Today started out like most other Thursdays -- I took Kieran to his speech and occupational therapies at his school and then returned home. Since Seth had had a torn meniscus in his knee repaired on Tuesday afternoon, he was still home recovering from the surgery. So, I set Kieran and Seth up with some schoolwork to practice while I started washing dishes and putting things away.
One of the areas that individuals with Williams syndrome tend to struggle with is spatial relations -- being able to describe an object in relation to another object. My mom found some manipulatives that help with teaching and practicing those concepts and I usually pull those out on Thursday mornings to go over with Kieran. Seth helped him this morning (the photo below shows Kieran working with one of the sets earlier this month).
As I was washing, I occasionally heard some popping sounds outside and eventually heard enough that I decided to investigate. When I went outside and peered around the corner of our barn, I was met with the sight of our neighbor's pole barn engulfed in flames. Heart-stopping.
I ran back inside and tried to call 911 but realized our phone wasn't working for some reason and although I briefly talked to the 911 operator, the signal dropped. (I assumed the fire had somehow cut off our phone line but later realized that a GFCI had been tripped [when I was washing dishes?] and the section of outlets our phone was plugged into wasn't working.)
And since the phone line wasn't working, we didn't have WiFi, which meant my cell phone wasn't working, either (we don't get good cell reception in the Holler). So, I got in the car and drove up the hill where I could get the cell phone to work and called 911 and let them know what was going on. I don't know if it was my first phone call that got things started or if someone else called the fire in, but the dispatch said someone was already on their way. As I headed back down the hill, I got passed by a police car with its sirens on.
He missed the turn onto our lane, so I waited at the end and flagged him down after he turned around and came back our way. And then I waited some more for the fire engine I heard in the distance to arrive and pointed the way out to them.
Then, I drove down the lane, found that the son of the neighbor had been home and was in need of calling his parents, hopped back in the car, and drove him up the hill so he could make the phone call. While we were doing that, other fire trucks had arrived and were doing what needed to be done to put out the fire.
Seth was outside directing traffic and answering whatever questions needed to be answered. When the first truck pulled up with just two volunteer firefighters, they were happy to see another of their own -- Seth -- on the scene. And then just as unhappy to see that he had a bum leg and wouldn't be of much help to them.
Of course, the incredible irony is that Seth doesn't make it to many fire calls because we live so far out of town -- the trucks are usually gone by the time he gets the call and gets to the station. And this one time when a fire is right in his own backyard (or neighbor's yard), and he was on the scene, he was unable to help because of his knee.
One of the things I love about Seth, however, is his diplomatic response to such things. "Well, if it weren't for the knee, I would have been at work otherwise and wouldn't have been able to help anyway," was his response when I mentioned the irony to him.
Our little town sent several tanker trucks and two neighboring districts also sent their tanker trucks. One guy from a town south of us said that he had been harvesting soybeans when he saw the black plume of smoke and began heading in. He was already on his way when he got the call.
Our front yard looked like this for several hours.
They needed so many tanker trucks because we are so rural; we don't have city water on our property, which means there are no fire hydrants in the near vicinity to draw water from. That leaves drawing water from the creek (which is dry), our cistern (which is almost dry), or the fire hydrant that's about a mile away. The tankers took turns filling up at the fire hydrant and bringing the water down the lane. A modern-day bucket brigade.
They dumped the water in this dump tank and the firefighters pumped it out from there.
In the end, the barn wasn't able to be saved and our neighbor lost two pick-up trucks, a couple quads, a lawnmower, other lawn equipment, his tools, a winch (which Seth had just wired up for him on Saturday), and some irreplaceable heirlooms . . . among other things.
The boys stayed inside during all the excitement, although they looked out the windows at what was going on. Cael was so frightened by our initial frantic reactions -- and somehow got the thought the our house was going to burn down -- that he didn't want to go outside at all.
Note Seth's wrapped leg that he
walked on all day.
Kieran, on the other hand, would have been outside fellowshipping with the firefighters and checking things out the whole time if we had let him. When the fire was out and everyone was packing up, I took him outside to walk around. He met the firefighters and decided he wanted to wear his own fire gear, so he went inside and put it on.
When the guy in charge of the scene saw Kieran in his get-up, he said, "Hey, are you a fire chief? Every fire chief needs a radio!" and handed his radio to Kieran to wear for a bit.
He loved it.
They think the fire started when a wood stove in the barn that the son had lit earlier in the morning got too hot and caught surrounding items on fire. We are glad no one was hurt in the fire but sad for our neighbor's property loss.
And I was thankful for the reminder that we needed to have the contents of our barn (and house) documented, which I did this afternoon with my camera.
