Chaos ... the balance between having news and constantly being exhausted

This past weekend started out great. My family had traveled down from the Panhandle to come have a Memorial Day weekend with my mom's best friend and me along with other friends and families. Making my way over after work on Friday to Wolfe City, we settled down, had hugs, a pasta dinner and some conversation. Waking up Saturday we had crepes and got busy making preparations for a shrimp boil. I set my phone down, not really needing it, or wanting to be bothered by it. Picking it back up circa 11 a.m. I saw three missed calls: Adah Leah Wolf (Main Street Manager,) Donna Williams (owner of Red Door Antiques) and Tonya Mercer (a member of our citizens on patrol group.) I knew something was wrong. Like seriously wrong. Investigating further, I started seeing texts, Active 911 alerts and 911 pages of a structure fire in downtown Farmersville. Looking at the pages, I saw there was already multiple departments on scene. It was bad. "I gotta go," I told my family. Everyone in Farmersville has probably joked about downtown catching on fire, or casually said, "Don't call me unless downtown is on fire." I think that phrase will be used a little less from now on. Hoping beyond hope as I made the 45-minute drive in about 25 minutes (Sorry, I don't normally break the law but hey, there are times when it's called for) that the notes were exaggerating how bad it was, I finally crested the curve of the hill on Hwy. 78. I could see the smoke plume. Arriving downtown, I could see the Quint Ladder spraying water. See the fire trucks, the people, the chaos and see part of my beloved downtown in ruins. When I first took this job, I took it because of the downtown, because of the people. That love has only grown since then. Walking quickly towards the scene from the newspaper office, I didn't even hesitate as I ducked under the fire line. Seeing one building completely gone and another on its way down took my breath away. You can tell it by looking at my photos. They seem rushed, chaotic, no clear focus. Later on, I calmed down, but photos often carry with them emotion and mine from early that day were as transparent as glass. In between taking shots and shoving water/Gatorade at fire personnel I witness something extremely special. Community. I saw a newly elected mayor doing her best to provide for firefighters. A city manager who put his public works crews and equipment to work to help out the firefighters. I saw firefighters from seven department work until they were exhausted. Then pick up the hoses and do it all again. And again. And again. I saw community members who honestly probably had never even picked up a fire hose, grab them and help out. Other community members provided water and ice and food. A Citizens on Patrol group that had no formal training jumped in and helped out whenever asked and just acted when not asked. Community ... it takes on a whole different meaning when the heart of your town is at risk. I saw fellow downtown members surround Clay Potter and his wife, Kim, as they waited with baited breath to see if their building would be spared. And when it was, numerous people reaching out to extend a helping hand in the clean up efforts. It goes without saying that I have a healthy respect for firefighters but seeing them work to exhaustion and then keep pushing, I have a whole new respect for them. And for the police officers that were on scene first, evacuated people and got people away from the fire ... the saying that heroes don't wear capes truly applies to those on scene that day. It wasn't until I went back by the downtown Sunday night to take photos that it truly hit me. The emotions of the weekend, really the past few months, just impacted me like a ton of bricks. It is a very fine line between having news and covering the news and being overwhelmed emotionally. Since December, I have covered a tornado with fatalities, a fatality wreck with a firefighter and two kids, a fire truck deciding to literally make itself a new drive thru window at the Dairy Queen, a dead body being disposed of outside Farmersville, a mom and daughter fatality wreck and now the downtown catching on fire. Yes, it's my job to cover these things and I think for the most part our staff has done a good job, but emotionally I can't help but wonder how these things effect us. I find myself shorter in temper that in the past, more easily annoyed and lets not even talk about sleep patterns. Yes, there is most definitely a cost. But being a small town journalist, recording the very history of the community that you love, is an honor. And its a privilege. But the next person who says, "Man it's been quiet around here lately" is getting a pen thrown at them.