Dawayne’s Fire

Dawayne is a little different than his siblings. He came into our life when he was in third grade, so he was less “formed” than his older brothers and sister. As he grew into the young man he is now, we were more formative in his development. He always wanted to know the most about us and be the most like us. All our kids love us, but Dawayne certainly wanted to emulate us more than his older siblings. My biggest pleasure in life was sharing an interest with him or teaching him about the world around him.

In the summer of 2015 we spent one week with my family at Little Glen Lake and Sleeping Bear Dunes in Northern Michigan. We had a nice house on a lake, and the highlight for me was the fire pit in the backyard. Sitting around a fire with people I love is one of my favorite activities. This was one classic summer vacation activity that I wanted to share with the kids.  On the first day at the house, I went out with my dad and got plenty of fire supplies to last us the week. It took a few days to get the timing for the fire right. The sun goes down late in Northern Michigan in late June. It didn’t get dark until about 10:30pm, so the first couple nights we waited until it was too late. I determined that 8:00pm was the perfect fire time.

8:00pm came the next day and I definitely knew it because Dawayne was keeping track. As I walked to the fire, Dawayne came with me. I did as I always had when he was in my class as my student, or when he didn’t understand why a whistle blew in the hockey game I was watching, or why Cory and Shawn made the specific choices they did when getting out of a bind in Boy Meets World, or when he didn’t know what to say to the girl he liked in class… I just started teaching Dawayne, talking him through it step by step. “You have to make sure you stack the big pieces of wood in a way that leaves room underneath for oxygen to get in,” I said before I explained what he should look for in the nearby woods to use as kindling. Then I showed him where to put the kindling and newspaper before we got the lighter. I found a strong branch to be my fire poker for the night and described why I might move some wood around as we all sat around laughing and talking. Throughout this process, I explained the responsibility of making a fire and the safety steps one should take to ensure this was an enjoyable experience for us and the environment.

The next night, fire time came and again Dawayne was ready. This time we started the fire together as I had him explain to me the steps and why we did each step. In no time, we again were enjoying a beautiful night around a fire. I told him that the last night we were there he was ready to be in charge of the fire himself. At 7:00pm, he was to start and maintain the fire for everyone. And I then handed him my fire poking stick. I had never seen him take any responsibility so seriously before. He was excited and happy, but he did not crack a smile because he wanted it to be known that he was not going to joke about the fire.

Around noon the next day – 7 hours before fire time – as I was moving about between the kitchen and the lake, I watched Dawayne go into the woods to find nice, dry kindling. He would find a handful and then bring it to a collection he was making next to the fire pit. He went through the house to find some newspaper and brought that outside. He retrieved what was left of the firewood and made sure that was close by the pit. Everything was set, and with only six and a half hours to spare. As everyone was swimming, relaxing, kayaking, paddle boarding, and playing catch, Dawayne was never venturing far. He would often return to the chairs around the fire to sit with the fire poker in his hand, just surveying things, and then return to the activities the rest of us were enjoying.

Finally the minutes were ticking closer to 7:00. To Dawayne, it looked like every minute was an hour and he could focus on nothing else. 6:00 passed and 6:30 came closer. Then for the first time all week, clouds covered the sky. 6:40 came and the clouds brought a drizzle. As 7:00 neared, the rain got harder and my heart was sinking for Dawayne. He was so excited and now the weather was ruining everything. I started to get mad at myself for not letting him start the fire earlier. I was standing at the window staring as the rain came down on all his supplies and frantically coming up with plan B, C, D, E, and F to salvage this 11 year old’s broken heart.

Then the clock turned to 7:00 and I was ready to leap into action. But before I could do anything, Dawayne opened the door and walked out into the rain. It was steady but not super heavy. He walked up to the fire and picked up the poker. He picked up the big logs and stacked them. He took the kindling he had found and put it with some new dry paper he had found inside. He ran into the woods and found some drier kindling than the pieces he had left out earlier and added that to what he had already set up. He pulled out the lighter, never flinching a second by the light rain coming down on him, and held it to the fire.

I stood, a statue from the window, watching all of this. At first I was in disbelief, but that quickly subsided and the feeling was replaced with pride. Pride filled every ounce of my being and, as he held that lighter to the newspaper, I held my breath. I was waiting for it to light. The newspaper caught. I took one breath. I waited. Waiting for anything else to catch along with it. The heat with the damp materials caused smoke to fill the backyard. Dawayne crouched patiently with the lighter in one hand and the fire poker in the other. We both waited. Then his determination paid off. The newspaper lit the kindling and a decent fire had started below the logs. Then the logs started to catch. Sure the materials were a little damp and the rain was still softly coming down, but he had prepared his fire with all the tips I had given him, and he stuck with it.

He rose from his crouch and found a chair around the fire. He just sat there with the poker in his hand and stared proudly at his fire. As I continued to watch from afar and give him the space to enjoy his own work, I just was overcome with pride that he never doubted himself for one moment. He was completely sure of what he wanted and what he was going to accomplish. Eventually the drizzle stopped and we all came out to admire his work and enjoy each other’s company on our final night together. He maintained the fire all night through the stories, laughter, and s’mores. And I waited for him at the end of the night as he dispersed the final embers around the pit and poured a bucket over them. I put my arm around him and attempted to tussle his mini-fro as we walked in the house, and I got choked up as I told him “Nice work. I’m really proud of you. Love you, bud.”