Excerpts from the ChicagoTribune.com:

My deepest thanks to Naperville Fire Department Engine 3, paramedics and Naperville police for keeping me from dying Wednesday. Here’s what happened:

I had opened a fresh jug of ammonia for the mop bucket so I could clean the basement floor before carpet-laying. But my work shoes grabbed the tiles and the ammonia went flying. A half gallon poured out, creating a causic fog so dense I could barely see. I staggered for the stairs and pulled myself up by the railings. I gasped one breath and it burned. Finally I reached the top, slammed the door shut and called 911.

As directed, I staggered outside to wait in fresh air. My legs were so rubbery I had to sit on the concrete porch. A few minutes later, the boys of Engine 3 appeared. They checked me immediately.

In the ER, my blood oxygen had dropped to 90 percent from its normal 99, but the doctor assured it would come back. It did. After an hour I was released, feeling fine. I decided to walk the 2.5 miles home. The fresh air did me good. On the way, I pondered just how I was going to manage to clean up that giant mess all by myself.

That’s the first part of why I’m writing this note of thanks. When I arrived, I found the door locked, as the lieutenant promised when I left. But I found more. My floor mop was rinsed and on the front porch. My mop bucket was rinsed and inside the garage. I walked into the house, and anything they’d disturbed getting in and out of the basement was neatly put back.

I cautiously sniffed around – not a single molecule of ammonia scent. I went down the stairs … and to my amazement, they’d cleaned up the entire mess, every single drop, and the floor was bone dry. That is the very definition of absolute professionalism.

Here’s the second part of why I’m writing this note of thanks. Wednesday evening, the door bell rang. I answered. The crew of Engine 3 was on my porch. Astonished, I asked them inside. They said no thanks, they just decided to stop by and see how I was doing.

The lieutenant, first on the scene that morning, said he and his crew went through a tank and a half of full-respirator air each cleaning up the spill because it was so vicious. They believed the undiluted ammonia reacted badly with the 1965-era linoleum tiles, or with the glue holding them to the floor, to create the caustic fog I saw because plain hardware store ammonia isn’t normally that reactive.

I thanked them profusely for staying around to clean up my mess. They waved off the thanks, shook my hand, said they were glad I was OK. “This sure was one of the more interesting calls we’ve gotten in a while,” the lieutenant said.

Bless all firefighters, paramedics and police officers everywhere. But particularly bless … the boys of Engine 3.

thanks Dan