It's Me, Sara Louise

Something strange happened last week, a house behind mine blew up. IT BLEW UP, like BOOM.

It was late Tuesday morning and I was busying myself with work and getting ready for Gregory’s arrival the next day. I walked into the laundry room and turned on the washing machine, and as I stood there measuring out the detergent, a loud bang rumbled through the house shaking me and the room. I steadied myself to catch my breath. I had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, I had felt it through me.

A couple of seconds later and I was running down the stairs, I was sure a large truck had caused the bang by ramming into the front of the house. But thankfully no, the house was intact, and my mother and Fifty were OK. Pulling on my shoes, I ran outside and looked around. From behind house a few doors down, I could see a large cloud of black smoke began to billow into the sky.

It wasn’t a normal house fire, it had been an explosion.

The next few minutes were manic; a few of my neighbors came out onto the street and the police arrived, and then miraculously, the survivor of the explosion made his way onto our street. He was walking and lucid but a reddish-black color and his clothes had been blown off of him and were hanging in shreds. He said that all he had done was turn his television on. GAS!

The police said that those of us on my side of the street needed to clear out. Another woman and I made our way down the street banging on doors urging people to leave their homes, no answer, no answer, no answer. And as I ran back into my house to grab Fifty, I was terrified and holding my breath.

Soon police were positioned in our neighborhood blocking off entrances and sirens were heard all over. The smoke cloud changed from black to white, and we were allowed to return home.

It had only been an hour. How had it only been an hour? In only one hour, a house directly behind mine and only three doors down had exploded so ferociously, that it blew out the windows of one house next door, and completely destroyed the other, the police had come, the ambulance had come, Air Life had flown in, the gas company had come (THANKFULLY), and then we were back inside to carry on our day.

And we’re all OK; the poor man is doing well, recovering in the hospital with burns covering 80% of his body, Fifty is fine, Gregory arrived, and other than randomly panicking because I constantly think I smell gas, I’m alright.

So here it is, you never know what a day will bring so use them wisely. Use them wisely.