Saturday morning was quite the experience.  I had gotten up early (for me) because Sra and I had planned a hike in Bells Canyon in preparation for our big climb of Mount Olympus next week.  Like always, I stumbled groggily into the bathroom to take my shower, when I heard a loud BAM!, followed by a couple of smaller (but equally loud) cracks coming from somewhere outside.  My first thought was that the neighbors were shooting each other again, and at 8AM on a Saturday morning, that was just plain rude.  Subsequent screaming and shouting from the vicinity of outside somewhere further cemented this opinion, and I figured since it was none of my business, I’d just finish my shower and go about my day. 

My second thought, as I was soaping up, was that those cracks sounded pretty loud for gunfire.  Are the neighbors using shotguns this time?  That’s horribly insensitive to people who are still trying to sleep.  No, those blasts were too loud for guns.  Something’s up.  I toweled off and investigated.

Upon stepping out to my balcony, I saw about 100 people milling about and staring at a spectacle which took me a minute to digest.  The neighboring apartment across the pool from mine was gone, and in its place was a massive fireball and a thick cloud of black smoke.  Oh God!  The neighbor’s freaking apartment exploded!  I couldn’t believe it.  I just stood there dumbstruck as the Midvale fire department pulled up and finally justified the purchase of their humongous new ladder truck. 

It didn’t take them too long to put it out, but I think that’s because, at my count, there were nine fire trucks, from all the neighboring cities including Sandy, Murray, West Valley, and even South Jordan, along with various ambulances and support vehicles, and numerous cop cars in every corner of my apartment complex.  Firefighters were running everywhere, and residents (and now former residents) were just walking around in a daze.  Like me, they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

Since I couldn’t get my car out, I walked down to the 7/11 and had Sra pick me up there for our hike.  We were both rather taken with the events of that morning, and couldn’t stop talking about it for a while.  Our hike took all day, and when I got back I grabbed my little camera and walked over toward the site of the destruction.  The area was roped off of course, but there was a news crew there doing a story.  I felt bad snapping a picture with all the (former) residents poking through the ashes of their (former) possessions, but I did manage to grab one blurry one.

The good news is that no one was hurt.  From what I understand, two teenagers went around the apartments banging on the doors and getting everyone out before the buildings went up.  They probably saved several lives by that quick thinking.  The bad news is that 35 people are now homeless and 13 apartments were destroyed.  The building itself will have to be demolished, because the fire marshal says it’s not structurally sound anymore, and as of now there’s still no known cause.

A pretty sad way to start the weekend.

We’ve all been there.  Walking alone somewhere, maybe on a dark street or a parking garage, lost in our thoughts.  Suddenly you’re aware of another person, always a man, always by himself as well, walking behind you.  That guy, walking behind you.

You’re subject to a certain amount of fear and doubt.  Maybe this guy is some kind of mugger?  Maybe he’s a rapist or some sort of unsavory sort?  In your mind, you start running through scenarios on how to deal with it.  You try to remember if your pepper spray is in your purse, or, if you’re a guy, you picture yourself in a possible physical altercation.  Deftly dodging knife swipes while landing jabs to his face.  As you walk, his distance never changes.  You sneak a quick look behind you;  his face is placid and expressionless.  What is he thinking?  You wonder:  Does he have a weapon?  I just need to get to where I’m going.  Get somewhere where people can see me.

Usually it’s just someone else going in your direction.  I suppose there are occasions where there is a crime, but I’m specifically talking about those cases where you’re just scaring yourself.  The guy behind you is harmless, and deep down you know that.

I like to take walks around my neighborhood.  Know that my place isn’t exactly the safest neighborhood though.  I think of Midvale as the armpit of Salt Lake City.  It’s not a slum or a ‘hood, or full of crime-ridden filth, but it’s not really "nice" either.  Most of the architecture involves pawn shops and those sleazy car dealerships that have a trailer for an office.  There’s a sex shop (or what passes for one in Utah, anyway) directly across the street, and there have been a couple of shootings in my complex in the past couple of years.  Still, I enjoy a good stroll around the block, so I walk.  Hoodlums don’t concern be all that much, although I try to stay alert most of the time.

On occasion, I’ll come across a happy couple or a young mom pushing a stroller during my walk.  Just people out for a little exercise, just like me.  These people invariably move to the side a little, or give me one of those nervous smiles as I pass by.  I usually give them a grin or a head nod or in the case of old people, a hello.  No big deal.  I never thought too much about it really.  Sometimes I’ll see someone up ahead going to wherever it is they’re going.  Sometimes they’ll even take a quick glance behind them, maybe sizing me up, or curious as to who I am.  I don’t say anything.  I just keep my face placid and expressionless.  No sense in alarming anyone, right?

I don’t think of myself as an imposing figure.  I’m not any sort of racial minority (actually, come to think of it, I suppose in my particular apartment complex I am.)  I don’t look threatening… at least I don’t think so.  No one has any real reason to fear me at all.  I’m not scary, am I?

It occurred to me just the other night, as I thought more about it.  I think I might be that guy.

That’s kind of cool.