Forces Driving More
would the pile of hay be sufficient to cushion my fall? While con-
templating whether jumping was a test in courage or an exercise in
stupidity, I smelled smoke and heard crackling noises. Turning around,
I instantly realized that our entire haystack was on fire.
Unbeknown to me, my younger brother had discovered matches.
To avoid detection, he hid against the backside of the haystack before
striking the first match. A quick study, he soon learned how fire plus
curiosity could set a massive haystack ablaze. As the hay started to
burn, the fall breeze fanned the flames upward. When the fire crested
the top of the haystack, the layers of dry straw became the perfect
accelerant. In a matter of seconds, my escape route was blocked. With
the flames licking at my heels, I jumped.
As soon as my mother realized what was happening, she called
the volunteer fire department a few miles away. Fighting disbelief,
we released the animals into the adjoining fields. By the time the fire
truck drove up the lane, flames and dark smoke were billowing skyward.
Immediately calling for backup, the firefighters directed their hoses at
the surrounding structures. Within the hour, fire trucks from three
more towns arrived, followed by a Forest Service tanker truck and two
bulldozers.
Because our farm was situated on higher ground near the foothills,
black smoke filling the sky could be seen from miles away. Onlookers
near and far showed up. A few asked how they could help. Most were
transfixed by the unfolding destruction. One farmer, who was also the
local mayor, drove up on his tractor pulling a water-filled tank-sprayer
equipped with a large fan to spray pesticides on apple trees. He wanted
to help, and this was all he could think of. As the number of spectators
grew, I overheard one shout to another that the farmer who lived here
should charge admission and would likely recover his loss.
When word of the fire reached my father, he sped home only to
find there was little he could do. Efforts to contain the blaze carried
on for hours. As I watched the flames devour the hay, waves of emo-
tion swept over me. Food to feed cattle, our milk cows, and horses
was gone. With winter around the corner, the season to grow hay had
passed. Watching months of hard work and sweat-filled days vanish in
smoke was hard for me to fathom, let alone accept.