The Devil's Only Friend

Have you ever "had" a fire? I am not sure why it is referred to as that, but that's what it's commonly called. I have. It was on the seventh floor of my New York City apartment in below-zero weather, and it took seven hours to put out.

When it was over, it had destroyed everything. The bathtub melted in half, the windows were blown and the flames were visible for hundreds of feet over the Hudson River. No one will ever know how it began.

My child and I were in the lobby. My cats died, my memories died, and that part of my life ended that night. It was Christmas Eve, 1972. I have since come to believe that firefighters are sacred beings.

After I heard the first set of sirens in Weho after midnight on Friday, I knew that lives were about to change—that loss would take place, and the smell of smoke and flames would be a never forgotten olfactory memory for people I didn't even know. It sent ice water through my veins.

By the third or fourth set of sirens, I knew exactly what was happening, and (with the exception of earthquake) I was very afraid. The sirens were in my neighborhood and they sounded every few minutes - like air raid sirens. I could smell the smell of burn from my bedroom window and wondered why it was so strong.  

It was a fire up the block - maybe the first or second at about 12:30 a.m. And it went on all night and the next day and the next, like the Blitz or Dresden except from the ground up.

Fire is a monster. What we breathe to live, it uses to destroy. It blows windows, melts metal, turns wood and humans and animals to ashes and it likes what it does.

Clearly, the "" - if he is the one - knew a great deal about all of that and liked what he was doing. It occurs to me he had practice previously.

Setting a fire in a closed space underneath something invites conflagration. The flame gulps the air and grows like a monster. The person with the torch enters the realm of the mass murderer and like the flames - has no conscience.

It is no surprise that in most cultures Hell is a place of fire - of perpetual agony and suffering. It would be no surprise to me that whoever is proved to be the guilty one believes this too. I doubt if he is a devil - but he is surely one of the minions and we can be grateful beyond words to our fire fighters and police for their tireless work. We can be even more thankful that no one was killed or maimed.  

As for me - I will send my good thoughts to those threatened or harmed by the effects of any of these fires. Fire is the weapon of the selfish. The smell of smoke lingers long, the water damage has its own message and the memories are reduced to thoughts. For these people and people like me - even the smell of a fireplace takes on a new aspect. I don't have one.

*The title comes from a lyric in "American Pie" by Don McLean.