I was making myself some breakfast this morning when I heard a commotion outside. I looked out the kitchen window. The first thing I noticed was a group of people from the neighbourhood huddled together in a group on the sidewalk. Next, huge clouds of dark smoke. I followed them to their source: my neighbour's house. It made me gasp. Bright red flames leapt high into the sky. A couple minutes later a firetruck arrived, and then another. The firemen worked hard and bravely, but the wind was strong, whipping the flames into a frenzy. But for all that, it was over in a short period of time. Perhaps half an hour, or maybe 45 minutes. The firemen won, kind of. One third of my neighbour's house is now a skeleton of burnt wood and piles of ashes.
I'm glad this happened on a weekday, while the kids were at school. I'm glad that no one was hurt. Did they lose and irreplaceable treasures? Old photo albums, family videos, mementos? I hope not.
What would I do if it had been my house on fire? Would I panic, run around like a chicken with its head cut off? Would I be calm, purposeful, gathering what I could, and leaving the rest to burn? Would I be detached, just stand on the sidewalk and watch?
I hope I never have to find out.
1 comment:
I've never taken the time to wonder what it would be like personally to have one's house on fire. I imagine the adrenaline would incite you to act in ways you might otherwise not.
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