Fire

posted in: The Stories of Seattle WA | 0

By Steve, July 23, 2016 – I worked in Alaska for six seasons (that’s fishing seasons), which is approximately six months. One season, the last one at the cannery I worked at, we had two bunk houses at the cannery and the Filipino house.

One evening I was headed home from the boat and I noticed some smoke coming out of the Filipino bunk – the house was smoking!

The Filipinos had a large rice bowl about five feet around that they kept cooking at night in order to have bowls of rice to take back to their rooms for snacks.

One night I noticed smoke coming out of the windows. I went in and one side of the bowl had caught on fire!

I ran upstairs, beating on the doors to wake them up. Most of them didn’t speak English. I pulled a few of them to show them the smoke and flames.

We went running downstairs and the kitchen was on fire. The front was engulfed in flames, which was the main exit. With most of the residents behind me, we broke down the only exit, which was on fire. I burnt my hand and my face and my shirt was burning. They took me into the kitchen and put ointment on me.

My mother in Seattle called the cannery – all they told her was “he’s in the hospital”, so she jumped on the next plane there. From the kitchen, we went straight to the hospital. Just released, I ran into her in the hospital and she was so mad! She came up to me yelling, “You blanky blank! Don’t ever scare me like that! We’re going home!” I was so embarrassed, I went home. Needless to say, Mama knows best.