At 11:40 on a late autumn day,
Chief Jack Schoffall parked his truck by the hay.
Beside him was Donald, his trusted right hand,
They’d come to assist on this rural farm land.
The farmer named Jeffrey was waving with fear,
Pointing behind him: “The danger is here!”
A thin stream of smoke from a tall barn did rise,
A problem concealed from their searching eyes.
They hurried together, their boots hit the ground,
And reached the tall silo where smoke curled around.
The doors were all blocked, packed solid inside,
The only way in was to climb and to stride.
An eighty-foot ladder stood tall to the top,
Where a window looked down on the smoldering crop.
So Jack and young Jeffrey ascended with care,
While Donald stayed grounded, prepared to repair.
From the top Jack peered in, but the smoke made it hard,
The barn brimmed with clutter, like a hoarder’s yard.
Yet inside a platform of plywood was laid,
A walkway of sorts that the farmer had made.
Jack stepped on the board, it rocked but it held,
He radioed Donald: “The fire’s been smelled.
We’ll climb back down, get equipment, and then
We’ll handle this blaze and be back up again.”
But just as he turned, a low rumble did start,
A shudder that echoed and tightened his heart.
Donald looked upward, expecting them soon,
But silence just lingered beneath the gray plume.
He called on his radio: “Jack, where are you?
You said you’d return, but there’s no sign or clue.”
No answer came back, only dread in his chest,
Protocol stopped him from reckless arrest.
So Donald called backup, the sirens then wailed,
As firefighters, police, and medics all hailed.
They climbed to the window to peer at the scene,
And gasped at the horror of what it had been.
The plywood had shifted, Jack slipped from its crest,
And into the silo’s deep belly he pressed.
For inside that tower, though hidden from sight,
Was grain filled with corn packed heavy and tight.
It swallowed him whole, like quicksand below,
And Jeffrey reached out, but was dragged in the flow.
Both men disappeared in the suffocating sea,
Two lives overtaken by cruel destiny.
For three long hours, machines tore it apart,
The silo collapsed with a bulldozer’s start.
And finally beneath all the kernels of gold,
The bodies of Jack and poor Jeffrey were pulled.
A fire chief’s courage, a farmer’s last stand,
Both taken together by fate’s heavy hand.
And still that grim lesson the rescuers say:
Grain silos can kill in a silent, swift way.