She stood outside and watched, numb with disbelief.

And Ann Nelson — whose name is still synonymous with the Bunch of Grapes Bookstore even though she turned ownership of the store over to her son Jon three years ago (she stills owns the building) — wanted to go inside.

“Jon was going to Texas for awhile and he asked me if I would assume responsibility for his financials. I of course said yes. Jon’s crew was there first [that morning] and one of his employees called me and said, ‘We have to evacuate the building.’ I came right down.”

And as she watched Café Moxie burn and smoke pour out of the bookstore windows, she wanted to go inside.

She looked around and saw Tisbury fire chief John Schilling.

“I told John that I wanted to go inside and he looked at my feet,” she recalled over the telephone on Sunday afternoon.

“I was wearing sandals, and he said, ‘You have the wrong shoes.’ Then he called out to his firemen and said — ‘Which fireman has a size eight!’ One came up and said ‘I do.’ He took off his boots. I put them on. And then he said, ‘This is your jacket.’” She continued:

“I told John that my son had left me in charge of the finances while he was away and I needed to secure the main frames for the business.

“John said, I’m going to take you into the building, here is your flashlight. And when I walked into the building wearing that heavy fireman’s suit — so heavy and they wear it all day! — I cannot tell you, the flashbacks of 35 years. And I cannot adequately describe the heat. It was like you were at a barbecue and someone had lit the briquettes right under you. It was so hot, the ceiling had melted. I walked into inches of muck and water and tears began rolling down my cheeks. He led me upstairs. Every bookshelf was blackened. They had tried to tarp off the little third-floor place that used to be my office. I needed to get the guts of the operation, for insurance purposes.

“By this time tears were running down my cheeks so fast . . . I said, this is what I need, this is what I need. I took the cash drawers, took them down to where a police car was waiting. I tell you, to be in that outfit, just for the short time that I was, I cannot imagine . . . these people I knew, wearing these uniforms for hours . . . I literally thought that I might perish.”

Mrs. Nelson spent the entire day Friday on Main street outside the bookstore that she had built into national recognition over 35 years.

“I watched the fire all day long and they put me in the uniform so I could go inside the building . . . and then I really appreciated what a job they do,” she said, adding:

“They kept coming up to me and speaking to me and I was so appreciative. Every fireman I knew. If I had to say one thing, people talk about regionalization and this was three towns together — Oak Bluffs, Tisbury and Edgartown. You talk about whether you have any doubt about the value of a hook and ladder truck — the hook and ladder truck came to try and save my building.

“I cannot tell you . . . I walked down the street and people would come up to me and stick their hands in my pockets, they didn’t even know me and they were giving me slips of paper with their phone numbers and asking if there was anything they could do. The outpouring . . . I hope John Schilling receives the same outpouring.”

When she returned home on Friday there were messages, many of them from authors all around the country and on the Vineyard. One was from the West Tisbury historian David McCullough. He said, “If Annie needs anything, I am here.”

She credited Donald DeSorcy, her Vineyard Haven builder, for leaving her with a sound building that withstood the fire. “My building is standing today because of him . . . if you could look inside of the building you would see little pigeon holes up and down the wall; the purpose of those holes was in case there was ever a fire, it would slow it down. I tried to call him and couldn’t reach him,” she said.

“Donald DeSorcy, you are the reason my building is standing today, the only reason. If you look inside my building you will see the steel lally columns, that is a Donald DeSorcy signature.”

She concluded:

“You talk about regionalization, you talk about the Fourth of July, there were almost no fire engines in the Fourth of July parade. They were at my building. This is regionalization at its finest.

“I know them all, I knew every firefighter that was there. I cannot tell you what that meant to me. I cannot tell you what I felt. It was such a flood of emotions.”