At mile 10.5 of my run this morning, I turned the corner and headed toward the house. I smelled natural gas. “It’s not our house,” I thought, “I’m about nine houses away.” I turned another corner and heard a waterfall. But it wasn’t a waterfall.
I checked my phone. A message from my son read, “Come home now. We have a gas leak.”
The last .6 miles was the fastest of my run.
The dry soil had pulled the gas line from the gas meter. The house, and maybe my neighbor’s, stood a very good chance of blowing up and burning down.
I called the gas company. A nice lady from another state asked me several questions. I urgently told her, “I don’t need to fill out a survey, I need you guys to get out here and turn off my gas.” My neighbors would hate me if I blew their house up.
When you smell gas, you leave. Immediately. You don’t use your phone or turn on a light. Any spark and kaboom! My wife, kids and dog were safely out. Good. The gas continued to hiss its evil hiss.
I called 911. “You might want to get the fire department out here. I have a bad feeling they may be needed soon.”
A few minutes later, the parade arrived. The police, a fire truck and a couple of smaller trucks. The firefighters turned off the gas. Soon afterwards, the gas company showed up (he had been on a call in Jackson and made record time — he had also called the fire department). Within 20 minutes, he and his partner had masterfully fixed the gas line and we began to air out the house.
I tell you this because I am thankful and lucky. We had thought about being out of town today. We weren’t — so we were here to catch it as soon as it broke. Amy was lighting a candle but stopped when she heard the break — that could have led to a kaboom. I have a great neighbor Paul who called the gas company, too (my wife had also). He also alerted my other neighbors. The firefighters got here fast. The gas company’s technician did a great job getting everything fixed.
I’m thankful we still have a house and that my neighbors still have windows. My middle son said, “well, it would have been the ultimate Thanksgiving lesson — that we’re ok even though we lost everything.” My wife and I looked at him and shook our heads.
Because of the professionalism of the fire department and the gas company (and a lack of a spark) it turned out to be no big deal. But it sure would have been an inefficient way to cook the turkey.