On Saturday afternoon, I was absorbed in a big reorganization project on my computer so I didn’t pay much mind when sirens started to sound. Epworth United Methodist Church across the street runs a shelter and there have been a handful of times when ambulances have been called out to cart folks away for treatment.
But the sirens got louder and I heard yells through my closed windows. I looked up from my desk and saw this:
You can see that the fire truck has recently arrived and a firefighter is lugging the fire hose up the steps of the parsonage. It was fascinating to watch from my window as the men fearlessly fought the fire, extending the ladder across the street to hack their way through the roof to go at it from above. A crowd of dozens gathered to watch. Within minutes, the fire was safely under control and it was out completely within the hour. No one was hurt, I learned later.
Later that evening, the board-up company was there doing its job, hammering away through the night. I awoke to this sight:
It felt scary enough to me — I could feel the heat and smell the smoke from across the street — but the firefighters apparently did their job well. It didn’t even make the news, so far as I can tell.
Update: While no one was hurt, the pastor and his family are living in a Super 8 for the time being. All of their clothes and most of their belongings were destroyed by smoke and fire-hose water.
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