Fires are sad

There was just a big fire in an apartment building across the street from me. Watching people being evacuated has me hung up on the question of what I would save if I were escaping a fire. I saw people climbing down the ladders with all sorts of things... laptop cases, pets, blankets... considering how bad the smoke was, it's a wonder people had time to grab anything at all. And not everyone was that lucky - one of the older tenants couldn't make it out on her own and tragically passed away before the rescue team could find her. People like to talk about grabbing photo albums, etc., but really? When there's smoke and you can hardly breathe, are you thinking about your baby photos or are you thinking about getting the hell out of there before you die? If I still had my cat, I think she'd be the only thing I would even have the impulse to save. Maybe I'd have time to throw my purse over my shoulder. A lot of people today didn't even have the time to grab a coat, and it's barely over 40 degrees. I think in a genuine life or death situation you have to sacrifice the romanticized concept of rapidly evaluating what material things are most important to you. You just run. That said, it was pretty tragic walking by after the fire had been put out and seeing the piles of wet, charred belongings lying in the street and on the sidewalk. There was a Hello Kitty backpack in the mess and seeing that made me tear up. I had to remind myself that whatever kid that belonged to had made it out alive, and that is really the most important thing.