I’ve had pneumonia twice in my life. The second time, as soon as I heard myself making that very deep, distinctive cough, I was able to self-diagnose my condition and get myself to a doctor straight-away. But even with such prompt response, by the time I returned home from the doctor’s office, I could barely walk the short distance from the car to the bedroom without running out of breath. I took the medications as prescribed and promptly went to sleep. This was early afternoon, and the next thing I knew it was 7 am the next morning. I felt much better, the drugs were doing their job as intended.

So imagine my chagrin, when upon picking up the morning newspaper, I discover that during the late evening while I lay dreaming, the local hometown had experienced one of it’s largest conflagrations. As a member of the volunteer fire department, I had missed the premier event of my generation because I was ‘sick’. To this day, I regret the ill-timing that caused me to miss helping what turned out to be a large neighborhood of folks who were dealing with spot roof and grass fires caused by the large flames spewing debris high into the air. It’s amazing, the lift a fire can generate, and the distance that embers will travel before falling onto flammable substances.

I was reminded yet again of my misfortune, when I saw the news about the Santa Clara apartment fire yesterday. Oh, to be back in the fire department!