We had a horrible evening at my apartment building last night. You can read about it here.
My heart goes out to my attendants and the guy who died. He was infamous for drugs and street activity. He followed trouble. He liked to make small talk with me. A few hours before he died, I came home and he saw me in the building lobby. He said he could "smell the hot peppers" (from the sub hanging on the back of his wheelchair). He told me he loved hot peppers and I told him I did too. Little did he know the worst kind of heat would soon claim his life.
I was there when attendants came into their lounge screaming that the guy had burned to death. I saw them crying. I was there when firemen burst through the building and told us to get out. My wheelchair controller got pushed out of my reach, so I was blocking the entrance until an attendant helped me.
We stayed outside for three hours. It felt like a bad dream. The guy who died never did things simply. He went down in the news on September 11.