Personal Narrative: Moving To School

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My dad, Todd Wotring, moved from Florida to go to school at University Technical Institution in Houston, TX. There he got his diesel mechanic degree. That’s where he met my mother and he started perusing his dreams. In the year of 1999 dad became a firefighter, which had always been his childhood dream. I was always leery about him going into the fires, but at the same time I had always wanted to know what it felt like to ride on the truck. I have been going on calls since the young age of six. It was about 9:30 p.m. dad and I were home alone mom was working the 24 hour shift on the ambulance, so it was just dad and me. We were sitting in the living room watching Ladder 49 with the smell of salt and butter in the air. As the fire alarm went…show more content…
The smoke was so thick the lights looked dim like someone had thrown a blanket over the trucks. It was very thick. So thick you couldn’t see five feet in front of you. The smell was horrid. It smelt like burning rubber and road kill. Even in the truck it was very strong. I couldn’t imagine what it smelled like if I was out there. As we pulled up to the house I saw it. The glow of the fire was bouncing off the night clouds like a mirror. The bright orange and yellow flames shot through the windows and roof. In the back of the house near the chimney the flames looked like a tornado. The weird thing was the top part of the flame was orange and yellow but the bottom closest to the opening of the roof was a green-blue, yes a green-blue. It was so weird and I remember my dad telling me before that, that the green-blue is the hottest part of the fire. About twenty minutes later channel 13 and channel 2 news pulled…show more content…
I thought I was going to puke. The smell of burning flesh had engulfed me and the flashing lights seemed as if they got brighter. The radio had gone quiet and I couldn’t see or hear anything other than the running engine of the trucks. I sat by myself at the end of the truck for what felt like hours crying. About 2:30 a.m. the fire fighters gained control over the house fire. As they put it out the smoke turned from pitch black to a foggy gray. In that time the fire marshal had gotten there to see if the fire was arson. I knew since three people had been killed the fire marshal would be there and we would have to stay late. Even before the fire marshal could go in to inspect the house, they had to get the bodies out then check for hot spots to make sure the fire wouldn’t start back up. Then the fire marshal could go in. All the guys were moping around putting the hoses and tools up. I was very confused about why they were so upset about people getting killed. They have been on these kinds of calls before. So what was so different about this one? I could hear some of the guys sniffling due to them crying. I walked around hugging every single one of them and told them it would be

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