I was pulling out of my apartment complex very early one morning when I saw smoke coming up from the trees across the street. The fire trucks had just arrived and there was a flurry of activity and smoke swirling up from back in the trees of the wooded area. I felt a sense of dread. It was a gut feeling in the pit of my stomach. Onlookers seemed frantic. I feared the worst.
“Children in car…” I heard.
We had pulled over and stopped on the side of the road. I grabbed my friend’s camera off the seat and jumped out quickly. The first shots I took were of a female firefighter coming out of the woods carrying an injured little girl. Another male firefighter came running out of the woods behind her carrying a baby boy limp in his arms. I took pictures as both firefighters tried frantically to resuscitate the boy and save the girl. Both children were dressed in their pajamas.
“STOP TAKING PICTURES!” she screamed at me.