I guess some explanation is in order. Okay, I live at the dot on the far right. My cousin and her two children (divorced mother) live at the dot in the middle. Shanna rents out an apartment behind her place, and one of her previous residents left a package of bottle rockets in a cabinet.
Now, Shanna had to go somewhere. It's Spring Break for public schools right now. Her daughter was at a friend's house, which left her 12 (or thereabouts) year old son there to manage by himself for a bit. He got bored, poked around the apartment, found the bottle rockets and, because Trent has a profound lack of common sense at times, decided to shoot some off in the woods at the point on the far left.
The outlined area in red is how much burned before the fire department and myself and another neighbor put it out.
Apparently, Trent saw the fire, freaked, ran to his house, and dialed all the numbers he could think of to let people know.
So between the various people working phones, the fire department was notified, and I was called.
So I run over there (literally, and wearing shorts like I had good sense). A fire extinguisher and some vigorous slapping with a shovel got the grass on the edge of that trail put out, but the fire department had to deal with the underbrush.
Thankfully, no one was burned. Even more thankfully, Trent had the shit scared out of him. He's normally a good kid, just...profoundly adolescent right now. Anyway, Shanna arrived home to find the extended neighborhood and the fire department standing around (ironically, she'd left her cell phone on the charger when she'd left). Still, no one was hurt, Trent won't be playing with fireworks any time soon, and the only damage was to things which would grow back.
Still, eesh. More excitement than I thought would happen today.
On a side note, Google needs to update their aerial photo of my neck of the woods; that road's at the top of the image has been paved for, oh, three or four years now...
