If it were raining fire down upon my home, the first item that I would save is my wife’s jewelery box. There are some expensive items, as well as sentimental pieces in there. We married men all know that rule number one for marital bliss is ‘happy wife, happy life.’

The second item that I would take is my gun safe. It holds my H&K .40 and credentials. Without those items, I can’t make a living. The third item that I would take is my wallet, which gives me access to money for food and such necessities. Reference rule number one above, to understand the full and complete importance of having these items.

The fourth item that I would grab is my girlfriend. Now don’t go getting all tingly in your loafers. That is the nickname that my family gave to my Silverado truck. She is a black beauty, tricked out with roll bars, and red trim. So, I would definitely grab the keys to my ‘girlfriend’. My Silverado is big enough for the family to sleep in if the Fire Department doesn’t arrive in time to save my home.

The fifth and final item that I would rescue is by far the most important. It is my treasure chest. To the common eye it is an old iron box pock-marked by a few dilapidated stickers, with a dent here and there, but to me it is a treasure chest.

Have you ever heard of Pippi Longstocking? When I was a young boy, I loved reading about her adventures. Her father was off fighting pirates and would send her gold coins that she would place in her treasure chest along with all sorts of other souvenirs and memory items.

You see, to her, the gold coins did not represent money. They represented the memory of her father. At a young age, I stole Pippi’s idea. So, let me tell you about my “gold coins”. My chest contains various items, mostly worthless to anyone but me.

There are a lot of neat momentos in there, like the lighter from my first car, my first checkbook, some jewelery that I made in high school, the first item that I brought for kindergarden show-and-tell, and my US Marine Corps bayonet. I would like to take a moment to tell you about some of my more more important treasures. 

I have a small bag of candy from a trip to Mackinac Island, Michigan, that occurred when I was eight. It was the first vacation that I can remember and was a good trip. The island was full of forts, cemeteries, and tales of Indian wars. Just the right combination to stoke the imagination fires of an eight-year-old boy.

Also in the box is an old photo of my father sitting me in his race car with his helmet on. I was four and it was taken a week before he ran out on us for another woman. Haven’t had much of a father since that picture was taken, but that one moment in time is mine. 

I also have a small brown dinosaur with multi-colored stickers on it. Each one represented a book that I had read at the library that summer. The sense of accomplishment that I felt at seven was incredible. I kept the dinosaur because I never wanted to forget what that felt like.

Also in my treasure chest is a fishing hook. I used it on a fishing trip that I took with my maternal grandfather. I also have the watch that he always wore stored in that box, right alongside my paternal grandfather’s high school class ring. Both men were dear to me and have passed.

Another of my special treasures is a photo of my daughter at three-years-old, who is walking in my large shoes. That is a great photo. Along those lines, I have all of the positive pregnancy tests from each of my children in there and some of their baby teeth.  

My box also holds the family diamond. It is about the size of a baseball and has been valued at nearly .30 cents. It is actually a large hexagon shaped crystal that refracts light at different angles. It has a few chips and appears to be nothing of much interest.

It was one of my grandfather’s favorite things and he gave it to my mother at a point in his life when he was contemplating suicide. She in turn, passed it on to me. I guess that makes it a three-generation family heirloom.

Another item is a little stuffed black monkey. My grandmother held it tenderly in her arms when lung cancer stole her last breath. I think that I am saving the monkey for my oldest daughter, once I am ready to part with it. I’m just not quite there yet.

My wedding ring from my first marriage is also in there. It didn’t seem right to throw it out, and I obviously don’t wear it anymore. Yet, at one point in my life it represented hope and the future, as well as failure and defeat.

A more recent addition is a small, seemingly unimportant note from my friend Bob. He shot and killed himself the day after he wrote it to me.

It’s not all bad memories in my treasure chest. I have a little blue piece of lingerie from that time in the Marine Corps when I met . . . well, I think that I will keep that one memory for myself. Don’t wish to make any of my readers blush.

So, you can see that my old iron box is full of memorabilia that would probably be considered a notch above junk to most people, but to me it is a compilation of fifty years of memories, and God willing, will hold many more.

Sometimes, it is important to take a walk through the fading years of our past to remind us of where we came from. So, when the fire comes rushing in, I won’t be worried much about monetary treasures, as I will be about the treasures of the mind. The treasures of memories.

This writing piece isn’t really speculation for me. I survived the Alpine/Pine Valley, California, fire of 2001. I had been working midnight shifts and slept during the day. I was awoken by a sheriff shouting on his bullhorn, “Get out! Get out now! The fire is heading this way! Evacuate immediately.”

When I exited my home, I could see the flames from my front porch racing down the mountainside towards my small mountain community. It looked like a wall of death, belching out plumes of smoke and sparks as it descended towards my house.

I had only seconds to react. I loaded my daughter and sister-in-law into my small silver Ford Mustang. I literally only had time to grab one more thing, and you guessed it, it was my treasure chest full of gold coins. Of course, to most folks it would just look like an old iron box.