I’ve always wanted to be a fire fighter. I guess probably never seriously, but the whole “helping people” thing is pretty engraned in me. So anywho - I was running down the canal this evening, and just 1 mile into my run, i look over and this pile of rolled up carpets is on fire. I am thinking to myself, some idiot is trying to burn his garbage uncontained. What a SILLY thing to do. So i am assessing this thing to see if it will contain itself, but my instinct tells me something isn’t right. The flames are now about 5 or so feet in the air, right next to the kitchen window of the council estate appartment, right next to the front door.

I hop the railing, and bang on the door. This lady, probably in her late 60s early 7os, in walker, on oxygen no less, answers from her lazy-boy chair. she lets me in and i tell her to call the fire dept. i ask her for a fire extinguisher,… she doenst have one. so i look out in the garden, and she has a hose. i throw it over the fence and turn it on. SO i here i am dousing this flame which is now more like 7 or 8 feet tall. (*with my mini hose) (interesting) Yes, so anyhow, a guy came by and called the fire dept as well, and they arrived 12 mns later. *(pretty good for inner city ghetto London!)

It was still smoldering so i wasnt comfortable leaving. The fire had stained the brick with smoke, and had cracked the kitchen window, not to mention melting the extractor fan in the kitchen. The house smelt rank. I left after the fire doods got there. I did my run loop and on my way back i stopped and talked to them again. They congratulated me and i felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and they awarded me with the London Gold Medal of Courage and then i had an interview with the mayor and then i got invited to Big Brothe….. —- sorry. yeah, so i went home. all in a day’s work i guess!

i have to thank God daily for the small things in life. How sweet.