First things first. What do we take? What do we carry out?
Insurance policies? Jewels? Laptops? Journals? Pictures? Books? Of course, our loved ones have
run out the door, minds screaming run, run, run,
exiting with the clothes on their back, slippers shoved on tender bare feet, bringing lives and losing the rest the fire.
So, yesterday as I was exiting my local grocery store I noticed two things:
- The helicopters swirling above the neighborhood (Wow, I though, traffic must be really, really bad)
- Huh, there’s a strong smell of smoke in the air.
As I went to turn towards home, I decided to make the right instead of the left because of the traffic and then I noticed the thick plume of smoke spiraling into the air. I gasped because well, that’s in the direction of my house and several of my friends’ houses. Instead of a house on fire it was the vacant/abandoned building on the corner of a very busy intersection. All roads leading to it were blocked…which meant my three minute ride from the grocery store back home was now twenty minutes.
I drove by it today – deliberately, because it is out of my way – and the air was still smokey while the partially demolished building stood seemingly defiant and blackened; charred remains sitting behind a chainlink fence. I wasn’t the only one gawking at the remains. Everyone who drove or walked by couldn’t help but stare at the remains.
I was reminded of house that exploded in my neighborhood when I was twelve. It woke me at 6 am with a loud boom and as I went to look out the window, the house exploded again, this time leveling the house. I’m surprised that it didn’t level the surrounding houses. I watched as the fire roared in rage consuming the house.
What would I grab in a fire? What could I possibly deem worthy enough to drag with me? I couldn’t imagine. And I still can’t imagine now. I don’t want to, the thought alone sends shivers down my spine.
No one was hurt in either fire – thank goodness. Small miracles, huh?