Day 2: Gifts and more gifts

Trying to settle in a bit at the hotel the evening of October 7^th.  It was a Tuesday. We had decided I was not going to work until next week. The kids wanted to go back to school tomorrow and we thought it would be better for them to get back into some normalcy. (Although there was a new normal.)  Our friends had called and texted that they needed to stop by the hotel and drop some things off…  I had no idea what that meant.

            First, dinner.  The first of many, many meals to bless us. Then, the bags, baskets, and envelopes.  I could not ever describe to you the feeling of pure emotion. I was choking back tears as we opened envelopes of prayers, well wishes, love and kindness. Some envelopes were just filled with cash. Some with gift-cards for meals and groceries. Some signed from co-workers, some from parents of students I teach now and some from families I taught years ago. Some cards with scriptures. Some with quotes. All in shock that this could even happen, let alone happen to us.

            One basket in particular that was delivered that first night in the hotel was so incredibly helpful.  If you ever know someone that goes through something like this, this would be the best thing to give him or her.  You may think, “These items are so trivial. So simple!” But that is what made them so incredibly valuable to us right away.  It was a small, black plastic laundry basket. Oval-shaped and not that deep. Inside was nail clippers, white socks of all sizes, shampoo & conditioner, a pair of scissors, a package of pens and pencils, make-up remover, a few pairs of gloves, an umbrella, tweezers, a multi-package of toothbrushes and toothpaste, a steno book, a package of candy, a couple hairbrushes, a trial size can of mousse and hairspray, Chapstick, and a few scarves from the Dollar Tree. There were probably more little things I cannot remember, but those items were the things we used IMMEDIATELY. I remember needing those scissors to cut the tags off the new clothes in some of the bags. Even a huge bag from R’s boyfriend’s mom. She had gone to Target and bought clothes for ALL of us. I could not cry anymore. The tears ran out.  All I could think of was THANK GOD. Thank God for keeping us safe. Thank God for bringing us here. Thank God for all these people caring for us instantly.

Day 2: Still a dream. Make a list.

Waking up at my in-laws house is fine. I don’t mind staying with them – after all, they’ve opened their home to us many times over the years as we’ve transitioned from one phase of our family life to another.  But this time it was different. We all woke up with blank stares. Hugging the kids was the only thing that gave me some comfort.  My mother-in-law made some breakfast (best egg taquitos on the planet, by the way).  We put on the same clothes as yesterday. Thank goodness for my MIL’s washer and dryer.
            We went to the store that morning to buy socks and tennis shoes for all of us. Most of that day was spent calling local hotels close to the kids’ schools. We found one with availability for three consecutive days. They were booked for the weekend so we needed to find someplace else to be on that Friday night, but I couldn’t think that far ahead, so we piled into the SUV (least amount of damage car-wise) and we headed to the available hotel to get settled and checked in. We drove by the house on the way…

Blurry... I was crying when I took this. The outside doesn't look bad, huh? Deceiving...

            My phone was blowing up. Texts and phone calls from friends, family members, co-workers and insurance agents streamed in all day long. I’m not going to lie – it was SO overwhelming. I know I didn’t actually need to respond to everyone, but the pressure to do just that was there. Thank God my mom and my friends RT and LF were able to be the filters for me. They would pass on our status and that helped me actually deal with whatever was going on in my face for that minute.  And I felt more comfortable telling them I needed underwear than anyone else! I had a little notebook with me that was filling with lists quickly.  I mean I love lists just as much as the next girl, but this was too many lists!! A list of clothing to buy – for all 5 of us. A list of hotels and their numbers. A list of lesson plans to send to my school for my substitute teacher. A list of toiletries. A list of insurance agents and their phone numbers AND the dates/times they were coming to the house to view damage. A list of prescriptions to get refilled. A list of utility companies to call to shut off services. A list of places to call since we missed 3 appointments in the last 2 days. A list of fire dept. contacts to get the reports to send to insurance companies for house and all three cars… Yes, when people say “the list goes on and on,” they are NOT kidding. I think they were talking about me in particular.
            So we get to the hotel. One room. One bathroom. Two full beds and a pull out loveseat. FIVE people. Yep.  We had to think if it as a mini-vacation.  That’s what I told the kids – “Just pretend we are on a long weekend at the beach. We’ve done this before.”  They did NOT like the analogy. This was NOT a mini-vacation and by no means was I going to relax and read a book by the shore.

Fire photos & video

The view as we stepped out of the ambulance.

The view from the neighbor's house across the street.

Several news stations were there that morning.  Here are two links to their stories.  I must say I was shocked that they were trying to interview us as we watched our home burn.  Complete disregard for our feelings.  No human compassion. Made me sick. Still does.

FOX4NEWS

NBCDFW

Day 1: Afternoon into Evening

The Red Cross left. The fire trucks came back again around 3:30pm and put up another hose. F’s room was still burning or smoldering, I guess. We were able to walk though the house. About a foot of water, insulation, and charred material everywhere. I was really thankful that one of the firefighters was able to go in and find my purse and Husband’s wallet.  Although both items were drenched and completely ruined, I was able to pull out essentials – licenses, credit cards, and a few precious pictures that hadn’t stuck together yet.

            Walking through the house was like a dream. Nothing seemed real. Ceilings fallen. Granite countertop shattered. Windows broken. Loveseat on the kitchen table – crushed. If you looked up, there was no second floor. No roof. Even though much of the flames were contained to the upstairs, once walls and ceilings started to fall – it demolished the bottom floor, too. I killed me that all the kids’ rooms were destroyed.  I will have to post some pictures – words cannot begin to explain what it looked like.  Again, absolutely no words.

            Close to 6pm and we were all beyond exhausted. The neighbors had gone on with their day leaving us hours ago. We had walked through trying to grab the few pictures or items that were not visibly damaged by fire, water, smoke or ash.  Not many things.  But as you will see through this story – it’s not about things. It was the five of us and Husband’s mom & dad standing in front of the house. Do we just leave it? Do we lock the door? Does the front door even close all the way?  I don’t want to stay in a hotel. Finally, my mother-in-law tells us to get in the car and we will go to her house about 40 minutes away. At least for the night until we can get our bearings. We did.

I didn’t sleep at all. I kept hearing the crackling of the fire.  I would drift off to sleep and wake in a panic and scramble to the edge of the bed.  You know when you wake up and you can’t remember where you are? You frantically keep looking around the room trying to retrace the night.  That’s where I was.

Day 1 -- October 6th: Around noon

About this time all three fire departments (our town and two surrounding city fire departments were called to help) were finally winding down and clearing the streets.  It had rained pretty hard for about 30 minutes earlier, but not enough to put out the small fires still going between the brick and the frame of the house.  They said they would have to come back in two hours to check the “smoldering areas.” (It was still burning?  How is that possible?)

I was finally able to reflect on the past 2-3 hours.  The paramedics had checked all 5 of us. I think the 30 minutes inside the ambulance was overwhelming in itself. I couldn’t even remember birthdates or ages.  I was so flustered. S had been on an antibiotic last week recovering from strep. So one of the EMTs said that she would need to follow-up with our pediatrician because she was the one with the most smoke inhalation. We were released from the ambulance and walked out into the bad dream again. I remember standing at the corner looking at the house holding onto R and S. We just stood there holding hands.

Husband was the one dealing with the fire inspectors, arson investigators (I couldn’t wrap my head around someone even thinking it was arson, but I guess that was just his job…) The fire team was trying to figure out a way to get the cars out. They finally went in and searched for the keys in the rubble, pried the garage doors open with the axes and crowbars, and got the cars out. Melted tires, clear coat melted off, scorch marks on the hoods. I just cannot describe it.

Everyone kept asking, “What can we do?” 

“I DON’T KNOW,” was my response. Every time. 

How do you even know where to start with something like this?  People from my school and all the kids’ schools came.  The principals, the counselors, PTA moms and dads… Even a few teachers from surrounding schools drove by to offer kinds words and help. (Even though we had no idea of what kind of help to ask for…)

About this time, the Red Cross had been parked a little way down the street.  The lady in the white vest with the Red Cross insignia had been just patiently waiting in my driveway as the fire trucks were cleaning up.  She finally approached me and I walked with her to her van.  There were two more Red Cross workers there and they offered snacks and Gatorades to the kids. Someone else had ordered pizzas so there was plenty of food for the neighborhood that was banding around us.  Husband was still with the fire fighters and his dad trying to figure out our next steps.

The Red Cross lady (sad, I cannot remember her name) had me fill out a ton of paperwork and gave us a Visa card to buy immediate clothing and food.  They also set up a one-night hotel room for us – I was so thankful, but so incredibly SAD about that.  It was when she had me sign the hotel form is when I realized… We are not sleeping here tonight. Or any night for a long time.  Tears just burst from my eyes and she said she’d give me a minute. She got out of the van and let me cry alone for a while.  I so needed that.

Day 1 – October 6th: Morning

S opened the front door and stepped out onto the brick porch. It was a wall of smoke. You may have heard that expression before, but I had never actually SEEN it. It was a barricade. Apparently, smoke is comprised of tiny particles, ash, liquid, etc. that is denser than air and once the temperature of the smoke reaches the temperature of the outside air it no longer rises. It falls towards the ground. We could not even see the driveway cement. It was that thick. Like a smoke blanket. We were covered in it.

I could hear someone yelling. “Come over here! Hurry! RUN!!! Keep coming, keep coming!” It was our neighbor to the right. He was down by the street. We couldn’t see him, but he was yelling and all I could do was drag the kids and myself towards his voice. We were trying to run – I couldn’t figure out why the kids were stumbling. Oh yeah, they were barefoot. Still in their pajamas. I look back and see Husband finally making it out the front door. A feeling of relief came over me for a split second, and then the panic was back. No fire trucks. I could hear them in the distance but none were there. Why were they taking so long? The roads were empty except for me and my family standing by the street light -- watching our house burn. The kids cried. I was stoic.

This next part is like a dream to me. I remember so many things happening all at once. If you asked any one of us about this particular time period, I think all our stories would be drastically different. All 5 of us were doing different things throughout the rest of the day. I don’t recall being altogether again with just us five except for the trip to the ambulance and then again later that evening. It was such a blur.

The kids and I went across the street to our neighbor’s house; N & G. N was the one that always looked after the house when we went on vacations. She kept our mail and found us a landscaper last summer. We BANGED on their front door. I mean BANGED. All three kids and myself used fists and beat on her door until they opened it. Their faces when they opened the door -- I cannot describe the look of pure shock. She took the kids from me and put them on her couch. By this time another neighbor, whom I didn’t know, came up and gave us some slippers for the kids. And a blanket. S was shaking.

I stepped out onto her porch. My face was hot from the flames across the street as I called my Mom and told her my house was burning down. No words.

The fire trucks arrived. People were everywhere. Police SUVs blocked both entrances to our street. Sirens. Lights. Heat. Crackling sounds in the air mixed with the scent of ash. Still no rain.

I kept getting alerts on my phone – the news crew was already filming and our house was on the 5am morning news. Friends and co-workers were recognizing the house and street on T.V. and calling and texting. The entire morning was like that. I couldn’t even breathe.

Day 1 – October 6th: Early Morning

Even though I woke up with the thunder at about 3:30am, I didn't actually crawl out of bed and put my workout clothes on until closer to 4:15. Husband was still tossing and turning. I think it was the weather. I remember the news saying scattered thunderstorms, but honestly, if you live in Texas – you simply cannot trust the forecast. The thunder continued rumbling. No rain yet. I turned on ESPN and starting riding the stationary bike. The lightning was flashing through the windows, but nothing too startling. Then, about 4:35ish the thunder became stronger. Louder.

One loud BOOM! Deafening. FLASH! Blinding - through the bathroom window.

Husband was in the bathroom. I was pluggin’ away on my cycle watching the baseball highlights of the playoffs. (Kansas City and Detroit weren't doing too badly, by the way.)

“That was pretty close!” said Husband. “You wanna go check on the kids?”

“Yeah.” I climbed off the bike and ran upstairs. (P.S. all lights were still on. T.V. was on. The ADT alarm was blinking red – but didn't think anything of it because storms would sometimes trip it.) S had already climbed in bed with her brother and both of them were snoring. No worries there. As I walked down the short hall to R’s room, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was snoring, too. Simple, stormy, Monday morning, but still no rain yet. I jogged back down to my bedroom.

Husband said the master bathroom lights were out. Probably a tripped breaker. We both walked to the garage, flipped the switch and all was good. I got back on the bike for like 2 minutes and ended my interrupted workout. While Husband was brushing his teeth, I took off my socks & tennis shoes and put on my slides. Something was wrong.

Whoever says that parents don't have some kind of intuition is nuts. Clueless. Ignorant. Parents do. Especially Moms. It’s something in our DNA. We just know.

Husband comes out of the bathroom as I am standing at bedroom door. We both smell it. It’s plastic? Rubber? GO CHECK ON THE KIDS. I run up the stairs and I smell it more. No smoke. But I know something is wrong. I can't focus on what it might be, but I start to panic a little bit as I reach F’s bedroom door. I yell for S and F to wake up and go downstairs. They are sleepily stumbling barefoot to the staircase. As I went down the short hall again to R’s room, I am convinced it’s her flat iron on the carpet or a melting nightlight. I scoured her floor for anything that might be emitting this awful smell. This rubbery, oily scent was permeating my head. I knew something was burning but I couldn’t find it and the feeling of not knowing what it was became overwhelming.

Teenagers can saw some serious logs. R was out. She was not waking up. I climbed in her bed and shook her shoulders for her to wake up completely. I yelled at her to go downstairs with her brother and sister. She was groggy and barefoot, but made it down the stairs to her siblings while I could see Husband trying to get up the stairs. I yelled at him not to come up. (Surely not listening, he kept ascending.) I was following the long hallway to the game room.

The smell was now smoke. I could see it. I looked up and the ceiling was orange.

“FIRE! The ceiling is on fire! Go! Go!”

Husband is behind me now yelling, “Call 911!” I am running to the kids downstairs. Honestly, I had such tunnel vision at that point; I don’t even remember how Husband got himself back down the stairs. I told the kids to move to the door. We could see the fire now – covering the whole upstairs. I grabbed the house phone – DEAD. Mind you, all electricity was still on! Lights in all the rooms – ON! Where was this fire coming from?!? F handed me his cell phone.

I called 911 at 4:58am on October 6, 2014 and screamed that our house was on fire.

Prologue – Flu shot, F’s party, and Facetime

Oct. 3, 4, 5, 2014

My right arm hurt so badly.  I couldn't even think about F’s party the next day.  I remember driving home from work that night and it hurting to move the steering wheel with my right hand. The Band-Aid kept sticking to my shirtsleeve. Sheesh, getting a flu shot was more painful than I thought. Guess that’s why it had been three years since my last one.

The next morning was all about making sure we had the game room and F’s bedroom cleaned for the party that day. I loved the new chestnut colored bedroom set we ordered for him from Sam’s Club for his 13^th birthday, less than a week before.  I was really glad it had been delivered on time.

His friends started arriving around 11am. R’s boyfriend came over, too. I waved to his mom as she dropped him off and backed down the driveway.  We all piled into the garage and climbed into our SUV. Our favorite pizza place was the destination and loved by all (even my parents love to eat there when they visit!). The afternoon was filled with food, fun and chocolate & strawberry cupcakes made by one of our dearest friends. So delicious and so thankful that she made them. It was a great Saturday! And my baby boy was now a teenager…

I think I tried to Facetime my Dad a few times that Sunday.  It was his actual birthday. Even though Dad tells us year after year that he has two birth certificates – one for the 5^th and one for the 6^th, the real day is the 5^th.  I didn't get to talk to him until that evening.  I remember laughing with him for a bit on the phone and wishing him a great birthday. I finished up writing some lesson plans and we kissed the kids goodnight.  I think I slept like a rock that night. Like a baby. Soundly.