F is for Fires

During the summer we would have a ritual every weekend. Although the details changed one thing remained, we had to burn something. Usually it was old tree branches or garbage that needed to be thrown out, but sometimes it was whole trees that had been cut down, even thrown out Christmas trees. Whatever the material we drug it over to our alter of fire, which was patch of dirt and surrounded by a hole dug six inches into the ground (that acted like a moat) which keeps the fire from spreading (with out our approval). This alter was about four feet wide and four feet long.

Most weekends during the day Nate and I and sometimes some other people would come over and start gathering items to burn. Nate lived outside of town in a very woody area right next to a creek and a highway bridge that the creek went under. In fact, you had to walk over a bridge just to get to Nate’s backyard. We would gather old branches or push down old trees and then drag them over to the pit. By the time we were done we created a mountain of flammable objects. The next thing that would happen was one of us would go around collecting loose change from everyone else and then go into down and buy 8 to 10 gallons of gas to use to start the fire.

Over the years when the person who bought the gas came back they would drop off the gas on the side of the bridge and then continue driving down the road and into Nate’s driveway about 100 feet down the road. This was done because of the fires we had in the summers before, Nate’s mom got kind of worried that the fires were getting to big and told us to cut back on the gas. So we would drop off the gas before Nate’s mom would have a chance to see how much gas we actually use.

After the gas was dropped off someone would usually take the honors and start pouring the gas on the burning pit, about ¾ of all the gas. By the time that person was done, the whole backyard was filled with gasoline fumes. Then we would take one of the gas soaked sticks away from the pile about 20 feet and then light the stick and throw the fire stick into the pile igniting the pit. The fire stick would start a chain reaction that would light up the whole backyard. For a brief second the whole pile would explode into a ball of fire 20 feet high and 30 feet wide. Accompanying the fireball would be a sound that would bring even the bravest of men to cringe. A deep bellow almost like a sonic boom that would make everyone jump and the windows on our cars to rattle. This was quite exciting and I have never really seen or experience anything like that before.

As you can tell the reason we had a fire stick was because of the experience we got from lighting the pile with all of us standing close to it and then having our leg, arm, and eyebrow hairs burned off. We still got a little burnt even with throwing the fire stick, just not as much.

I am not quite sure why but every time we hear that sonic boom everyone would go nuts! Whether it’s the joy that we made it out alive yet again, or the excitement we got knowing how close we were in getting harmed, it remains a mystery to this day for me. Some of us would rip off our shirts and then go run circling the fire pit screaming at the top of our lungs. Others would take the extra two gallons of gas and would start making fire circles of their own.

Nate would usually do both, but after he calmed down and put his shirt back on, he would grab the gas can and began making trails of fire on the ground by pouring gas onto the fire pit and then having the fire fallow the gas trail on the ground. He would make circles around himself making him stand in the middle with the gas can, most times not thinking completely through of the situation he was in.

Others would pour gas in a dirt hole we made in the yard, light that on fire and then begin to jump over the flames. Sam was especially fond of this activity. He would not only jump over the flames but would jump in the hole stomping on the ground as fast as he could watching the flames come up on his shoe and then disappear when they become separated from the gas. You would always hear a high pitch laughter coming from Sam every time he did this; it was something to the affect of a little schoolboy and the sound of someone jumping when they get scared. I can still remember that sound to this day.

The last and most fun thing we would do is mess with the creek. We would take whatever gas that was left and pour it in the creek and then light it and watch the flames flow down the creek. Because the creek was in a valley the wind did something different to the flames than it would on flat land. If you poured a lot of gas on the creek the flames would rise up and form a mini tornado, which was one of the coolest things I had ever seen. Sometimes we would get over board and pour too much gas on the creek and catch the bank or the bridge on fire, this was a funny sight because every time this happened Nate would freak out and scream, “Oh, Nooooooo!” in a deep frustrated voice.

He would then run to the fire and begin either stomping out the flames or patting out the flames with his bare hands. Nate wasn’t really well known for thinking things through when an emergencies. But every time he would just barely escape with putting out the flames and at the same time only burning off just his arm and leg hairs.

Before we lit every fire we would make sure no cares were coming down the highway, because we didn’t want someone calling the cops saying there was something wrong. But one night we forgot to look for a car and as we lit the fire pit a car drove past, we didn’t think much of it at the time, but a couple of minutes later the whole highway was lit up with blue and red fire truck lights. A total of three fire trucks, and two cop cars pulled onto the side of the road right near Nate’s backyard and walked down through the woods asking if there was something wrong. I guess the story goes went, the person who was driving by at the time of the sonic boom thought there was something wrong so he/she called the fire department saying there was a barn on fire. Although the flames were big enough to think a barn was on fire, it was just the fire pit.

But Nate’s dad seeing all the commotion in his back yard came out and starting asking was went wrong. No damage was done, and we even invited the firemen to roast some marshmallows with us, but they had to get back since it was one in the morning at the time. Nate’s dad was completely embarrassed and we never had a fire that big since, although we have tried.

In the morning after the fire has burned itself out, and there is nothing but hot coals left Nate’s backyard looking like an Alien encounter happened. If you walked outside in the morning you would see burn grass circles all over, almost like aliens came and while they were landing the fire from their ships scorched the ground. It was a funny sight to all of us but Nate’s mom was not too happy…

Sure over the years we had some minor burns and scorched hair, but looking back on it we were really lucky that we didn’t completely kill ourselves. But I think that about a lot of our adventures. Although I don’t know if I would do those things I did back then if I had a chance to do them now, I would never trade anything for the experience I had in Marshalltown.

My Memories,Kalgon