20 years ago an arsonist started a fire in Laguna Canyon that spread to the city burning down over 300 houses. My family was evacuated from our house barely getting out before the flamed crested the hill. I remember embers falling down around me like rain. I left with my CD walkman, a change of clothes and my school books. Everything else burnt down. We knew our house was gone when we saw the cover photo of the Los Angeles Times the next day. Our neighbor's house sad alone on the hill with destruction all around. (Funny thing, they didn't have fire insurance.) The city smelt like wet smoke for months after. A few days later school had restarted and as one of the few students who lost their houses they took me out of class for counseling. I got pissed, it was world geography class! With Mr. Slevcov! (How do you spell his name?) That was the last I really thought about it. Since then, however, campfires, the kitchen stove or just smoking a cigarette, I am always extra careful with fire. It's a powerful and dangerous force.
