The Moment It All Changed

Family Fire Jim waved to a neighbor shoveling his driveway as he hit the button to open the garage door. Focusing on the trip home in the snow had allowed him time to accept his obligation to visit his parents the next day. The blowing snow had prevented Jim from noticing smoke coming from the New Yorker’s engine compartment. Once in the garage, however, Jim noticed what he thought was steam coming from under the hood. How the engine could overheat in this weather was a wonder to Jim as he came to a stop in the garage. Fourteen-year old Eddie usually hung the small snow blower on two nails at the end of the garage so it was about three feet up on the wall. Because the snow was still falling Eddie had just leaned the machine against the wall. Jim inadvertently tapped the snow blower with his bumper as he pulled to a stop and opened his door. Jim waved to Anna, standing in the doorway to the house, as he opened his car door. “Hi, hon,” Anna said through the door from the kitchen. “Jim, look. I think there’s still something wrong with the car,” Anna said as she noticed smoke coming through the car grill. “Hi, honey,” Jim said, ducking back into the car for his suit coat and briefcase. “Jim, the car’s on fire!” Anna shouted, noticing yellow flames suddenly lapping through the grill. At that instant the flames ignited the dripping gasoline from the punctured plastic fuel tank on the snow blower. The car’s bumper had crushed the edge of a bracket into the wall rupturing the gas tank. “Anna!” Jim shouted, as he took a step toward the front of the car. The explosion blasted Jim in the face, causing him to throw his suit coat and briefcase in the air and knocking him back into the two trashcans. With his clothes and hair on fire, Jim, blinded by the flames, put one arm up over his face and grabbed the top of a plastic garbage can. Struggling to stand up, he fell back to the floor in pain. “Anna, get back in the house,” Jim shouted, writhing on the floor, beating the flames with his hands. Reaching for his face, he realized his beard and eyebrows had been set on fire by his flaming shirt and tie. The explosion had covered Anna with flames, blowing her back into the house. In shock and on fire, she fell down the basement stairs, breaking her left arm and her right wrist. Her dress and hair were on fire as she reached the bottom of the stairs, screaming her son’s name. Eddie untangled himself from the bed, where he had been reading, and ran toward his mother.