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The second fire that left its mark upon my boyhood memories took place approximately ten years after the big fire and on that occasion my dad's store did actually burn.
It was in the spring of the year, the exact date I have forgotten, and it started shortly after midnight on the second floor of the the two-story building. We never knew what caused it. Since it burned through the ceiling of the first floor directly opposite the chimney where the pot-bellied stove was located, we envisioned the chimney as being the cause, but as I recall, my dad ruled out that possibility on the theory that he had not had a fire in the stove that day and did not believe that it could have smouldered for a day or two before igniting. I think that he believed that arson was the cause of the fire.
Someone traveling west on the causeway between Denton and West Denton spotted the fire apparently shortly after it started and turned in the alarm. By that time, Denton had a new Seagrave fire engine, an early model of the more sophisticated ones today, and a volunteer fire department that had already won awards up and down the Eastern Shore. They were on the job promptly. They parked on the river bank across from our home, placed the suction hose in the river, and sprayed several streams of water on the store.
Someone had awakened my dad and he was promptly on the scene removing his records. I, too, was awakened, looked out the window, and promptly got back in bed and pulled the covers over my head. I was in high school by this time and this kind of reaction on my part was inexcusable. Somehow, I could not bring myself to accept the fact that our store was on fire, nor to get out of bed and go help my dad. Finally, my mother shamed me into getting up and going to help.
Upon my arrival at the front of the store, I found that my dad and others had removed his records and some equipment and merchandise near the front of the store. It was too risky to try to remove very much of the merchandise.
The fire company soon had the fire under control. The final result was that the upper story and roof were burned, a section about two feet wide across the first floor ceiling in front of the chimney had burned through, and the roof of the warehouse was badly damaged. The contents of the store and warehouse were also badly damaged from smoke, burning coals, and water. The large front glass windows were destroyed.
The next day the front of the store was boarded up for the insurance company's inspection. Within a day or two my dad had decided to have a fire sale and to rebuild the store. The Knotts store was vacant at the time due to the death of Mr. Knotts, and Dad was able to rent that space. He moved the salvageable contents across the street and for several weeks we had a fire sale.
New merchandise was gradually added in preparation for the opening of the remodeled store. Dad contracted with Charlie Taylor to rebuild the burned building. Since the first floor structure had been badly damaged, a new building was designed using this much of the old building and the foundation. The burnt embers and remains on the floor of the second story were shoveled to the rear and into the river, and the ceiling of the first story was cleaned up and repaired. This time a second story was not added. Instead, a hip roof was attached to the old first story and the front of the hip roof was extended six to eight feet beyond the front of the building, making a cover for the front porch and gasoline pumps. Likewise, the warehouse roof was repaired or replaced where necessary.
After construction was completed and the buildingpainted inside and out, the result was a new store. For several years, in this new setting, my dad's business was good, but it never reached the peak of a few previous years. Then the Depression hit, as well as the competition from the chain stores sweeping the country. The other independent merchants adjusted prices and methods to compete with these chain stores but my dad was steadfast in his resolve to do business just as he had in the past. All of these factors finally led to his closing the store around the mid-'30s.
For me, these two fires were major unhappy experiences in what otherwise was a good and profitable boyhood. For my father, the second fire must have also been the beginning of the unhappy ending of a career that had been good to him. However, I believe that my dad could have adjusted to these adverse conditions just as many others did, but I hesitate to be critical of him because he also suffered from health problems. He found his limitations very difficult to cope with, and I also know that he felt that he lacked the funds needed forthe proper medical advice and treatment. He really should have lived longer than he did.
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