Guest: How to Burn Off Grass…Very, Very Quickly

My Life Is Crazy Too is a new series of reader submissions. This is your opportunity to share stories about life, love, and mommyhood to provide understanding, hope, and compassion in the unique situations each of us face every day. If you would like to submit a story to this series, email me. Today’s crazy guest is Jennifer Campbell. You can follow Jennifer on Facebook here. Post edited by writer, Kathi Woodall. You can check out her blog Grow Barefoot here.

In 2004, Bill and I had been in Haiti just over a year and were starting to feel some confidence. We had half a dozen boys in the orphanage and two baby girls living with us. Political unrest plagued Haiti that year as rebels caused trouble for different people. Despite the rebel groups, the day of our story began as a quiet day for us; the girls played in their playpen and Wisley rested in the sickroom as he recovered from strep throat.

Although it was spring, the landscape was very brown. Our grass had been so long and beautiful the summer before; now it was a brown, dry mess. Everyone waited on the rains to start.

Bill had seen the Haitian farmers do controlled burns during our time there. He decided he needed to burn the grass before the rains came. He and Jesse would get the job done that afternoon.

While talking on the satellite phone to one of our committee members, I looked out the window. I saw Bill and Jesse head toward the northwest corner of the property with matches and a bucket of water. They took some dried grass, lit it, and started a small, controlled fire.

Just then, a small breeze started up and blew the smoke toward the windows. Still talking on the phone, I shut the windows to keep out the smoke. The wind started blowing harder; I watched as the small fire started growing. Not only growing, but also moving toward the house. I hung up the telephone and started to go shut the rest of the windows in our home.

Before I knew it, the flames were at the house, reaching as high as the roof. As I looked out a window, all I saw were flames and smoke. Moving quickly, I grabbed both babies and called for Wisley. Knowing they would be safe with the cinder-block walls and concrete floor, I put them in the only room that had all its windows shut. I told Wisley to stay with the girls and not leave that room.

Running to the front porch, I saw Bill move the new Toyota down the drive – away from the flames. By then, our gardener and other employees had seen what was happening; they came running to help. Every one scrambled for buckets and anything else that could carry water as they tried to put out the flames. Men took turns pumping the hand pump, trying to get enough water from the cisterns to fight the fire. I was in the kitchen, filling any containers I could find with water from our tank. The fire now surrounded the house and headed down the driveway.

Bill, realizing he needed more help, came in to call Pastor Francois on the radio. Out of breath, Bill yelled into the radio, “Pastor Francois, come quickly! I need help, the yard is on fire!” Pastor Francois said he was coming immediately. A few minutes later, his truck raced up the driveway, loaded with half a dozen men in the back, all carrying machetes and big sticks.

“Where are the rebels?” Pastor shouted to be heard as he looked around through the chaos of smoke, flames, and people running with buckets.

Pastor Francois had misheard Bill’s radio call. He thought Bill said rebels were setting our house and yard on fire. With only a second’s notice, he had gathered some men. Armed with what they could find, they came ready to battle!