For no reason, I glanced out of the window. And froze. A wall of fire, long hungry flames, carpeted my neighbor's woods. I could see them through the chain link fence.
"OhmygoshFIRE!" I yelled. I ran for the phone. Thank goodness I had actually replaced it in the cradle this time.
|It's really weird to see this out of your kitchen window|
As I dialed 911, my daughter began to freak out. I tried to calm her and talk to the man on the other end at the same time. He already knew my address, so with one push of a button (I suppose) he called the local fire fighters.
By the time I finished with the call, the flames were already in our back yard. They found our wood pile, handily stacked by the fence, as well as all of my kid's plastic outside toys. Goodbye, Wendy House, picnic table, rocking horse, and sand pit! It was a windy day, and I couldn't believe how quickly the fire spread through our woods, engulfing small trees and sending out billows of smoke.
I grabbed my kid's hand, pulled two coats from the closet, and dashed out of the house. The neighbor on the other side of us was there already, and she took my daughter as I went to deal with police, fire fighters, and ambulances.
Once those guys got into action, the fire knew it was beaten. Twenty minutes later the woods were a charred, dripping mess, but the fire was out.
There were several things I think about after all this:
A man, a stranger, pulled into our driveway before the firefighters got there. He grabbed my garden hose and started dousing our woods. I don't even know his name, and I don't think I ever got to thank him.
My neighbor took my kid into her house without a thought; I didn't even have to ask.
911 is amazing.
|Hurray for these guys!|
So are first responders. Those trucks were coming up our street within two minutes, and our town is a far flung, woodsy community. It must be a bear to patrol.
My kid is safe, and our house is fine. But, the most important part of that - MY KID IS SAFE.