This has kinda been weighing on my mind recently, and I don’t want to talk about it with my family, for several reasons, but mostly I don’t want to drag up all that trauma again.

In August 1987, my father was a police officer, working on a temporary basis for our small hometown. One day, he went to work, and was filling his patrol car with gas, when the city garage blew up with him inside. He survived, though severely burned, and 20 years later is fine. Though he still has some skin sensitivity, but as far as I know, no other major issues from his injuries.

I can still remember seeing the explosion, though I didn’t know what it was at that moment. And I remember the call coming in to my grandparents house, where we were, that Dad had been hurt, along with a lot of small bits and pieces of what happened in the hours and weeks afterward.

My sister and I stayed with an Aunt while my parents were 3 hrs away, first at the hospital, then out, but still going to the hospital daily for treatment.  The first time I saw my dad after the was burned, which, can be pretty scary for a 9 year old, even if it is not a parent. When he finally got to come home. The constant, never ending battle with Workman’s Compensation to get them to cover all the medical bills.

The strange differences in the perceptions of a 9 year old, and the way I see things now, 20 years later.