Gary Culbert was outside when he heard the smoke alarm next door and, minutes later, saw the girl. “She ran out of the house,” he said. “And she asked how to put out a fire in a pot.” This was in the middle of September, before the pain and the scars and the medical bills that have since moved into his life, unexpected and uninvited. He ran to the neighbor’s house, thinking he'd find a small fire, maybe something a little baking soda could handle. “But I walked in and it was, 'Holy smokes, this is no small fire.'” He learned later the girl had been home alone in their neighborhood near 56th and Normal, trying to fry potatoes in oil.