- A few weeks ago I was called by our chief, Jim Madden,
and asked if I would be available to be at the fire hall at a quarter to
seven. "Of course," say I, "what's up?"
-
- "Are you on a cordless phone?" Asks he.
-
- "No," I reply, "an ordinary one."
-
- "Okay, good. Well, it seems the Ontario Provincial
Police have some contraband they need burned -- about ten pounds. It's
stinking up their evidence room and it needs to be disposed of. Do you
want to do a controlled burn?"
-
- "Sure."
-
- "Okay, see you at seven."
-
- I arrive at 6:30pm - I've never been early for anything
in my life - and wander over to Jimmy's chip-hut across the road from the
fire hall. I was ready for the clandestine nocturnal rendevous.
-
- "Evening everybody." I say smiling with devilish
delight.
- I order a Coke and wait.
-
- In short order the OPP van arrives and after a few quick
instructions we head to the incineration area -- a secluded sand pit at
a farm.
-
- The two officers stood like bulwark beacons of security
as the malodorous marijuana was unloaded from the van.
-
- Two burn barrels were placed in the sand and some wood
and gasoline was then placed in each. Several garbage bags of the wild-wood-flower
were set by each barrel.
-
- Two flares were lit and dropped into the barrels. In
short order a rush of flame engulfed the illegal material.
-
- As it turned out, the weed had been in the bags so long
that it had started to ferment thus the illegal contents had become somewhat
moist. So, despite the initial impression that the wild-wood-flower was
burning, it was not. The Sam McGee-esque plant seemed to enjoy the fire.
Soon the gas and wood extinguished themselves. Melted green plastic draped
the singed but relatively intact, pot.
-
- We decided to ratchet-up our efforts to insure that the
seemingly fireproof weed would eventually be destroyed.
-
- I quipped, "Perhaps we should adopt the Yule Gibbon
methodology of disposal which states, "If you can't beat 'em (weeds),
eat 'em." The men started to laugh along with the police officers.
-
- A decision was made to simply pour the contents of the
barrels into the ground and set a simple wood fire under these weeds-from-hell.
-
- This worked fine for the one barrel but upon rolling
the second into position, unburned gas from our initial efforts at incineration
cascaded into the fire as the barrel was placed up-side-down on the burning
material.
-
- It was at that precise moment that Bedford Township of
South Frontenac entered the space race -- the whereabouts of the barrel
may only be known by NORAD.
-
- Although early efforts by firefighters to burn the stubborn
weed were unsuccessful, it warms this firefighter's heart to say that our
valiant struggle to develop a hot smokey fire was finally realized.
-
- Sparks raced dangerously skyward returning to earth a
short distance away. Bedford's bravest rushed courageously "down wind"
extinguishing the falling embers thus selflessly insuring public safety
-- no telling how much of that sand might have burned.
-
- All too soon it was over. The police left for duties
unknown and five Bedford firefighters returned to the fire hall and ordered
ten pizzas.
-
-
- --Lea MacDonald
- inventor@adan.kingston.net
|
