I’m guessing I was about four or five years old the day I noticed the smoke. This time it wasn’t coming from the chimney of our sawdust-burning kitchen stove. Heavy, dense smoke. Not just a thin trail, but a substantial cloud that swelled upward into the clear blue sky. I had never seen smoke like this before. Thick plumes of smoke were billowing from our neighbour’s house, which was soon engulfed in flames. My brother and I watched as the glow lit up the sky, and we could hear the neighbour yelling, “Fire.”
Father ran frantically from the barn, where he had been doing evening chores, and headed for the neighbour’s house. When he got there, he was relieved to see that the neighbour, his wife and all three of their kids had managed to get out of the burning building. In those days, we had a volunteer fire department that was quickly called. The dark smoke was already visible to those living in the village a mile away. Soon we could hear the siren of the fire truck approaching, and in a matter of minutes many volunteers arrived on the scene.
The fire was spreading quickly. When I glanced again out of my bedroom window, I could see that the roof was on fire, and flames were coming out through multiple openings in the roof. Within a few minutes, the roof fell in. Billows of ash and cinders rose out of the house, which was now a full-blown inferno. The firefighters, along with Dad and the other men from the neighbourhood, had no choice but to give up all attempts at putting out the fire.
Later as the flames died down, I could see that Ivy and Mae’s house had been reduced to a pile of rubble, ashes and smouldering beams. As I watched from the bedroom window, chills ran through me. It was a scary sight! To watch it burn was devastating, not only for Ivy and his family, but for everyone there. Staring at the ruins with smoke still rising from the smouldering rubble, Ivy and his family realized they had lost everything. Once the fire was under control, many of the volunteers left the scene, including Dad.
As he entered the kitchen, we could smell the smoke from the fire in his clothes and hair. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying for hours. He could see the worried looks on our faces and quickly let us know his eyes were burning from all the smoke, but he’d be OK soon, likely in a day or so.
A chimney fire can light up the night, but it’s no laughing matter. About a month after the loss of the neighbour’s home, we faced our own close call with fire. Creosote from the many fires in our sawdust-burning cookstove had formed a thick layer in the chimney. The creosote caught fire inside the chimney, resulting in what’s known as a chimney fire. As Dad finished his evening chores and headed to the house, he noticed dense black smoke and flames coming from the chimney and raced to the house. A couple of men driving by also saw it and stopped to help Dad put out the fire.
I can vaguely remember we’d had a chimney fire or two in the past, but this one was different. As my brother and I sat on the kitchen couch, we could hear crackling noises and a loud roaring as if a train was passing by, but we knew we lived miles from the nearest railroad tracks. Mother did her best to stay calm, telling us to stay on the couch and out of the way as it was just a chimney fire. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the men to put the fire out, but it was frightening nonetheless, even though it did minor damage. Mother and Dad were fortunate that the fire was contained within the chimney and that it didn’t spread to the roof or attic.One fellow who had stopped to give Dad a hand stayed to make sure all was OK, so Dad invited him in for coffee, and he accepted. He sat down beside me on the couch, while Mother put the kettle on, and made a quick lunch for them in the pantry. He didn’t look overly old, but older than Dad. Looking up at him, I asked, “Do you have any kids?”
He smiled and said, “Yes, I have four girls and five boys.” As Mother invited him to sit at the table, all I could think of was, wow, that’s a lot of children!
The following day as I played house with my dolls, I stood at the window staring out at the orchard. When Mother passed by, she asked me what I was doing? Holding my favourite doll, I turned around and replied. “I wish I could get married to the man who was here last night.”
Puzzled, Mother asked, “Why that man? ”
My answer was quite simple, “Cause he knows how to get kids.”
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