At 5:00 on April 16th, the boys and I headed inside after a few hours of backyard bug exploration. Spring had finally arrived, and we still felt the warmth of the sun on our skin. Jamin and Travis played dinosaurs as I started dinner.
At 5:02, Libby woke up from her evening nap. I put her on the family room floor to sit with her brothers while I got back to cooking. Wanting to enjoy the beautiful spring day just a bit longer, I opened the kitchen window.
At 5:03, I caught a whiff of smoke in the air and quickly brushed it off as a neighbor's burn pile. There had been several that week.
At 5:04, one of the kids said something to catch my attention. The family room's air was tinged with smoke. Lingering my gaze for a moment, I noticed that the smoke seemed unusually strong for a burn pile. Maybe we should say something to that neighbor once dinner is finished. As I turned back to the kitchen, the house rattled with a roaring BOOM and then a CRASH.
I ran outside. Flames and smoke barreled through the garage window. Immediately, I rushed back inside to our bedroom to alert Scott, who was sleeping in preparation for his graveyard shift that night. As Scott assessed the damage, I grabbed the kids and hurried to the end of the driveway to call 911.
At 5:06, our smoke detectors began to ring. The first fire truck screamed down the street a moment later. In just six minutes, life had changed drastically.
The next five hours blurred together as family, friends, and neighbors gathered to help. The kids and I stayed next door while Scott fielded the fire team and nonstop phone calls (including calls to Janine and Paul, who were in Phoenix for a wedding).
Initially, we ignorantly assumed we'd be back home later that night. Walking through for the first time provided a sharp reality check: our flashlights revealed a peek of the extensive smoke and water damage that would eventually result in cataloging all of our belongings before shipping them to either the dump or the cleaners'. And the smell was indescribable. Thick, caustic smoke that choked the lungs at first breath.
Still, we are grateful.
Grateful that the damage wasn't greater. The fire itself (which was started by the turtles' heating lamp switch) was contained to the garage. We were told that five more minutes likely would have spread the fire to the rest of the house.
Grateful for everyone who has been of assistance to us at this time. Seriously, we have an amazing community and feel blessed to have such incredible people in our lives.
And, most of all, grateful that we're all okay. Though the majority of our stuff will end up in the trash, it is just that: stuff. As I mentioned earlier, Scott was asleep in the master bedroom when the fire began. He has slept through smoke alarms before. And, due to the vent system, the master bedroom was the most smoke-filled room in the actual house. Had I gone on a walk before cooking dinner as I had considered, there's a good chance he wouldn't have survived. So yeah... we're grateful.
