Stay Tuned

Chapter 60

Rick made it back to the studio in record time to announce the live cut-in. I watched him on a small television set a few yards away next to my cameraman and adjusted the sound on the live truck’s extra earpiece.

Sharice hadn’t made it. She’d died in the fire, rescuing residents, dragging people to safety.
I was in shock. It couldn’t be real. She was the only fatality, so far. The firefighters estimated that she saved at least six residents before succumbing to smoke inhalation.

Oh, Sharice.

“…Our own Melissa Moore is on the scene. Melissa, what can you tell us about this afternoon’s fire at Magnolia Woods nursing home?”

I paused a second to gather my final thoughts, then answered. “Rick, what you see behind me is the clean-up effort following a massive fire at Magnolia Woods.” I stepped to the side and allowed the cameraman to get a wide shot of the damaged building, many parts of it charred and still smoldering.

“Employees of the nursing home told me the blaze started in the kitchen, after they were unable to contain a grease fire on one of the stoves. When they realized they couldn’t control it, they called 9-1-1 and started the evacuation process.”

The television screen flashed back to Rick. I stepped back into the camera shot as he spoke.

“What about the explosion that happened later, after the fire started? Any foul play suspected?” Rick prompted.

“No foul play suspected. There is speculation that the explosion may have stemmed from a closet where several old, very large oxygen tanks were being stored until the nursing home could dispose of them. We’ll have final word on that in a few days when the report is filed. Rick?”

Rick filled the television screen again. “Melissa, how many people live and work at the nursing home?” Rick asked.

From the studio, Joe rolled file footage of the nursing home.

“Forty-eight residents lived here, though they won’t be able to come back to this facility for quite some time due to smoke and water damage.” I paused to take a breath. “As for the employees, nineteen were working this morning when the fire started.

“The company that owns Magnolia Woods has already promised to find places for the employees in the other nursing homes they own in the Macon and surrounding areas. That’s huge peace of mind for those folks who need to keep a paycheck coming in,” I added.

“Melissa, were many people injured?” Rick continued. “And if so, do we know their medical status and if all of the families have been contacted?”

The camera was back on me. “Unfortunately, Rick, six residents of the nursing home and four employees had to be transported to the hospital and are now undergoing treatment for smoke inhalation and minor burns. Those residents happened to be returning from the dining area in the back of the building near the kitchen at the time the fire began.

“We do have confirmation that one employee lost her life in the fire. A single mother, a nurse, and a fine person.” My voice cracked. “We’ll have an update on her story on WSGA News at Six.”

The television screen went back to Rick. “Our thoughts and prayers are with her family. Melissa, we understand that your own mother is one of the residents of the nursing home. How’s she doing?”

The question caught me off guard. We’re lucky she’s alive, was all that was running through my mind. But I had to pull myself together.

“It’s been an emotional afternoon, Rick. But thanks to the Macon firefighters, my mother was rescued.” My throat caught and one tear escaped. “She’s going to be all right.” I swallowed and tried to get composed. “We…we were very lucky.”

“Thanks, Melissa. Melissa Moore reporting live from Magnolia Woods Nursing Home, the scene of a large fire this afternoon. Several elderly residents and employees of the facility were sent to the hospital for treatment of injuries. We’ll have more tonight on WSGA News at Six. See you then.”

The television screen flashed to commercial. Several yards away, my cameraman signaled we were finished. He’d stay here for the six and ten live shots. As I picked up my purse and the bottle of water I had grabbed from the live truck, my cell phone buzzed.

“Chris?” I answered. “How’s Mother doing? Does she know about Sharice?” Her name caught in my throat. The photo of her little son, Darius, was fixed in my mind.

“I don’t think so. She’s sleeping right now. She’s exhausted. I’ll bet you are, too.”

“You bet right.” I sighed. “We’re on our way back to the station.”

“Melissa?”

“Still here,” I answered.

“What I wanted to say,” Chris cleared his throat, “is that I’m really proud of you.”