Firemen and Hallowed Ground

I feel quiet in the noise that surrounds me. I feel lost within myself; yet my eyes see a vision before me that I will never forget. Murmurs surround me; voices call in the distance. I am alone while surrounded by others. I am gathering a memory to hold close to me… a memory that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

My mind locks out the words of others and yet I respond to all who have need of an answer from me. I look into the eyes of strangers who surround me; they not knowing who I am. I stand among them in silence and yet cries of anguish can be heard in the distance. Could that be me I hear…. or someone far away?

I look up and in the distance a fireman appears out of the billowing black clouds of smoke, holding in his arms a limp little Beagle puppy. The sounds of pain erupt from my body. I find myself running toward him as he lays our little family pet gently on the ground before me.

 I crouch down and hear myself calling Chance’s name and from what seems to be nowhere, my two sons appear beside me each carrying their own pain. They had run for blocks across the barricades to get to me; they had run for blocks to get to the home they grew up in; they had run for blocks to catch the last glimpses of our home as the blasts of black smoke and fire billowed into the sky above.

And the gentle movement of my hand while the voices of my sons called out brought with it cries of joy as our puppy opened his eyes and tried to lift his head in response to our voices… and survives!

I weep as I feel the helplessness of the situation consume me. Through my tears I see firemen descending into the darkness of the billowing smoke as others walk out toward me and in my heart, I say to them….

“You are on hallowed ground. Ground where children laughed and played and felt joy. You are on ground where memories were made; where little footsteps grew into footprints as the years passed by; where days passed into years and a family lived and loved. This is my home and I felt joy and pain here. I will miss the warmth of it around me and the place my family grew up to call “home”….”

But as I look into your blackened faces I see gentle eyes looking back at me and my heart goes out to you. You are risking your lives to save a piece of memory for me to hold on to. You are risking your lives as fire consumes the dwelling you surround, attaching hoses on to hoses, using all the strength your bodies can endure as the torrent of water lifts high and falls upon what is left of my home. You walk in darkness, masks covering your faces as you try to breathe…. and

at days end, my husband and I and our family hold strong, knowing that we created the foundation of our home in our hearts….

 And I thanked God for you!

And even after days have passed you do not put this behind you. When I speak to you and tell you of the pain I feel and thank you from the bottom of my heart, I look at each and every one of you who wore the uniform and protective gear as firemen do and… I see tears in your eyes. It is at that moment when I realize that our hearts hold a mutual understanding that need no words.

And today, I want you all to know that I honor you! I give thanks to our country for the brave men and women we call Firemen who are watching over our lives….

                                                       Millie P. Lorenz

With our deepest gratitude and respect to Pumper One and its crew from the Grande Prairie Fire Department who fought to try to save our home on August 11, 2003. This is my story and I dedicate it to all of them. And I hold HOPE that the next time you hear the familiar sounds of a siren in the distance… you will say a prayer for them too!

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