In my last post, I spoke about the people in Staten Island. We got to know a few of the residents quite well, even though I have forgotten most of their names. One I will not forget is Anthony. He was always there helping out though he needed help himself.
The last night we were there, a strange set of events occurred Cindy said “I smell something burning”. Someone answered that it must be the campfire – a smelly piece of driftwood on the fire. Cindy said it smelled different but we sloughed it off.
It was our last night there as our daughter needed our help in North Carolina the next day. We turned in early. Cindy went back out to the supply tent to look for kleenex. She heard some yelling coming from down the street. She came to get me saying something like “they broke into Anthony’s house.”
As I headed out, I heard sirens. Three fire truck arrived on the scene. They were followed closely by three more – the flashing lights lit up the darkened streets. We arrived on the scene right behind the fire fighters. We could see smoke oozing from the shingles of a home. We also saw Anthony, visibly in shock and possibly burned in the fire. Despite his injuries, he was yelling to the firemen to tell them exactly where the fire was. We watched as the firemen ripped apart what was left of the water damaged home to find the fire and put it out.
A couple of our volunteers were helping Anthony until the paramedics arrived to begin treating him. The rest of the story we learned from a news article on the internet. We have yet to get any more news about Anthony. If anyone has heard, please let me know.