Christmas Tales of Alabama by Kelly Kazek Page B

then relayed the news that there was no way anyone could survive such severe injuries. No one ever had.
    Donna would prove the doctors wrong. Miraculously, she was still alive on December 22. At the time, though, Donna could not know the long and painful recovery that lay ahead.
    What had begun as a fun afternoon with her beloved father had turned into a family’s worst nightmare. On the afternoon of December 21, Donna and her father, John Charles “J.C.” McDowell, the prominent owner of several local textile mills and a friend of Governor John Patterson, went to a fireworks stand to buy sparklers to celebrate Christmas Day. J.C., a dropout and World War II veteran who drove a bread truck, had talked his way into a job running a local mill, gone back for his diploma and then his bachelor’s and master’s degrees and worked hard until he became the owner of five mills. He married Mary Upton, and they had two children, Donna and Larry.
    Donna adored her father.
    Father and daughter arrived at a fireworks stand owned by the husband of a worker in one of J.C.’s mills. It was housed in an abandoned cotton mill warehouse. After entering, little Donna wandered to the bathroom in the back of the building. Suddenly, she heard her father cry out; a massive explosion followed. Windows shattered, firecrackers popped and boomed, like a series of bombs. Flames licked at the walls of the old building. There were no regulations about smoking around explosives, and a cigarette carelessly tossed by the stand’s owner had ignited an inferno.
    Though her father and the owner were near the entrance and were able to exit safely, Donna was trapped. When she heard her father calling her name, the frightened girl walked toward him, not realizing there was any other way to get to him than walking through fire. She made her way through the blaze, feeling as if she were wrapped in God’s arms. As the building became engulfed, an off-duty state trooper saw the fire and stopped to help. A local resident, Johnny Floyd, also arrived at the parking lot. When the men saw the burning child exit the building, Johnny threw his coat over the flames, extinguishing them. The trooper, Captain Southerland, carried Donna to his car, where her father knelt in the back seat and, for the entire ride to Piedmont Hospital, held Donna under her arms so she would not touch the seat. If she had, her blackened skin would have been ripped away.
    Donna never lost consciousness and remained alert at the hospital.
    The next morning, when doctors realized the tenacious little girl might survive her injuries, they knew she needed to be taken to Birmingham, where specialized care could be provided at the University of Alabama hospital. Because Piedmont had no ambulance, doctors called the owner of the local funeral home, who brought the hearse to transport Donna on the hour-and-a-half trip to Birmingham.
    The trip would be dicey. Though the little girl had survived the night, she remained dangerously close to death. No one knew if she could survive the trip. Governor Patterson sent state troopers to escort the hearse and ordered local authorities to turn off all traffic lights along the route so the driver would not be forced to stop. Hospital officials called ahead to the Birmingham staff to let them know to expect a severely injured child. At the time, the hospital’s emergency room was not on the ground level and could only be reached by a single elevator. An emergency crew stood in the hospital’s parking lot.
    Soon, a car carrying an injured boy arrived. He had crashed after making a sled by attaching a stop sign to a roller skate. Emergency workers thought he was the severely injured child they were awaiting and loaded him into the elevator. In an odd twist, the hearse carrying Donna arrived seconds later when the elevator was in use. Doctors flew into action and performed emergency procedures in the parking lot, giving Donna a