Skip to main content

Survival Sept. 1970

 


Two minute read:

"Power In the Shadows":. ... Oh the Irony....😏

In late September 1970 I survived a house fire. It was before my eighth birthday. Initially, my brother who was age nine, my father and my mother forgot about me. I had been in a deep sleep from two injuries and an allergic reaction I'd had from a medicine for one of the injuries. I was dead to the world for four hours. I woke up stairs to smoked filled rooms I was groggy from the drug I was given after school As I got to the top of the thirteen stairs that lead to our kitchen that was on fire, I heard a commotion. Standing at the top of the staircase I realized as I had trouble breathing and I couldn't see a thing. It was what seemed a white smokey film. I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Moooom!!!!!" I took three steps down unable to see, then a hand pulled me onto my butt and dragged me down to the bottom of the stairs . I knew to stay on the ground. My Mom let me go, I crawled as I heard her tell to me orders of what to do and where to go with my brother. My brother was losing it. As the two of us got out of our home our parents remained in the kitchen fighting the fire in our rented barn house. I knew then to pray, yet I also knew death could ensue. My mom always told us to take care of one another and that my brother carried the name . So, I knew to be true to our mother's orders, I pulled at my crying self-centered older brother, and reminded him that our mother knew what she was doing. He followed my demand. In the end our parents saved our home, we lost our cabinets , fridge and most of our food, yet my brother and I were on time for school the next morning with barely any sleep. My voice and throat felt scorched for a few days , yet we were all alive still and still had a roof over our heads. The thing I remember probably the most inronically, was as the firefighters allowed us to go back into our home at about midnight , fans blasting upstairs just outside the bedroom my brother and I shared. Music played. The song was "Puff the Magic Dragon" by Peter, Paul and Mary.---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

Maybe It's About Love

Maybe I just don't get it... "...My father sits at night with no lights on..."---Carly Simon  In my male-dominant mind. Dr. Suess-ish sing-songy "...go go go go on an adventure..." (George Santos' escapades gave me permission to use "ish".) I'd been accused of not being detailed enough in my writing. as my writer friend, Caytha put it to me now near twenty years ago. I knew she was correct. It's gotten a lot better, a whole bunch better. But the writing of sex scenes... Well... I'll need Caytha for that.  "...his cigarette glows in the dark..."---Carly Simon  Even my husband Norman could have written the simple sex scenes better than I, that I currently need in my script. And he was not a writer, but a math oriented thinker. Ala carte he was a nurturing romantic. And a sort of romantic Humphrey Bogart to his Ingrid. Otherwise, I won't go into details there. I'll let the mature audiences use their imagination. I am so

Birth is a Lottery

  Yes, this is about Taylor Swift and Love. I’ve had this discussion in depth nearly twenty years ago with a client. We were discussing being grateful for landing where we had in the years we were born.  As to now, after that conversation, my attitude still holds. You gotta kind of be happy for other people in some way, no matter where you came from. It’s like good sportsman-like conduct. You lose, you shake hands, hug, whatever. That is how I’ve handled it 99% of the time, win or lose. I remember one time, one moment in my life I didn’t do that. And I still stand by my not doing so that evening after a competition. Otherwise, every other competitor deserved my congrats.  My fight coach said that I was unusual (2013) because after losing a fight, I act as though I’ve won. To me, it was that I was just so happy to be able to compete. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. I’ll say that again. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. In softball, when I was aged nine (1971), we lost all our games as the &qu