Yesterday I received this email from April Sanborn the woman I met while we snapped pictures of the excitement. She filled in more details of the story. And kindly gave me permission to share it.
The email from April Sandborn
"Hi. We met during the fire at an apartment building last Sunday. We also met the nice woman "basket case" on the street corner and had a good conversation.
I later met the owner of the building. He had rented the apartment to a lady for Storytelling weekend. Saturday night she had gotten chilly and turned on the furnace. Apparently, something went wrong and a fire started in the furnace closet. Since this is an historic building, he said the firefighters took great care to do as little damage as possible- even putting tarps down to limit water damage to the building. I thought that was neat. And the woman had actually rescued the owner's cat. I think that was nice.
It was nice meeting you.April Sanborn"
More from Ellouise:
Maybe you are wondering why I keep on with this small story. Its personal. Aren't all stories? I was saved from a fire when I was about eighteen months old by John Sanders, a man who was mowing the grass for my grandmother. When the fire engines roared up and the firemen pulled out the hoses he ran over, "There is a baby in the back apartment." And he ran in and brought me out of a smoke filled room. Do I really remember standing in my crib crying? Or, is it because I remember being told the story often. I do remember John Sanders with his wide smile, milk chocolate colored skin and blue eyes. He continued to work for my grandparents until I was a teen-ager.
Ofcourse I remember him. John Sanders is the man who saved my life.