For those who don’t know, and it’s likely a good many of you who don’t,  I work for a cabinet manufacturing company.  Today we had something happen that had the potential to be extremely devastating.  We had a fire and explosion within our dust collection system.  By Grace it was in the outside “hopper” that feeds into a truck we have hauled away and once we got all employees out of the plant, my two lead guys  in the plant were AWESOME at getting the pipe unhooked from the line that leads back into the building to keep it from getting back into the building.  Saw dust is very combustible.  Highly.  Extremely.  Very much so.   The fire department got there in no time.  Word spreads fast in a small town and I’m sure some prayers went up quickly for us.  

I’ve worked for the company for about 5-1/2 years, but it has been my “family’s” business for about 25 years.  Even though my parents no longer own the company, it’s still my family’s business.  Some of these guys have been around for 12-13 years and many for 3-6.   We’re extended family.  

 Sawdust paid for my first car.  Sawdust paid for my college.  Sawdust kept me from having to move to Oklahoma when Will and I got married (my dad offered him a job to keep us on the East coast).    For the past 12 years sawdust has paid our bills; first when Will worked there and now for me.   

With a 75,000 square foot building that has wood in every part of it – raw materials or finished goods – that’s a whole lot of kindling, folks.  

Adrenaline kept me going, but the aftermath has me spent.   

I’ve had a shower and my clothes are being washed, but I still smell smoke.

Tomorrow’s another day.  It will be a better day than today.

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