There are many things I associate with the Wizard of Oz.

Most of my childhood memories revolve around this All-American classic film.

At my granny's house, my cousins and I used to watch this movie on repeat.

They even had a special edition VHS tape that had this little booklet attached to the front cover

that had pictures of the actors and details about the

filming, and I flipped through that more times than I could count. We also loved pretending to be

different characters and acting out scenes from the movie or making up scenes on our own. For the

longest time, I was so afraid of Elmira Gulch and every scene that she was in, I would run and hide because I was so

scared of her. As I got older, my love for the Wizard of Oz continued. I started collecting

memorabilia and books and anniversary edition movies. I even convinced my parents to get me my

own Karen Terrier, which is the breed that Toto was. But one of my most

vivid memories of the Wizard of Oz involves a forest fire, one of the scariest times of

year in eastern Kentucky's forest fire season. There were many times growing up that school was

canceled because the fires would be so bad. I remember ash falling from the sky at recess

because every mountain around me was on fire.

One particular season, when I was probably 11 or so, the fires made their way into my holler.

We had seen them on the ridgeline before, but they had never come down to the houses, but this time they had.

You can say what you will about the people that live in the Appalachian Mountains. You can call

us poor. You can call us whatever stereotype you want. But one thing you can't call us is lazy.

Because I remember my elderly grandfather and my dad fighting forest fires alongside trained firefighters

to save his house and mine. There were times the firefighters would walk away because the flames

were too high or too hot, and my puppy and my dad would stay and circle the flames until they were

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