one diesel tank that was not burning and taking a fire axe knocked a large hole in the tank so it could burn freely, preventing further destruction.
  The fire eventually destroyed a small community church next door.  A young fellow who went against advice in trying to help was seriously burned by the out of control fire.  The fuel was soon dammed at the culvert and the flames subdued on site.  The fire department was an all voluntary service and with all their efforts could not put out the fire.  So they let it burn itself out. The fire eventually burned for about four or five days -- day and night.
  How exciting it was for all of us kids.  After school we rode our bikes over to the fire.  Later in the evening I picked up my girl friend Joann, who lived three blocks away, and a bunch of us went over to watch the fire at night.  A sight I'll never forget, as the fire was lighting up the whole city of El Cajon.  Many others were standing around together talking and wondering if they would ever put the fire out.
  In those days there was a lot to be learned about safety, especially when it came to handling fuels such as gasoline or diesel fuel  in tanks.  This fire was caused by the unloader of the fuel delivery truck.  All went well until his truck was empty.  He disconnected the hose, and as he was loading the hose into the hose container, the opposite end with a steel nozzle was dragging  on the pavement as fuel spilled out creating a spark and . . . poof, a tiny spark flamed the whole inferno.
  Thank God no one had life threatening injuries.  It was a fire that many of us would ever forget. Especially Bessie and her family as they knew their dad's gas station was aflame.  Thank you Bessie Langley for re-living that experience with me.

  It was a typical spring afternoon, with the birds singing and chirping in the palm trees at the El Cajon Valley Grammar School.  It was a nice spot among those palm trees, real nice and cool.  Everyone liked this time of year at school because of the fun school dances we had back in the 40s.  The year was 1947 and the City was in the planning stage of the first Mother Goose Parade.
  Suddenly, a very loud poof!  The late afternoon was shattered by an extremely dangerous fire just on the outskirts of town. I n those days the easterly edge of the town of El Cajon was on the corner of Taft and Main Street.  There were a few shops at Mollison and Main, but that was the extreme edge of town and there were no bus lines except for the Greyhound Bus that was either going to or coming from Yuma or El Centro.
  Not long after the fire had started, Bessie Langley, her two sisters Mary and Dubby and her brother-in-law George were just arriving back into El Cajon after an arduous road trip into San Diego.  They entered  the pass into El Cajon at Grossmont in their old four-door Chrysler. Bessie yelled out, "Good Heavens, dad's place is on fire." They could see clearly the large fuel tanks behind their dad's old gas station on the corner of Main Street and Taft were in a huge ball of flames and thunderous looking black smoke billowing high into the sky.
  Fearing for their dad's safety they raced to the Mobile Station to discover he was OK.  There were flames all about and a disaster looming from the gasoline that was spilling into a drainage canal that run across the road towards the old W. D. Hall Lumber and Milling Yard.
  Their Dad Earl Langley knew that if he didn't cut a hole in the top of the diesel tank it would eventually explode and cause considerable more damage than what was already involved.  So, he grabbed a ladder, climbed the