The chaos was un-imaginable if you were there, running in between the people looking upwards, at the inferno that was created. This was not 9/11, this was an apartment fire in down town Edmonton today, but if you were there, it would have felt kind of the same. The only Terrorists here though, were the flames and the cold. Fifteen men were inside, fighting the beast from its stomach, with guns of liquid, with hearts of gold surrounded by fear, and every time they fired their weapons, the water would hit the flame, land on the wall, and freeze. Smoke billowed from all directions, their sun was red and their sky was black. There is no air here, except that which was on their backs, and even that was starting to run out. Ten men left to get more air, and five remained so the daemon they were fighting would not have a chance to rest.
It was then it happened.
The ceiling above them fell from left to right, like a wave crossing the sea, and those five men who remained to fight were pinned to the ground. This in itself must sound horrifying and dangerous, but the scary part has yet to be mentioned. The air they breath that rest upon their backs, was not only running out, but because they were pinned, not able to move their hands, when the air did run out, they would not have been able to remove the air tight masks they wore on their faces like knights wore their masks of steal. They were going to suffocate to death, or that was what the daemon had wanted.
A man name Rod, the leader of the five that stayed behind, was able to maneuver himself through a hole, fifteen feet to safety.
(While telling this story, he started to cry, because his first instinct was to protect himself and not the men he fought with, even though as soon as he knew he wasn't badly injured, all his thoughts were of only them)
When he got up a pain shot through his shoulder like lighting through a tree, and only cringed, for he knew if he didn�t go get help, the pain of losing his four rookies would be much greater. He could hear one of them screaming for help. He ran towards where he had entered the beast, and commanded them to put out the fire on the inside of that room, because the fire would get to his brothers sooner then their air would run out.
(I noticed while he was telling this story that his eyes were on the verge of blood red, and he coughed a lot, their must have been a lot of smoke)
The fire was eventually put out in that area, and the saws and axes and the inflatable bags were put to work, trying to free these men. Rod ran from one man to another looking for his friend Hoss, a man he knew very well and was trapped under the sky that had fallen on them. �Have you seen Hoss?� �No� �Have you seen Hoss?� �No� �Have you seen Hoss?� He asked a man bent over looking through a hole. �Have you seen Rod?� He replied. It was then when the man looking in the whole turned around, removed his red metal hat and looked into the eyes of a friend once again. Hoss was looking for Rod, and Rod was looking for Hoss, it was ironic that they had found each other.
Everyone got out alive, only banged and bruised and hoarse. It was my uncle who had told me this story tonight, the story of his day at work as a fireman. It was also tonight that I got a glimpse of how the survivors of such hopeless situations feel, and their families as well. It just isn�t personal unless it happens to someone you care about.
He pulled me away tonight, just me and him, and told me that he prayed a lot during the whole ordeal. His father had passed away only two or three months ago, and he was praying the �Our Fathers� prayer. I guess both of my uncles Fathers protected him today, and protected the men that he calls his brothers. It�s only personal if it happens to family.
8:12 p.m. - 2003-03-11
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