we arrived home at about 12:52 a.m. early sunday morning. pulling into our complex, we were a bit alarmed to see the nine firetrucks and seven police cars that were littering the parking lot, along with the throng of residents. some of them were only in bath robes or pajamas. one woman was holding her cat. i asked somebody, "what's going on?" all the while i was thinking, god, i must have left my blowdryer on. it wasn't my building, though. the building next to ours had caught fire, and that's all that anyone knew.

we hung outside for just a few seconds longer before heading inside to our safe, fire-free apartment. from our windows, we could see the firemen running around and the glare of the emergency lights. chris played a computer game. i watched television. we didn't get to bed until close to three. the firemen were still outside; i had to turn the fan on to drown out their voices so i could get some ever important beauty rest.

the next morning, i labeled myself a jackass for being so able to effectively ignore a tragedy that had occured about three feet away. people had lost their apartments, their clothes, their photographs, their cherished letters, their recently purchased copies of "my cousin vinnie." everything, gone, every tangible evidence of personal histories. i was upset at myself for, once realizing that it wasn't my building, not being all that concerned. where's my sense of caring for humanity? my empathy and kind, loving heart?

at last watch: jacksonville, florida.

here's the news story about it.