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Burnt embers
Copyright Joanna Black 2024
Updated Feb 2013
Topics Documentary, Events, Fine Art, Friends + Family, photojournalism, Still life, Street

Today I found out that a lovely old man whose name I don't know, who lives around the corner from me and always stops to give my two dogs a treat when he sees them was in hospital. Why? Last night his home went up in flames.

This 81 year old man (the news gave his age) I know lost his wife last year, she had been ill for a long time. When she died he made a point of keeping in touch with the world through walking around our neighbourhood. He would always be there to give the local dogs a treat every time they exchanged greetings, it always made me smile.  My two dogs would run the length of the street to him the minute they saw him, it made us all very happy.

Today viewing some of the burnt content lying on the kerb, I noticed a strip of paper which I recognised as a one dollar bill. I retrieved it to the surprise of another neighbour who I was talking to and hadn't noticed it. The note was 3/4 intact and it made me sad, this note had meaning, it was a memory for him of something so I saved it for him. 

Later in the day when going for lunch, his 50 year old son was on the doorstep of his house trying to tidy up, knowing his father would be returning soon. I asked how his father was and was glad to hear he was fine. The fire had started because the pipe he always smoked must have been put in his coat pocket not fully extiinguished. The old man had awoken to hearing the glass on his Grandfathers portrait which majestically hung in the other room explode from the heat. It is his grandfather's portrait that saved him. His grandfather was clearly watching over.

As I was listening to this story I retrieved the burnt dollar bill I had kept in my pocket and gave it to his son telling him of how I had come by it. We then went to the burnt embers and in the pile noticed a melted tool box which he put to one side saying "that's my Dad's set of tools". In doing this we then spotted a wicker container, mainly burnt, but inside it was some more foreign currency notes and two childrens books, one being his own childhood book he had so dearly loved and had forgotten about. It was there along with a colouring book that belonged to his Mother in later years. I had been sure this dollar had been a memory. I am glad I was right as this and other memories were saved from being disposed of. His father had kept and preserved them because he knew they had meaning and were something his son didn't know about until that moment when he found them partially burnt underneath some burnt garbage. We had found treasure in the burnt embers.

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Burnt embers by Joanna Black
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