Have
you ever heard the expression “set your fields on fire?” It
actually comes from the Biblical strong man Samson's encounter with
the Philistines,
who stole his wife and gave her to another man. He became so angry
when he learned of this that he tied 300 foxes tails together, set
their tails on fire and loosed them in the corn fields and vineyards,
spreading fire as they ran. Which translates to “Hey, I'm angry and
I want some attention over here!” (Now I don't recommend this,
because the Philistines then set Samson's wife and his father-in-law
afire.) Step back, Jerry Springer, there are really some fascinating
tales in the Bible.
I
have my very own fiery field story. When
I was a child growing
up in Macedonia, my dad
kept horses and cows confined with the use of electric fencing. Broom
sage grew everywhere, but seemed to prefer the space near the
electric fence. When conditions were dry and windy,
well even Samson would be pleased with the rapid spread of the
ensuing blaze. Once we were fighting a fire with pine branches when
the wind shifted suddenly and scorched my face. I couldn't see very
well but didn't know why. My eyebrows had been singed off completely
and my lashes melted together, obscuring my vision. My younger sister
thought this was wonderful and was laughing hysterically. Apparently
she thought it was a trick I did just to entertain her. But it's an
ill wind that blows no good. I've had Brooke Shield eyebrows ever
since that impromptu facial.
Dad
always seemed to be at work when the brush fires broke out, so we
learned to frequently
scan the fields for flames during dry spells. You've heard, no doubt,
of steak on the hoof, but we preferred our cows butchered before we
grilled them. (Except for my sister, who refused to eat any cow she
had called by name.) At any rate, fire control was a high priority.
One
hot breezy day, a rather large fire broke out in the field and my
siblings sent me inside to call the fire department. Remember, I am
ancient and this was pre-911. In my haste, I couldn't find the phone
book so I dialed the operator and asked for the number to Hood's
Grocery Store in Macedonia on the Moncks Corner line. (Don't
get confused here; Macedonia is in the St. Stephen tax district, has
a Bonneau mailing address, is on the Moncks Corner landline, and
has two schools and 6
churches.) It sounded to me like the operator was slowly turning
pages to find the number so I asked her to please hurry, as I needed
to report a fire. “But Ma'am,” she said, “If there's a fire,
shouldn't you be calling the fire department and not the grocery
store?”I replied quickly, “Lady I 'm in the country and the fire
department is in the grocery store!”
There
was a very happy ending to this hot story. The incredulous operator
gave me the number and the brave volunteer firefighters responded
rapidly, thus saving the livestock (and my facial hair) once again.
Our modern day fire
department now has its own building with quite modern equipment and
very well-trained firemen. But there was a time when we were thrilled
to share space and a telephone with the local grocery store.
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