Bad Smoke, Good Smoke
The winds were gusting across the Panhandle when I got the phone call on March 6, 2017: An electric line had blown down and started a fire on a neighboring ranch west of our place in the Canadian River valley. I stepped out the back door of the house and saw a cloud of smoke above the canyon rim, moving rapidly over the flat country. I rushed inside to notify my wife, Kris.
We weren’t in the path of the fire yet, but our house sat in a deep canyon north of the river—and there was only one way out. We needed to evacuate. I glanced around the house. What do you take? Kris picked up her mandolin, and we both grabbed our laptops—mine contained all my writing files, including five unpublished Hank the Cowdog books.
We pointed our Ford Explorer out of the canyon and continued north
You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.
Start your free 30 days