Saw satellite photos of the California fires. Reminds me of the fires in Wyoming the past few years. Drought, wind, and too much fire to fight. Meanwhile, here in New Hampshire we've had over two inches of rain so far this month. Out the office window I see the river is flooding over the banks again, just like it did during our big Spring thaw.

I sort of fought a fire once (not counting a couple of chimney fires at Mom's) back when I was a teenager in Nebraska. I worked part time as a radio announcer and part time as the news director. It was a small town station and most folks had a couple of jobs and titles. I was probably still the janitor as well.

Early one morning I woke to the fire siren. A fire was out of control at a downtown bar, the bar wedged between an auto-parts store and a cafe. All brick buildings. It was three in the morning and by the time I got there to "cover the story" the bar was pretty much gone and the auto-parts store was just starting to flare up.

I don't recall how I got there or why I would even try, but I found myself standing on top of the cafe looking into the smoldering wreckage of the bar below. Most likely I was buoyed by being a member of the press, working up enough confidence to simply walk into the alley and try climbing the ladder.

The roof was abandoned. The firemen must have determined that the bar fire was out and left to focus on the parts store which was burning full blast. You could hear the muffled whumps of oil cans detonating in the intense heat.

Up on the roof I had quite a view and could feel the heat pouring off of the auto-parts building. Down below there were small fires dancing in the remains of the bar. All very cool for a teenager. Stupid to be up there, but cool.

About that time an old, sealed up door-frame between the two buildings burst open from the heat. Flames poured into the bar wreckage and towards the sky, lapping at the new found oxygen and unburned structure. I didn't know what to do. It looked like the fire might spread anew and I was the only one who knew, no one on the street could see into the bar.

I thought maybe I should run down and alert someone. But there, a few feet way, like a gift from god, was a hose the firemen left behind. I had no idea if it would work or how to work it, so I bent over and pulled the lever a bit. Water came out and the fat old hose jerked around.

I was more afraid of the fire hose than the fire itself. It was heavy, wet, cold, had a large steel and rubber head, and was very official looking. I was pretty sure I'd be dead meat if anyone caught me using it. Still, I was busy concocting a story about how the fire was raging out of control and only I could save the day. No, I should tell someone. C'mon, it's all burnt down anyway. No. Yes. No. Yes...

Curiosity won.

I started hesitantly at first, wrestling that snake of a hose without much luck or effect. Eventually I got the hang of it and even managed to spray water in the general direction of the fire. You could change it from a narrow flow to a wide spray. It was a mighty powerful feeling, like opening a hole in the side of a dam.

I'd like to say that I was recognized for saving the day, helped to bring the perilous side-fire under control, all without any regard for my own safety. What really happened was the fire started dying down and I started getting nervous about being discovered. I'd been in enough trouble to know that not being caught was way better than being caught with a fabricated story.

I put the hose down, back the way it was and made my escape.

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