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November 5: Gratitude for Our Ability to Play with Fire

Today, I’m thankful for our willingness to play with fire.

Is there anything more amazing than sitting curled up in the living room on a frigid snowy day, reading an exciting novel or conquering the New York Times crossword puzzle, while a hearty flame blazes in the fireplace? Or sitting on the deck enjoying a stupendous sunset as s’mores are roasted among a sea of embers? Or enjoying a cocktail in the company of your neighbors during the pandemic, each 6 feet apart and separated by a comforting fire pit in between? Oxygen is the one essential element that gives us life. Yet, it’s ability to ignite certain matter through the exothermic process known as combustion is probably the one phenomenon that allowed humans to progress up the food chain. In other words, oxidation not only allows us to survive, but it also permits us to thrive.

Let me take a moment to explain.

Sometime around a million years ago, our ancestors realized that fire was not some supernatural phenomenon to be avoided. Instead, as humans ventured close to the flame, they began to harness natural fires for a variety of means. However, another 600,000 years would pass before our ancestors’ offspring would determine how to harness a flame at any time, with the support of wood and a man-made spark. In turn, humans could set aflame a smaller version of fire in their own hearths, from which they could then generate heat, cook food, and develop tools. From that point on, our evolution as a species was dependent on our capacity to utilize fire to our advantage.

Without fire, humans would probably have never migrated around the globe. Although our first ancestors lived in the heart of Africa for many millennia, our ability to use tools to make a fire at our own volition meant we could venture out of Africa and migrate to five other continents. Fire would not only serve as a critical heat source in colder climates, but we would use it to thaw frozen meat whenever we so chose to do so. All the while, as we migrated to the nether regions of the Earth, fire would be our protectorate against other carnivores wishing to make a meal of us.

Without fire, humans would probably have never been able to cultivate the forests and turn them into farms. Agriculture would never have materialized without the use of fire. The use of ‘controlled burns’ allowed for the removal of unwanted bushes, tree stumps, and natural predators, while at the same time providing nutrient-rich ash to fertilize the soil.

Without fire, our most important organ – the brain – might never have reached its full potential. Our ability to cook meat for more facile consumption allowed us to spend less time each day wasting calories gnawing away at tough muscle and bone of some mammoth. In turn, those untapped calories could be utilized to nourish our growing cerebrums. As our brains grew, we learned how to use fire in new ways as part of the Scientific Revolution. We would learn how to harness a flame to pasteurize our liquids to prevent them from spoilage. We would learn to use the light of the flame from gas-emitted lamps to illuminate our villages, towns, and cities. We would learn to use the heat from fire to propel our trains, boats, and other vehicles of transport. We would learn to employ fire to perform experiments to help us better comprehend the intricacies of the natural sciences. Finally, we would even learn to use a flame together with gunpowder to remove large obstacles in our path as our urban environments expanded.

Speaking of gunpowder, I’m reminded of a story where a few rogue characters tried to use fire in a rather nefarious (some might say flagrant) way. In 1605, a heinous legion of 13 English rebels had grown discontent with the rule of the British monarchy, under King James I. So, they plotted to murder the monarch and a large cadre of the House of Lords by igniting a massive explosion within Parliament. Over a few months’ time leading up to early November of that year, these 13 insurgents clandestinely gathered more than 35 barrels of gunpowder and strategically hid them within the cellar of the Old Palace of Westminster, immediately below the House of Lords. The intent of these subversive terrorists was to ignite the gunpowder on this day (Nov 5) a few minutes after King James had arrived. However, the mutinous plot was revealed after one of the anarchists, who developed cold feet regarding the ensuing act of treason, sent a letter a friend in the House of Lords, urging him to stay away from Parliament on November 5. Well, the letter found its way into the monarch’s hands, and a diligent search of the Parliament premises that morning revealed the barrels of gunpowder hidden underneath massive piles of firewood and coal. Within the cellar, they also found one of the plotters, a man named Guy Fawkes, who was arrested and brutally tortured until he confessed the names of the other 12 mutineers. That evening, Brits took to the street to celebrate the thwarting of this attempted assassination plot, lighting large bonfires to celebrate the escape of the King. The 13 plotters were all expeditiously convicted of high treason and executed.

So, how do the British celebrate the foiling of the now-famous Gunpowder Plot?

Well, each year on this day, they celebrate Guy Fawkes Night by burning massive bonfires and igniting firework displays in celebration of the perseverance of the English Monarchy. In fact, local bonfire societies throughout the island nation have sprouted to ensure the festivities reach their maximal potential. So on this night that my British chaps celebrate by lighting pyres throughout England, let’s take a moment to pay homage to the power of the flame.

Fire has ignited humanity since the beginning of time. May that eternal flame stay lit for another million years, even after we all go up in smoke.



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