I saw one plastic five gallon can, full of gas, in the middle of the grass fire. I was scared to retrieve it, and scared to leave it. I grabbed it and ran to Tiff's truck through flames, sat it in the back of Tiff's truck. Cranked up that truck (with a flat tire on the rear) and backed it out of the flames. Grabbed a 5 gallon can of diesel near the flames, and a small can of chainsaw gas and got them away from the flames. With all that wind, the fire wasn't losing a bit of time. That is when I noticed my house shoes on fire the first time.
The fire department finally found our house just as we were getting the last of the grass smoulders out. Some wooden pallets with junk iron on them were still burning and I let them douse those but they were out in the middle of the now extinguished grass fire.
Bad thing is the fire was my fault. I had dumped a can of ashes from the fire place several hours before. There must have been embers in the ashes. No grass where I dumped them but somehow, some way, grass not too far away got ignited. From now on I will drench the ashes no matter how old they are - and I'll eat me some black eyed peas on NYD.