Fire, Fire!


 Back in July my dad, as per his usual habit – one that he’d taken up about  10 years ago but had kept hidden from almost everyone except those of us closest to him and even then he tried to hide it – was out in his garage smoking. Now, he has/had an old recliner he kept out there that he sat in that was also right in front of the old chest deep freezer that he and mom have/had had for years. After Mom died last year, my uncle and I cleaned it out so Dad didn’t really use it much; he had been keeping some beef patties in it that he used to pat out himself, but, wonder of wonders, once he found out he could buy them already done he didn’t even do that any more; the box would fit in the freezer over the refrigerator; he would keep bread out there but he doesn’t really eat that much of that; that was mom’s thing, so he really doesn’t use it.

Anyway, as you can probably figure out by now, that day he apparently dropped his cigarette onto the chair without realizing it and went back in the house. Now the story gets a little blurry at this point but before I had left back in the spring after his fall I had gotten him set up with home health and homemaking services that come in 3 times a week on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and clean his house and do his laundry among other things, so thankfully once again this happened on a day when somebody was coming. The people in charge of them  later told me they found his chair smoldering when they got there but on the day it happened I got a call from the son of an old good friend of Dad’s that he first of all grew up with his wife (guess I won’t go there) then later rode to work with her husband when they all lived in Detroit then later wound up living on the same street. He – the son – not the friend, that’s another death, oh well, had been supposed to have moved to Florida bu thankfully had not and was down the street visiting his mother when as we was going by dad’s house as he was leaving said he saw smoke rolling out from underneath his garage door which also thankfully was not shut all the way. He went to the front door, which dad never uses nor hardly does anybody else so he hardly hears anybody at it but managed to get him to it and make him understand and get him out of the house and call the fire department,  though I’m not really sure in which order because somewere in there, at least according to the fire department later, not from him then, they got the recliner out of the garage, which they couldn’t have done from outside because his car was in the garage with the remote. So by the time the fire department got there there actually was no fire any longer so they didn’t have to even spray any water which is good because his garage is sheetrocked and it could have ruined it.

Anyway I’m just very thankful that Dad was protected once again but even though they weren’t really needed I am still also appreciative of the fire department for coming and so quickly because it could have been different.

And, no, of course this isn’t HIS fire department – this is my tribute to those of 9-11 as well.

About donnainthesouth

I'm a transplant, born up north but raised in the middle, now I'm down here where you don't see too many snowflakes; I'll probably post just about as often (here at least)
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