We had the ickiest (is that a word?) thing happen in our little town yesterday.
I've told you before that Ole is a volunteer fireman - one of three that is around during the daytime hours. I don't know why, but for some reason there were more guys around yesterday, and boy were both Ole and I glad about that.
Ole was out making hay (mowing the lawn after a month's growth) when the fire pager went off. When he's doing something noisy I carry the pager because he can't hear it. So I listened and it was for the rescue squad - man barricaded in his house with suicidal tendencies. Several minutes went by and the dispatcher paged the rescue squad again. Then about a half hour went by and the dispatcher paged the fire department requesting that they bring a pry bar and breathing apparatus, and that the sheriff's department was already on scene.
Now this sounded really strange. So I went tearing out to round Ole up and send him down to the fire department. Fortunately he was about the 6th guy there so he didn't have to go on the run because it was for assistance, not for a fire.
But that's all Ole heard - no other details.
Well, last night at the community picnic we found out the details - really ugly.
The members of the rescue squad couldn't get in the house, and there was a very strong odor coming from inside. When Ole's fireman buddy got the door open he said he vomited from the odor.
The man in the house had been dead for approximately three weeks. Remember - our temperatures were up in the high 90s last week.
That's all I have to say about that.