Editor’s note: This letter was received before the Cranston Fire of July 25. It was temporarily lost in the scramble of evacuation.
[July 18] was another idyllic day at my little cabin in Mountain Center, where one of my greatest joys is simply leaving cool water out back to see what birds and bunnies may come to drink.
As I walked up the back steps to the door, I heard the distinctive rattle and saw the tail of a snake coiling itself into a dark corner between the cabin and the steps.
Adrenaline kicked right in: I shut and bolted the back door, pulled on the snake boots, grabbed the big walking stick and headed out the front door to get advice or assistance.
Casey, behind the counter at Mountain Center Market, introduced me to Larry [Bischof] and Luis [Marroquin], who rose to the occasion and took charge.
Larry, armed with a shovel, and assisted by Luis, took only a minute to sever the head from the body and bury it. The 3-foot pelt was saved for someone to make a belt.
There is nothing ordinary about helping a total stranger, with tenacity, courage and compassion. (I read in your fine newspaper about the cooperation between folk on the Hill, but until [July 18], had not experienced it myself.)
It is true: There are angels on the Hill and there are heroes among us.