For most of my life people have told me that I’m “creative”.  Over those many years, I’ve come to realize that this specific trait was undoubtedly inherited from my father.  His side of the family is well known for their unusual creativity as well as an uncanny sense of style.  My grandmother, (disclaimer: she was as sweet as anyone could possibly be) made planters out of coffee and soup cans covered in plaster of Paris.  They were of rough texture and painted brown to resemble a log and often decorated with a ceramic squirrel or rabbit.  I remember my father once gave her a table lamp made from blue marbles and popsicle sticks.  It was a one-of-a-kind Christmas gift and she adored it! Anyway...

    When I was about ten, my uncle made a unique barbecue grill from an old refrigerator.  He had removed the crisper drawers and the freezer from the inside but left a couple of the wire racks.  He cut a hole in the back and installed a vent pipe off of an old water heater for a chimney. I would guess the compressor and coils were disposed of as well, but I’m wouldn’t bet on it since it wasn’t really a requirement, only extra work.  My uncle bragged to my father how well it cooked steaks and such.  My uncle and father are butchers by trade (or as they’ve always referred to themselves, “meat cutters”) so a properly cooked steak is vital to good nutrition in our family.

    The next week my father started construction of his own refrig-a-grill.  As luck would have it, we happened to have an old refrigerator behind the house.  Our refrig-a-grill was a little smaller than my uncle’s and unbeknownst to my father, had another difference or two that would soon become apparent.

    I believe it was a Friday night when we fired it up for the first time.  The refrig-a-grill was placed outside at the far end of the house where we had enclosed a screen porch.  The outer walls were raw plywood and hadn’t “seasoned” long enough for the first coat of paint.  (In case you’re interested, it takes four or five years after you do any remodeling before you should paint it.  That’s a family secret.)  It was visible from the road so passersby could see firsthand the ingenuity and resourcefulness that was a part of our proud heritage.  My father placed a charcoal bucket (a steel coated ceramic bucket that people used before barbeque grills were common) in the bottom of the refrig-a-grill and got the coals started.  He left the door open and after twenty minutes or so there was a bucket of glowing embers begging for some T-bones.  He slapped some steaks on the wire rack, closed the door and we went inside to pass the time while our meal was cooking to perfection.

    We had only been inside for a few minutes when there was a knock on the front door.  A very nice gentleman had stopped by to advise us that our house was on fire.  We ran out the back door and around to the end of the house where flames were leaping five or six feet above the refrig-a-grill, licking the unpainted plywood siding.  Grabbing the garden hose and throwing open the refrig-a-grill door, my father fought the flames for what seemed an eternity.

    When the fire was extinguished, several important design considerations were noted for future use.  1)  Never use a refrigerator with a plastic interior, 2) Remove all flammable insulation, 3) Test experimental grills using cheaper cuts of meat, and 4) Prototypical grills should be placed at least three feet away from the house during testing.