Warning: graphic intensive!
Well, Kikue wen come da closest to wat wen happen on Tuesday morning. Okay, I’ll try not to talk pidgin, but when I get excited, kinda hard not to. It just happens.
Here’s a big hint as to what happened:
Yeah. Those are firemen. INSIDE my hale. Three of them. Very nice firemen, but firemen nonetheless.
Three of them. Yes indeedy. In front of our woodstove.
Here’s the reason why they were there:
Julie and her ʻohana were in Hawaiʻi. And as she does for me, I was taking care of her mail, their dog, and their cats. I’d go to their house twice a day, and by the time I’d get back home again it’d be about an hour.
On Tuesday, Nolemana had left early, and when I got home from Julie dems I notice a whole heck of a lot of smoke coming out of our chimney. We hadn’t had a fire in the woodstove for two days, and let me tell you, I got one bambucha adrenaline surge. I floored my van up our steep driveway, leaving Kukui, who’d gone with me, in the kawila. I raced into the house and checked the woodstove. Nothing. It was cool, no fire anywhere. But I immediately called 911, thinking there was a chimney fire. The dispatcher asked if there was smoke in the hale. Nope. Were there flames? Nope. She said that she’d already sent out the message and the fire department was on its way.
In the meantime, I got ʻUkulele (it took awhile because she didn’t want to come) into Kukui’s dog kennel. Oh the injustice for a pōpoki to have to be put into a dog kennel! Then I took my manu, Uakea, into the kitchen with ʻUkulele in case I had to get them out in a hurry. I grabbed some important papers and put them in my car.
I have years and years of journals, and I knew there was no way that I could save them all. I also knew that I couldn’t save all the photos. But the choice was, my animals or the journals and photos. And there was no choice; it had to be the living creatures entrusted to my care.
Just then, I heard the siren of the fire truck. They’d gotten here in less than ten minutes, though it seemed like a lot longer. And once they were here, I felt oh, so much better. I met them out in the driveway and told them what was going on.
Three of them went up on the roof. Another went into the attic. Another went downstairs. And these three guys began to pull the woodstove out so that they could see into the chimney. The fireman in charge began asking me a lot of questions about things, like when had we had the chimney cleaned (just last year; we’re really good about that) and when our furnace had last been serviced (ditto).
We have three fireplaces in this hale; they’re near each other. Smoke was still pouring out the chimney and the three firemen were still trying to get the woodstove out. Notice that they put down a rubber mat to protect my carpet from their boots! Can you believe it?
By this time, a smaller firetruck had arrived and so had Nolemana.
There’s the big engine in our driveway. It had been a real challenge for them to get up our steep driveway.
Now, I gotta tell you. All the firemen, I guess by now there were around nine of them, were so calm, so professional, and so reassuring, that it helped me to stay calm too. They were incredible, checking everything out.
Smoke was still pouring out the chimney and the firemen were still trying to locate the cause of the smoke.
I am really good in an emergency. Of course pau da emergency, ho da shaking begins! But there I was, taking photos of everything. No can believe! Of course, it helped that there were no flames or smoke anywhere!
Just outside da front door. Kikue, notice all the moss everywhere? It’s just past winter in Oregon, ‘as why. I know how you love to see it.
The guys came down from the roof and said we have four flues but three fireplaces. They wondered if the furnace could be for the other one, and I said it could. And that the furnace had smelled really hot when I’d raced down there.
So we turned off the furnace, and just lidat, da smoke wen stop. Needless to say, we didn’t turn it back on. The head fireman told the three guys they could put the woodstove back. I’m sure they were extremely relieved. They told us to leave the furnace off and call our furnace guy right away, which we assured them we would do.
The firefighters were just finishing up. The one in charge walked around with a carbon monoxide detector; it was buzzing a little, but we were still within normal range. He wanted to make sure I was all right, so he had one of the guys put this little da kine on my finger to test my CO2 level. Well within normal ranges, but higher than Nolemana’s. Did I say we’re going to have a CO2 alarm da kine installed? You betcha. Wikiwiki! Then they checked my pulse. “It’s high,” he said, “but that’s totally normal under the circumstances.”
The woodstove was back in the fireplace. Everything was all cleaned up, and was time for them to leave. I felt so incredibly grateful to these brave men who came out, who risk their lives every single day to save people like us. When they were on their way to our hale, they really didn’t know what they were going to find; they had an idea it could be a chimney fire, but couldn’t be totally sure till they got here. It could have been oh, so much worse. I had wai maka as I thanked them for getting out here so fast, for being so calm and reassuring, and for doing everything they could to keep us safe.
I asked the firemen if they knew Mike Snodgrass, the co-owner of Hawaiian Beanz Coffee Shop in Damascus. He’s a Lieutenant with the fire department in Gresham; they’d heard of him and knew the coffee shop, so that was a fun connection.
Then I went back outside and started snapping photos again.
Close up, a fire engine is really, really big!
On the front of this engine it says, “Never Forget 9-11-01”. I never do.
Some of them were now out at the trucks; they had determined that the smaller one wasn’t needed, so the guys who came in that truck were going to take off. Everyone, most of all me, was so relieved that there hadn’t been a real fire. There were a lot of smiles outside. Including mines.
However, Nolemana had come home in a hurry (he’d called in the middle of everything and I told him to get home wikiwiki), so he’d parked behind the smaller truck. See his kawila back there?
So the firemen directed his kawila around the smaller fire truck.
It was a tight fit, but he made it.
All pau, you think? Nope! Photos pau? Nope. Hakum, you ask? Well, because… our driveway is one-tenth of a mile long. With an 18% grade. Around a very steep curve. Several weeks ago I had to have my kawila towed to our repair shop because the alternator had died. The tow truck driver came up just fine. But he had a flatbed truck and couldn’t turn around up here. So he had to back alla way down, then back alla way up, then tow my kawila away.
So for the firemen, the next part of the advencha was just beginning. Now they had to get that bambucha fire engine back down the driveway!
The small one had backed down with no trouble at all. But the big one would be more of a challenge. One fireman walked behind it, and two walked down in front to help guide the driver back down. The curve would be the trickiest part.
I’m so da kine that I had tears running down my cheeks as they left. My gratitude was so great…I just couldn’t help it.
The fire engine began to disappear down the curve. One fireman was now on one side and one on the other to watch where the tires were going.
Down, down, down…
It doesn’t look quite so big now, does it?
This was the trickiest part of the whole way down…the wicked curve on an 18% grade. On a driveway barely wide enough for a truck of that size. Backwards.
Little by little, they were making it! This was my last photo of the truck from the driveway as it disappeared downhill.
Below me, I saw the tree branches that had toppled during our last windstorm that came and went within only fifteen minutes. The limbs took out several rhododendrons and part of our fence.
I tried to see if the fire engine had made it past the curve. Not yet.
But I did see a helicopter flying overhead.
I moved out to the deck in front of our house to get a better view. And there was the fire engine! It was making it!
I could see it through the just beginning to bloom sakura trees.
The firemen who were walking watched carefully to make sure the fire truck stayed on the asphalt and didn’t go into the mud.
Slowly, slowly, the driver inched the truck down and backwards.
The sheep, llama, and guardian doggie were totally unconcerned.
Not so the firemen. It really was a tricky deal getting down our driveway.
And uh-oh. There’s yet another curve to maneuver around. At least it’s flat here. But if they miss the curve, they will go into a big ditch. A couple of the firemen had suggested we install a four-lane road coming up to the house. I think even a two-lane one would have helped.
Ricky and Poem didn’t care about the excitement either.
Everyone’s taking a nap but Rayado, who just kept munching away.
Guiding the fire truck around the curve.
Again, it made it. Now it’s on the gravel road at the bottom of the pasture. But it’s not over yet. Wat? U gotta be keeding me, yeah? Nope. Cuz she, now dey gotta get turned around so dey can go out front-wise. Still get a turnaround to go!
See da rubbish cans? Da truck gotta back up ova dea, den turn around. Without going into da small kine ditch on da side of da road.
Boring Fire and Rescue. Life is anything but boring around hea!
With guidance from da outsai guy, da drivah slowly backs up litto by litto.
“C’mon, litto bit moa, keep on coming…” Oops. Da fireman no stay talking pidgin.
No bang da fence. No go into da ditch. Stop!
All pau. The fire engine is ready to go straight down our road. The firemen climb back into the fire truck.
The fireman begins to hemo his equipment. Until they actually got here, I didn’t know how much weight these guys carry on their bodies when they’re all prepared to fight a fire.
This fireman is the last one in.
He decides to take off his heavy jacket first.
He climbs in and closes the door.
And off they go.
Down our road in front of the sakura tree.
They turn onto the paved road…
…and are off down the road, back to the fire station…
…while I just stood there and wept. The emergency was pau, and I was coming out of emergency mode and back into the feelings. Even now I get wai maka writing about these brave men.
Nolemana called our furnace guy, who came out within the hour. He said that the reason for all the smoke was because we’d run out of oil and the furnace was working too hard, and trying to burn what little fuel it had. We got more oil the next day.
On Wednesday, I took photos of our driveway to show what an awesome job the firemen did getting down our driveway.
This is the steep curve. Considering how little room they had, I was really impressed.
Small kine off the road here, but who cares!
Just below the curve. Look how well they stayed on the asphalt!
The next day, I took photos of what the driveway looks like going up.
Heading up towards the curve:
And there it is. You can see how expertly the driver and his walking guides got down the tricky driveway.
Mahalo ke Akua that I came home when I did and noticed the smoke. It could have been much, much, worse. Mahalo to the brave firemen who rushed out here, not knowing if they would find a full-blown fire in progress. Mahalo for their professionalism, calmness, and concern for me and our home. It was a major scary time for me.
This weekend I will be baking a huge batch of cookies to take down to these men. They were here so many times when Nolemana’s papa-san had medical emergencies, and they were at my neighbor’s just last week when she had a chimney fire. Many of them are volunteers. Compared to what they do, a big batch of cookies seems kinda manini kine, but they will be a token of incredible gratitude to all of them.
Oh my goodness – that’s what I said out loud (at work, no less) when I saw what had made you all-kine excited. And THANK goodness everything was okay, that brave men and women are there to protect you (and me, different city) and that your furnace is okay too.
(I was gonna guess dat Keali`i Reichel had showed up at your door, but I couldn’t figgah out if was one good surprise or one bad one.)
I have wondered in idle moments (I am a worrier by nature) what I would grab in case of a fire. Funnily enough, my `ukulele (I call her my baby, but dis is one instrument, not one popoki) would also be one of the first things. But, like you, I get uku-pila pitchas (some in paper form, some stored on CDs) that I would not be able to grab.
Maybe this is a wake-up call to both of us to get copies of some of those valuable things (like pitchas and copies of journals, mebbe) and put ’em in one safe deposit box or at least an alternate site (cloud storage?) so we can retrieve ’em if anyting goes wrong.
So you glad you, Nolemana, and all da animals are safe!
Mokihana……..soooooo glad you are ok and your home is ok too!
Holy smokes!!! Firstly, I’m so glad you’re okay, but remember when I said that I had a dream that your hale was hit by lightening? Well, this is no joke because part of the dream had you busy getting the animals out and running around putting the fire out!!! I should have told you the rest of the dream, you would have fainted at my mention about the fire associated with the lightening! O.O Gives me chicken skin now that I’ve seen your photos of the fire trucks. Gosh I wish I’d told you.
And yes, I love the moss! 🙂
Again, I’m so glad you’re okay and your hale is okay and all the animals!
Ohmygosh!! Glad all is well and that these guys were there for you – natural obstacles notwithstanding. And ohmygosh, your area is BEAUTIFUL!! I don’t think I realized how “woodsy” your driveway is! That green moss along the road reminds me of my Nuuanu alley, and how mossed over it would get every winter.
Happy all is safe and well with you. And also, new love for your brown and white horsie. He is just gorgeous.
Wowowowow!!! You had quite the uninvited adventure. I love the photos and story. I am glad to hear your journalsj, and your creatures are safe and sound. So glad! Love ya!
ho da excitements!!!!!
who woulda thought the furnace would do that?!!
I too say mahalo ke Akua
Well, that was a bit of excitement for the day; or the year! Fire is so scary; I’m glad it didn’t turn into a disaster. Great pictures and commentary; you could go to work for a paper or something; you’d get all the best shots.
Glad everything came out okay! Thank you from me too to the firemen. And if you don’t have one yet, please get a carbon monoxide detector; my family and I were hospitalized once because we didn’t have one and our house got flooded with CO by the furnace.
I’m heading out to get a CO detector tomorrow, Alison. I decided to do that as the firemen left last week!
Wow! Dats one hair-raising day! So glad everting stay well! Pix are great! Still wish you’d won da lotto tho.
Second me on da cookies. Evertime we have da big fiahs roun heah, I get busy bakin up cookies and pies foa da fiah guys… course sorta biased tinkin we got da bestest anyweah… but oh do dey perk up when I bring in 10 pounds of wedding cookies…(wot can I say? ovahdo evertin when get inspired ) Hey wy boddah wit jus couple cookies, eh? Las time we had hundreds of em up da street… (some even came down from Oregon!) so couple pans of cookies not gonna last, nope!
What a lovely area. and… MOSS! Hey, can send some down in June foa our bonsai show den? Hardah dan heck gettin good moss down heah, an make reallly good points wid da judges, lol.
Need a crew come up an help dig moah driveawy?
Hugs!! Glad to heah all came out well. And great pichas… jas like bein dere.
Meant to check in and write about this earlier, Mokihana. Such a DAY you had!
Not sure why, but I haven’t been able to see the photos you took. There’s a note in the box where the photo would be saying, “We’re doing a little work right now…”etc.
Firemen are my heroes!
Hugs to you,