Kozy fire

This morning massive wooden pillars lean askew at woeful angles. I have always noticed the great pillars on the front of the Kozy, and thought how amazing it would be to see the building restored. I would pass by, imagining what it must have looked like, how beautiful it was/could be again.

It has a distinctively different appeal now. The front of the building is burnt rubble.  the bar, the back of the building and the ballroom, seem untouched, if you let your imagination go, you can imagine the building being struck by a small meteor. In front, just inside the caution tape, the tree that stood in front of the Kozy, that I had never paid much attention too before, is covered in perfect half-inch icicles that remind me of Christmas decorations.

Last night, thunder came down the stairwell. This is not an unusual event; children and full-grown adults regularly pound down the stairs near my door. I hardly hear it anymore. I was heading out with my bicycle and red hat. When two of my neighbors zoomed passed me, they let out “the Kozy is burning” as if it were nothing. I stepped into the street and at first all I saw was a small amount of smoke coming out of one of the windows.

            People generally regarded as ‘hard’ looked soft; their eyes were big and lacking guile, almost seeing nothing. People look like children when they are in this state. I asked one man if I could do anything to help, and he looked right through me like I was a ghost. It wasn’t until I walked around the building, that my eyes must have taken on a similar quality. The flames leaping into the air nauseated me. I felt sickened, confused, I got on my bike and departed.

I removed myself from the situation, as fast as I could, as far as I could, almost thought about not stopping. Luckily, I had been on my way to a friend’s house. She took me in and feed me and distracted me. 

I wish I could do something for them.