As I think back over my life thus far, there have been many memorable moments. There was the explosion at the gas station, the destruction of the Canada Wire building and my argument with God where I had control of the weather for 15 minutes, but one of my favourite stories to tell is about the Exploding Foam Factory. I normally like to tell stories in person, because then I can add in voices, sound effects, hand movements, and I’m also able to tell if my audience is becoming bored, which would be my cue to wrap things up. I’m a little worried about blogging it, but after reading “The Gun Story” on Tederick, i think this might work out.

It all happened back in 1995, I think. I was in grade 4 and it was the month of April. I remember the weather being warm, with a slight coolness to it. My favourite. From grade 3 on, I walked home for lunch everyday for hot dogs. My lunch was always hot dogs or egg salad sandwiches because those were the quickest meals my dad could make. I was the kid who wanted to eat his lunch as quickly as possible, so he could rush back to school to play football with the other kids. 50 minutes of uninterrupted playtime was the best part of the day. On this day, however, I decided to stay home and climb my tree. I had an excellent tree, and could sometimes spend hours swinging from branch to branch. It was right near the sidewalk of my old front yard, which let me peer up and down the street, hidden from view. At night I would hide in that tree and play tricks on innocent pedestrians. Nobody ever caught me. I was a phantom. (I had a name for that game, but I can't remember it now.)

My old house was in Leaside near Laird. That means, that I was right on the brink of the residential neighbourhood, and the industrial wasteland, which was on the east side of Laird. My house was 2 doors down from Laird on the west side. My street to the west was littered with beautiful houses, neatly trimmed bushes, and happy families. To the west, the street ran 100 feet past laird and ended abruptly at one of the factories. I had never known what the factory was used for, and had never seen anybody go in, or out, of it. To me, it was the Willy Wonka factory of the neighbourhood. The factory consisted of two visible silos poking out over a closer building, and a large warehouse, that was decorated with numerous pipes, like a metallic ivy. There might have been another building, or other offices, but I could never see them. The two silos, each had a blinking red light at the top, that I used to pretend was a beacon for aliens.

I had wolfed down my lunch, as usual, and had gone out to the tree. I was out there for about 20 minutes, when the regular racket of the busy traffic on Laird, was broken by blaring sirens from numerous fire trucks. By this time in my life, I had gotten used to that sound because the fire station was within 200 metres of my house. This time, however, I noticed that the sirens had gotten louder, as they normally did, but they weren’t fading away. It sounded like they had stopped. Before I was able to run and find out where, another, and much louder, siren broke out from the west side of Laird. It was so loud, I almost let go of the branch I was hanging upside down from, as I tried to shield my ears. It was at this point that everything hit me at a wave, and I finally realized what was happening. There was a crowd of about 100 people standing at the intersection. Most off them were office workers, but there was an odd scientist, scattered amongst the crowd. I knew they were scientists because they looked just like the ones from my cartoons, and video games. I was so distracted that I had forgotten that I was upside down. How can you forget your upside down? Well, I liked to watch TV and, occasionally, eat upside down, so it was like second nature to me. I was a weird kid. By the time I got to the ground, and felt how dizzy I was, I noticed that there were two fire trucks at the intersection, now blocking the traffic. There lights were flashing, and firemen were holding the crowds back.

The crowd had started mingling, and some of the scientists were talking to the firemen, when....KABOOM! One of the silos, burst open at the top! The roof was still intact and I probably wouldn’t have guessed that the noise came from the silo, if it wasn’t for a white liquid oozing from the top, running down the side of the silo. The alarm went silent, everyone stopped talking, and even the thoroughly annoyed traffic, stopped honking. All I remember hearing was the cool breeze blowing through my tree overhead, as I watched the liquid accumulate at the bottom, and slowly creep it’s way toward the crowd. It didn’t move very fast, but it seemed to be thick. If you can remember what the lava in “Volcano” looked like, as it crept down Wilshire Blvd....just imagine it white.

The white ooze must have had made a dramatic increase in speed (I couldn’t see from the distance, or through the crowd), because the crowd started to walk backwards, and eventually started picking up some pace. This brings us to my favourite part of the story. The foam continued to creep towards the intersection, and probably would have passed by my house, if it weren’t for the following events. The firemen, who until now, had simply stood there in amazement, rushed to the fire truck and 2 men, one from each truck emerged with the ever faithful fire hose. I will never forget the expression of one of the scientists, as he ran towards the firemen, away from the liquid, flailing his arms, with a horrified expression on his face, screaming “Nooooooo!” It was one of those moments that would be in slow motion, if my life were a film. His actions, just like in the movies, were to no avail. The firemen, had ignored him, and had probably thought he was over-reacting, just as I did. We were all dead wrong, and realized what he was screaming about, the instant the water hit the liquid. My jaw dropped, as the inch high liquid, grew into a 5 foot high white foam. The crowd turned and ran. “Attack of the Killer Soda Pop” The foam puffed up like a mushroom, and bubbles starting sailing into the sky. I didn’t notice, but my dad had come outside at some point. He smiled, and said something along the lines of, “I hate to ruin the show, but someone needs to get back to school.” I had completely forgotten, and looked at my Pagemaster watch to see that I had 11 minutes to get to school. I pleaded with him for another 5 minutes to let me stay home, so I could keep watching, but my pleas went unanswered. He told me that the chaos would probably still be there after school, and that I should run home after school to check. I sulked, stamped my foot, whined, but eventually walked backwards to school, in case anything else happened. I remember thinking, I hope the foam will catch fire. I was a weird, pyro kid. I kept walking backwards, until everything was a white blur at the end of my street.

When I got home after school, the fire trucks were gone, the crowd had dispersed, and all that remained were a few patches of foam here and there. The silo still had some liquid on it’s side, and the flashing red lights had been turned off. It was two years later, when I finally discovered that the silo erupted, due to over-pressurization. It took another year to find out that the company, which shut down thereafter, was a producer, and distributor, of a low quality shampoo.