The Partial Observer by Paul Singh

Milford Strong

On Friday, July 18, a fire destroyed the Milford Corner Store, Sybil’s Yarn Shop and two nearby residences. This tragedy has shaken our community in ways that words can hardly express. It has taken so much from so many—leaving behind pain, trauma and a void that can never truly be filled. The buildings may be gone, but what hurts more is the loss of what they meant to the people who lived and gathered there. These weren’t just structures. They were homes, a place to gather.

One man was rescued from his second-floor apartment thanks only to the quick actions of our heroic fire department and a neighbor who realized someone was trapped inside. It’s because of that selfless urgency that he is alive today.

And then there’s Sybil’s Yarn Shop—not just a store, but a beautiful place where people come together, week after week, to share their lives, their stories, and their creativity. I’ve known people who would drive from far away just to spend time there, including someone from North Carolina, who made an annual journey just to be part of that special community. That shop was a thread that wove so many people together.

I stood beside the owner of Sybil’s Yarn Shop as the building burned. When the deck roof collapsed in flames, I was right next to her—it all felt so surreal. She shared with me how many people’s memories were tied to that space. So much love, time and effort had been poured into making it what it was. Many had projects in progress and, for her, it was years of dedication going up in smoke. I didn’t have the right words—nothing felt like enough. I just hugged her and said, “This is the last thing anyone should ever have to witness, watching a place they love so deeply disappear before their eyes.” Sitting beside Jeanetta Osterhoudt afterward, looking at her in silence, I couldn’t begin to understand what was running through her mind. To see something she built with her own hands and heart burn down in front of her—it’s one of the hardest, most heartbreaking things a person can go through.

The corner store, a cornerstone of our village for generations, is now gone. It was more than a place to grab lunch or a sandwich before a baseball game. It was a place filled with memories, laughter and tradition. A place where kids felt safe, where neighbors connected, and where the hardworking business owners poured their hearts into serving our village, day in and day out. That store cannot be replaced—not in spirit, not in heart.

The loss of Celeste and Blaine Joslyn’s home is equally devastating. That house stood for over 200 years—and for the last 33 years, it was filled with the memories of a life they built together. Celeste is one of the most generous, selfless people I’ve ever known. I’ve seen her help so many who were struggling—quietly, without asking for anything in return—and far too often, without being repaid. She gives because that’s who she is. They did not deserve this. No one does. But if anyone can carry this unimaginable burden with grace, it’s them. I have the deepest respect for them both.

July 18th was a heartbreaking day in our village. Yet in the midst of this tragedy, I witnessed courage I will never forget. Our fire department, especially Devin Devlin, Will Smith, Bianca Bello, Harold Couse, Damon West, Tammy Jones, Casey Eckler, Carey Eckler Sutphin, John Ashe, and others, responded with incredible speed and bravery. My liquor store footage shows Devin and Will were the first on the scene, followed by Tammy and Damon. They acted with urgency and compassion, risking their lives to protect ours. I saw the flames leaping high and embers flying over the firehouse. The wind made it so much worse. Even when the communication systems went down, cutting off other responders, our local heroes didn’t waver. I bow my head to them.

There are more heroes we must recognize: Austin Partridge and Seth Edson. Austin’s mom saw the fire and called him right away. Without hesitation, Austin ran to alert neighbors. He knocked on doors, woke people up—including my own tenants, DD Yerdon and Caitlin. He then rushed over to Celeste and Blaine’s home and warned them to evacuate. Seth, too, went door to door, making sure others got out safely. What they did was nothing short of heroic. Because of them, people are alive today.

And DD Yerdon—she didn’t just escape danger herself, she acted. She told the first responders that someone was trapped, and because of her, Zack was rescued. These actions mattered. These actions saved lives.

I am also thankful to our local government officials—Brian Pokorny, Mike Strong and Dave West, who were on-site from the early hours of Friday morning when the fire started and remained through the evening. These are three extremely well-connected individuals who were able to get us access to much-needed resources quickly.

At 2:30 a.m., as I walked through our village, I saw people doing everything they could to save others, without thinking of themselves. Multiple fire companies arrived, and in my eyes, prevented an even greater disaster. It could have been worse. Much worse. But because of these selfless heroes, it wasn’t.

We lost so much that night. Homes, history and the beating heart of what made our village feel like home. But in our loss, we also saw the best of humanity: neighbors looking out for neighbors, strangers becoming heroes, and a community pulling together. When I ran down the street at 2:30 a.m., I couldn’t believe my eyes. In the midst of a surreal site, I saw people trying to rescue others, I saw people I see every day become heroes. Mr. Ashe Sr. was there doing everything he could to help those in need.

On the day of the tragedy, Devin shared a heartfelt memory with me about going into the corner store as a little girl. It reminded me just how deeply connected so many people are to the corner store. Over the years, I’ve heard stories from longtime community members about when the Crowleys owned it, then Keith Velasco, followed by Scott Pickwick, and most recently Laurie Burch. Each chapter brought its own warmth and meaning. It truly was the heart of our neighborhood—a place woven into our lives.

This loss is deeply felt, and the memories made there will always hold a special place in our hearts. To all who acted bravely, to all who stood in harm’s way for the sake of others—I am humbled. I am grateful. I will never forget. We will never forget.

I am in tears as I write this. When I saw the firefighters fight the fire, I felt helpless and was thinking, what I can do to help? It was way too much to watch the cornerstone of your community burn down.

I bow my head to the first responders. We will always be Milford Strong.

Paul Singh is a Milford community member.