A strong layer of smoke covered the grounds on this event. It was a hazy August evening and the threat of danger loomed in the air. Yet people gathered from miles around. Beside us was a field of forest service tents filled with gruff, tired hotshots and firefighters. People swarmed to find a seat in the grass with friends and family in front of the stage that looked almost otherworldly. Behind the set I saw a lone actor in his soldiers uniform, standing there; meditating or praying perhaps. The opening speech began and silence came sweep across the audience as they listened to the cheery excitable words. For a moment it seemed as if suddenly everyone forgot about the ominous billows of smoke flowing from the mountains above us. The play went on and the ladies in their finery came on stage. Then the general and his soldiers with their eloquent speech. Half an hour went by. I looked up, and to my surprise I saw ashen faces lined around the outskirts of the crowd. Firefighters, young and old. Looking like they need nothing more than clean air and a week more of sleep. Yet here they were. Surrounding the event. They looked hungry, but not just for food. They seemed to drink in every passionate word spoken. I even saw a few coal streaked faces light up when the lady was saved by the brave general and his men. Many looked out of place, like they would never be seen in such a setting in their everyday life. Yet the Shakespearian words spoken over the loudspeaker lured them across the grounds and here they were, bursting with a need for a distraction. When it finally came to a close the crowd make their way back to the parking lot and the firefighters headed back to their tents. Back to the dread of the next day and the roaring monster they must fight. Though they seemed lighter and in better spirits than before. Some even smiling and joking with each other. The long elegant literature of times lost, there in their hearts. There to bring light and hope for a new day.