Area woman's prayers deep in heart of Texas

Nevada Daily Mail

While the world waits for news of the dead and what could have caused a fertilizer plant to explode, one Nevada resident remembers the small town with European roots and the neighborly people who live there.

"It's one of those very small tight communities, said Lois McMillan, whose family lived near West, Texas, before she and husband, Steve, decided to follow their own roots back to Missouri.

McMillan, business manager for the Nevada Daily Mail, said when she and her husband lived in Texas, a few miles west of Waco, they often frequented West Fraternal, a sort of dance hall that served as a community hub and was popular with locals for weddings, reunions and dances, or similar type activities. With a fondness for country and western dancing, the McMillans were often drawn to West Fraternal, and to the good Czech food.

West has a bakery known for its kolaches, a finger food of Czech origin that consist of a round, long, or even square, dough stuffed with such ingredients as eggs, cheese, sausage, and jalapeņo. Sweet kolaches also exist and come in a variety of flavors like apricot, blueberry, sweet cheese, and poppy seed.

Kolaches are popular with Texans. The website BlackBook list several popular places to find a good kolache, including the Czech Shop in West.

McMillan doesn't know if the Czech Shop or West Fraternal survived the thunderous fertilizer plant explosion that equaled a small earthquake and damaged or destroyed much of the town including dozens of homes, an apartment complex, a school and a nursing home.

The first thing that came to McMillan's mind when she heard of the explosion Wednesday night was that everybody who wasn't injured or wasn't hurt too seriously would be out there helping their neighbors.

"That's what those people do," she said. "(It's) very much small town America."

McMillan, who originally hails from the Kansas City area, moved with her family to Texas when she was in the eighth grade. She later married there and they raised their four children in Texas. Two of their three daughters still live in communities close to Waco and the third lives in Austin. Their son is deceased but his former wife and children live close.

They all are safe, she said.

Her daughter-in-law is a respiratory therapist at Providence Hospital in Waco and a son-in-law is a registered nurse at Scott & White Hospital in Temple, the closest trauma center. Both of those hospitals, plus Hillcrest Baptist Medical Center in Waco and other area hospitals have been treating the injured, now estimated at more than 160.

The Associated Press cited reports of as many as 15 people killed in the explosion and aftermath, but later in the day Thursday, authorities backed away from any estimate and refused to elaborate. More than 160 people were hurt.

A breathtaking band of destruction extended for blocks around the West Fertilizer Co. McMillan said though she had been to West, she doesn't remember the plant.

"I can't say I even knew it was there," she said.

Media outlets have reported similar feelings by others in the area, who apparently had become accustomed to the industry in their back yards. Some speculate that could explain why schools, churches and a nursing home were built so close to the plant.

Thursday afternoon, Waco police Sgt. William Patrick Swanton described ongoing search-and-rescue efforts as "tedious and time-consuming," noting that crews had to shore up much of the wreckage before going in.

There was no indication the blast, which sent up a mushroom-shaped plume of smoke and left behind a crater, was anything other than an industrial accident, he said.

The explosion was apparently touched off by a fire, but according to AP reports, there was no indication what sparked the blaze. The company had been cited by regulators for what appeared to be minor safety and permitting violations over the past decade.

The Wednesday night explosion rained burning embers and debris down on terrified residents. The landscape Thursday was wrapped in acrid smoke and strewn with the shattered remains of buildings, furniture and personal belongings.

Firefighter Darryl Hall choked up as he described the search.

"You're strong through it because that's your job. That's what you've been trained to do. But you're reminded of the tragedy and your family. And that it could be you," Hall said. "Then it's a completely different story."

While the community tended to its deep wounds, investigators awaited clearance to enter the blast zone. for clues to what set off the plant's huge stockpile of volatile chemicals.

"It's still too hot to get in there," said Franceska Perot, a spokeswoman for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, later adding that she wasn't sure when her team would be able to start its investigation.

Volunteer firefighters who initially responded to the fire are believed to be among the dead.

The Dallas Fire-Rescue Department said one of its off-duty firefighters, Capt. Kenny Harris, was among those killed. Harris -- a 52-year-old married father of three grown sons -- lived in West and had decided to lend a hand to the volunteers battling the blaze.

The many injuries included broken bones, cuts and bruises, respiratory problems and minor burns. A few people were reported in intensive care and several more in critical condition.

First-responders evacuated 133 patients from the nursing home, some in wheelchairs. Many were dazed and panicked and did not know what happened.

William Burch and his wife, a retired Air Force nurse, entered the damaged nursing home before first-responders arrived. They searched separate wings and found residents in wheelchairs trapped in their rooms. The halls were dark, and the ceilings had collapsed. Water filled the hallways. Electrical wires hung eerily from the ceilings.

"They had Sheetrock that was on top of them. You had to remove that," Burch said. It was "completely chaotic."

The Associated Press contributed to this report.