Charleston Fire

At first I thought it was a typical thundercloud - a big black tumus high in the sky, threatening to bucket down on my neighborhood.

I was driving home after teaching a class in North Chuck, the first week of a course with a friendly bunch of folk who'd set me at ease with their curious attitudes. I was looking forward to relaxing at home as the evening drew to a close.

As I drove along Cosgrove Avenure and over the bridge back into West Ashley, I saw that the dark cloud was rising from the ground far ahead. It was a column of smoke that, for a moment, was thick enough to block the sun.

I got a sick feeling in my stomach. The smoke seemed to be coming from my neighborhood right enough, and I started to wory about my neighbors. In the distance I could hear multiple sirens.

My street was safe but from my porch, I could still see the smoke belching from Highway 17, a few blocks away. Eventually, the smoke stopped pouring out and I breathed a sigh of relief. Our local firefighters had done it again, stopping a fire before it spread too far.

This time was different. The fire was at the Sofa Super Store on Highway 17; nine firefighters lost their lives that day.

Artist John Pundt lives just around the corner from the store, and took pictures and video as the fire worsened. "I've taken pictures of fires before," he told me, meaning his back yard bonfires, "So I concentrated on faces instead." At the start, he says, it was just another blaze for the firefighters and onlookers. When part of the store collapsed and they realized that men had died inside, the mood changed completely. But the firefighters finished the job and put out the flames.

The genuine outpouring of grief and condolence since the fire has been overwhelming. Finally, it looks like out local firemen will get some much-needed new equipment and we've been reminded what an incredible, dangerous and thankless job those guys do.