16 years ago, part 1

on a Monday, December 2nd just after 5:00pm, my family's home caught fire.

Many of you know the story. We were all home except for my dad, who was working. My mom, sisters, 3 year old brother, and I all made it out of the house unharmed.

My big sister (17) was making soup for us in the kitchen. My younger sister (11) and I (14) were huddled under blankets while lying on the couch watching television. I was holding one of our cats, Libby. My mom was napping upstairs with our other cat, Mittens. My brother was napping in his room.

Our furnace had gone out, and propane heaters were brought inside to help keep us warm. Snow was on the ground outside. We were all huddled under blankets except for my big sis who was cooking.

A family friend had just stopped by to change the propane tank on the heater in the kitchen near the stairs. He was gone now.

I don't remember what I heard. I remember my big sister screaming, and the flickering glow coming from the kitchen. I held onto my cat as my younger sis and I ran into the kitchen. The entire propane tank was a tower of flame and the window curtains were already on fire.

We lived in an old Victorian home that had two sets of stairs, one that came down into the kitchen, and another on the opposite side of the house near the original front door that we never used. It was at this point that I think I remember seeing my mom coming down the kitchen stairs and then running back up them. I'm not sure she could go down those ones because of the flames.

My frightened cat bolted out of my arms and back into the living room. I ran after her, searching under the couches, but I couldn't find her.

Meanwhile, my younger sister had run outside in the snow without shoes to our detached garage. The garage door had been left open, thankfully. She used the phone in there to call 911.

I knew I had to get out of the house (thanks to everything I learned in school through fire drills). I got up off of the floor and ran out the door without my shoes, which were right by the door. As soon as I stepped outside I met my big sister, and I said, "Brandon!" (my brother). I started to go back in. Just then my mom came out the door, carrying Brandon, her purse and car keys.

We all got in our mini-van and drove to our neighbors' home where we would watch for the fire department to come.

At our neighbors' and using their phone, my mom tried to get a hold of my dad. This was before cell phones, and as an electrician, my dad could be anywhere. I'm not sure if she called his company or the site he was at or the Electricians' Union. But eventually, she talked with someone who would try to deliver a message to my dad.

Twenty minutes later. The fire department still hadn't come. We lived on 3 acres of land, but we lived in town, less than a mile from the fire department. My mom called 911 again, and the operator said that they didn't get a good address the first time.

Soon after three large fire trucks barreled into our long horseshoe driveway. One of the trucks got stuck in a snowbank at the end of our driveway.

The firefighters did


nothing


for a while, but waited.


To be continued.




This was probably the most memorable experience of my life outside of my wedding and giving birth to my children.

What's yours?