If you know my story at all, you know that for a while my dad was single with 4 kids. He was amazing! And like some ungodly high percentage of kids in the world today; we were “latch key kids.” Also being southern, we were raised DIY’ers!!! That being said, my dad had told my older brothers to start digging a hole in the yard to the side of our house. (In all honesty I think we were either having septic tank cleaned out or something like that.)
I was around 7, that makes Jenny 6ish (depending on the time of year) Randy 10 and Andy 12. (Hopefully I did my math right.) As they dug, the hole got huge! Like VW Beatle huge! To a 7 year old, that is massive. But as you can probably imagine it was also getting late. The sun was setting and darkness was over taking our task! But like most southern boys on the cusp of manhood, we were resourceful. (Please insert pyromaniac here). So Andy and Randy built a fire to continue working. Jenny was inside, I have no idea doing what, and I was being hypnotized by the dancing flames.
As we all know, no southern flame is complete without a little gasoline. Even a 7 year knows that. My dad had a 10 gallon metal gas can that, at the time, came up to my chest. I used all my strength to carry the gas can from the storage shed. I had to literally kick it with my left leg to get it to move at all, in the process spilling gas down the side of the can and on my leg. But I wasn’t that observant back then so I trudged forward with my task to assist my brothers with the chore at hand.
As the two pre-teens continued to shovel away at the dusty dirt, I managed to fill the small metal cap of the gas can with the fuel. I then yelled a warning and tossed the gas on the fire………This where everything switches to slow motion in my mind. Like in the Matrix, I can remember finite details that may have otherwise been lost, but I remember the blue shirt I was wearing. The hum of the air conditioning unit that was over to my left, the amount of dew that was already in the ground. Everything is still very vivid in my mind.
As I stood there, eyes squinted to the heat, brothers dunked at the influx of flames, something magical happen. The fire came alive. It was like a serpent and I was its charmer, only I wasn’t that good. Because as I stood there, out of the wall of fire a snake of flames slithered its way out in mid-air and attached itself to my left shin. Now, he only kissed me for a second and then withdrew, but because I had carried the gas can is such a hazardous way, my leg was drenched in gasoline.
I TOOK OFF!!!
In circles.
Remember, every detail and memory is still fresh in my mind! So we go from the slow motion of the dancing asp to a bat out of hell, almost literally!!! I remember as I lapped my stunned, stammering brothers, screaming. Not making sense, but I remember screaming. I also remember McGruff the Crime Dog telling us to Stop. Drop. And Roll. Let me tell you something, when you are 7 and on fire, you will not listen to McGruff. I COULD NOT STOP! I knew I should, but all rational thought was burned up!! So I ran.
But I have 2 “heroes!” Andy and Randy! Yep! After they figured out exactly what was happening, they figured out a solution.
KNOCK HIM DOWN AND STOMP HIS LEG OUT!
And that is just what they did! So if being on fire wasn’t enough, I now had two guys 3 and 5 years older than me stomping on my seared, 7 year old leg.
By this time my dad had come home and Jenny had somehow informed him that I was on fire and “the boys” were putting me out. My dad came rushing to us finding “the boys” using the hose pipe to cool my leg off. Can I just say, if you ever see someone on fire, please for me, do not pour cold water on them. They will have exposed nerves and that will hurt almost as much as the fire!
My dad scooped me up, carried me inside and, turn a fan on me, same as the water guys. Not a good idea!! But he took off my shoe, surprisingly unharmed by the fire and tried to remove my jeans, but we were now joined as one. It was trip to the hospital. I was given the magical drug morphine. It makes things a little foggy but the details aren’t important. As they cut off my jeans and sock, both were not harmed by the fire, but we found underneath my leg was much different. It looked like a pillar candle that had been burning for several hours. Like wax that runs down the side of the candle and then cools, my skin mirrored that image.
They removed the burned skin, patched me up, and showed my dad how to doctor me and the rest is history. I have a scar, I always will, but I also have a great story that I find hilarious! You know, there is a saying, “what does not kill us makes us stronger.” That is so true. And in those strength building periods we are building character that develops who we are, how we handle things and how we treat people.
Now at the ripe old age of 7, I clearly did not see things as I do now. But as I look back I see that this fire incident marked me. And over the years I have learned many life lessons from this. Like you have to live with the scars of stupid decisions your whole life. But you are wiser for it!
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