As I was finishing up that post on the Clemens Mansion chapel partial roof collapse, I heard a big ol’ round of fire sirens to the west and south of here. Biiiiig ol’ round of ’em.
Uh, so anyone ever hear a resolution on what happened with those arsons, those eight Blairmont buildings and two collateral buildings that burned in four days? I’d like to know what happened.
I climbed up on my roof to see if I could tell what’s burning right now, to no avail. If I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow morning, I’m betting it wouldn’t be too tricky to figure out: If I were to walk out my front door and just go in a straight line, west along Hebert, I’d probably find it before I’d gone too many blocks.
This might be unrelated to those arsons, and it might not be a Blairmont-owned building that’s burning, but that’s exactly the trick: striking a nice, ongoing, lingering fear into the hearts of neighbors, so they’re never really quite sure if the trouble has disappeared. And hey, with so many forcefully, aggressively neglected buildings around, there’s plenty to worry about.
Methinks I’m going to conclude this blog entry now, because there’s not much I else I can say on the topic in my current state that doesn’t start with the letter “F.” Lots and lots and lots of capital-lettered words starting with the letter “F.” The word I’m thinking of has four letters, but it ain’t fire.