The Fire

I decided to start blogging so those who want to know what is going on with us can keep up and those who don't want an email the length of "War and Peace" don't have to be subjected to this stuff.

For those who don't know the whole story of our fire. Here is what happened. I feel like this is more therapy for me than an actual update. I just need to put it into writing once and be done with it. It is time for me to 'get over it' and move on.

Last year my husband Mark and I purchased the 'family farm'. His 94 year old grandfather passed away and his dying wish was that someone would purchase the farm and keep it in the family. We prayed about it and both just felt it was 'right' because his aging parents own the adjoining farm and we would be close enough to help them out. They are both battling cancer and have reached that point that happens sometimes where they don't make good medical decisions. Funny thing is, this family fought me tooth and nail when I wanted to become an EMT because that was just not 'feminine' enough (oh, but hand me a pitch fork and a pile of cow poopy and THAT is acceptable! LOL) but now, my medical training is paying off BIG TIME. So, we had to go through a ton of red tape to get a home equity loan on our home to buy the farm. It worked out so we figured that was what was meant to be.

In October we moved a few things and started staying at the farm most of the time. It is about a mile away on the next ridge from our home. The home we were leaving was a beautiful glass-front 2 story A-frame. Everyone except family thought we were nuts because the farm house, to put it very kindly, is a real fixer-upper. But let me tell y'all it has character. This house was built well over a hundred years ago and started out as the Parsonage for a church not far from here (which ironically was burned down by arsonists several years ago). My husbands family has lived here for about 75 years. Generations of this family have been born and quite a few have died right here in this house. My son was afraid it would be 'creepy' to live here and only now will I admit I wondered about that too....but it isn't. I feel the love and protection of generations of Holderbys in every room. Our first night here was October 10th....my and Mark's 18th anniversary. We felt at home from that moment.

Because I have a serious back injury that very much limits my activities, we would bring a small box or two of things from the A-frame every couple of days. I baby-sit for Mark's cousins little newborn baby (5 months now and the love of my life!) and while she napped I would put away a few things. This is a MUCH smaller house so we brought things we really needed and figured after Christmas we would either rent a storage unit or possibly store the majority of our things in the garage and barn here (HUGE barn, no leaks....I could live in that barn!). So, Mark and I slept on an old bed that Granddad had been sleeping on, we brought the kids' beds and a few pots, pans, dishes, a TV and the couch and love seat. It was sparse but we thought that would make Christmas a little easier. To go from a huge home to a tiny one takes some planning. We were at the A-frame literally every day, anytime we needed a pair of shoes or a jacket that was over there, we'd take a 5 minute trip and bring it back. That is why nearly everything we owned was over there and not here even though this is where we were staying. I hadn't brought my wedding dress, my huge cherry hope chest full of wedding china and stuff, my baby books, wedding albums, wedding and birth videos and literally every picture I had ever taken of my children. If I had only known that last trip would have been my last trip I would have grabbed things more precious to me than a darn dress and shoes. Sigh.

So, Dec. 27 at 4:12 a.m. my neighbor of 18 years calls and yells "ANGI, THE HOUSE IS ON 'FAR'! CALL THE 'FAR' DEPARTMENT!!!" My brain was screaming "get the kids out" when I woke up enough to realize who it was and which house it was. I said "The A-Frame?" and she said "YES! CALL THE 'FAR' DEPARTMENT NOW!" Every single person I tell that to immediately says "Why didn't she call the 'far' department and THEN call you?" Your guess is as good as mine.

So, I quickly call 9-1-1 while my husband was getting dressed and trying to get his contacts in. He can't see further than 6 inches without them. Fortunately, I got a dispatcher who was a paramedic I used to work with. I told him what was going on and he said he would take care of it. I had on jammies and just had to grab shoes. I was out the door and almost out to the barn where we keep the truck when I looked up and saw the fire. My huge 30 foot A-Frame had already burned completely to the ground. The flames were still huge but you could tell the whole house was gone. I walked back into the house and said "Don't bother hurrying. It's gone". My children (Kelley is 15, Joshua is 12 and Caleb is 10) ran outside to look. They came back in silently and Mark and I ran out the door. As we headed up the hill to the house I touched Mark on the arm and said "Our children are safe and sound in the house back there...nothing up here matters." He agreed and we headed to the top of the hill.

I wasn't completely surprised at the devastation. I knew it was gone. I was TOTALLY shocked that this huge house had burned to the ground and not a soul was here. No curious on-lookers. No Welfare Trash that lives all over the place coming by to watch someone's world come to an end. No neighbors to offer any kind of comfort or support. Nobody. Nothing.

I jumped out of the truck before it was even stopped and just ran toward the fire. My husband screamed at me to stop. The propane tank was shooting flames 12 feet straight into the air but had not yet exploded. It apparently has a top that pops off and lets the gas burn off. It sounded literally like a jet engine. I pointed to our storage building and told my husband to go look and tell me if anything was missing. He turned from it and said "the mower is gone." At that moment I knew this was not an 'accident'. We had water, electricity, propane gas for heat (kept the heat turned to 55 degrees) and our heater was only a few years old and functioning perfectly. No fire in the fireplace, nothing that should have caused a fire. Accidents happen, but this was not an accident.

We stood in the yard holding each other and prayed. I think we both felt a bit of "comfort" from being able to do that. It gave us a measure of peace.

When I was 3 years old our home burned down while my Mother and I were home. I remember sitting and watching my Mom run inside over and over again to get our winter coats and to try to save our pet bird. I was so scared she was going to die. I could see the walls falling on the other end of the house and to this day it terrifies me that my Mom was inside there. The fire department couldn't have the trucks outside the village so they came in their cars and watched my Mom. They even offered her some advice..."Close those windows and it will burn slower." A fire department from a neighboring city came but it was too late. Everything was gone. The house was a total loss.

As I sat watching another home of mine burn to the ground....I thought of my kids. I told my husband to go home and tell the kids the house is gone but we are all okay and that is all that matters. I told him to stop and tell his parents what was happening before some idiot picks up the phone and calls and scares one of them into a heart attack. The fire department wasn't there yet and I hadn't even grabbed a jacket. It was cold but I felt nothing. Mark said...."I hate to leave you here alone. Are you gonna be warm enough?" I turned to him, gestured toward the house and said...."Really? I have a big fire here. If I get cold I'll just scoot a little closer to the house." He left with a look on his face like "uh oh, Angi's gone bye bye." But that is how I deal with things. If there is no humor to be found...then I am truly frightened. Everyone who knows me well knows that...and he did too. He just handles things very differently than I do. We work well together. LOL.

As I stood there in the yard totally alone, I turned to look up the driveway where the neighbor who called was. They were maybe 500 feet from where I was standing. They were standing in their glass sliding doorway. They turned their lights off when I turned and looked toward their house. From that point on we assumed they went back to bed. Not...."can I offer you a blanket?"...."a jacket?"...."would you like to wait up here where it is warm while I put on a pot of coffee?" No. They turned off their lights and either watched in the dark or went back to bed.

The only person I had anything at all in common with up on that hill was their daughter-in-law. She has boys a year younger than each of mine. She lives in a double wide just around a curve from my A-frame. She has lived there for 14 years and though we were never best friends, I thought we were friends. I have a cousin who teaches at our elementary school. Any time there is a delay or cancellation due to weather, he calls and tells me so I don't have to wait for it to get to the TV or radio news. For the past 6 years I have always called her immediately when he calls me so she can know early too. We were just good friends I thought.

While waiting for the fire department, the wind shifted and smoke blew in my face. I started hacking and soon was having a full-fledged asthma attack. By the time the firemen came I was on my hands and knees unable to stop coughing and gagging. One of the neighbors from a half a mile away at the bottom of the hill came up and told her son to go get me a jacket and an inhaler from their trailer. About that time the EMS squad I worked for arrived and my husband was back with a jacket for me. BUT, that is how a neighbor is SUPPOSED to act. After a quick breathing treatment and some oxygen I was better. This same neighbor drove me back to the farm house. Still hadn't seen or heard from any of our "close" neighbors.

Once the fire department got there, they basically put out the perimeter and squirted some water down into the hole that used to be the basement and that was it. It was totally gone. They asked what happened and I told them what I knew and that I wanted the authorities to be involved. They called the sheriff who notified the Fire Marshall. Unfortunately, the fire had burned so hot that there was literally nothing left. I mean even the glass melted and burned. No metal pipes. They not only melted, they burned away. The rocks and cinder blocks were literally exploding from the heat. We couldn't go near it for several hours because the rocks kept popping and flying apart. The official report was that it was a fire of 'unknown origin'.

The next day, the same neighbor who had called and told us the house was on "Far", called to make sure we knew he wanted first opportunity to buy 'that piece of property' when we sold it. He said not to let anybody else know. He wouldn't wanna drive the price up or anything like that.

All I have to say is, it is a darn good thing my preacher husband answered the phone because I am afraid that would have been the straw that broke THIS camel's back. Afterward I informed my husband that these people would get 'that piece of property' over my dead body. How dare ANYBODY refer to the place where we lived and raised our children for years as a 'piece of property'. The day before it had been my home. That offended me to no end.

So, four weeks passed by and last night the daughter-in-law FINALLY called me. I figured she was wanting to know what we were going to do with the 'piece of property'. But "elephantine gonads" took on a whole new meaning. She said hello and without even asking how we were, if we needed anything or were my children doing okay....she says, "Do you have any Pulmicort?" Both of her sons as well as both of mine have asthma and allergies. We have had a breathing machine since Caleb was 5 and was in the hospital with pneumonia. We use it often and had brought it up here because Mark's Mom was very ill and needed breathing treatments. This girl had regular medications for it but Pulmicort is an inhaled steroid that you use when they get really sick. Apparently, her youngest son was sick and needed the stronger stuff. After going a whole month without even asking about me, calling me, sending me an email or a card....she has the nerve to call me when she needs something. I said, "Well, Dawn, all of our medications burned up with our house. Did ya notice our house burned to the ground?" She told how her MIL had called her and told her not to try to come down the road our direction that day because the road was blocked with fire trucks. She said that fortunately she was off that day and didn't need to go anywhere. I am sure glad she was off. I would hate for someone to have been inconvenienced by my house fire. Sheesh! I told her I really had expected to hear from her sooner and she went into this big long explanation about how busy she has been. I said, "Yeah, I've been busy too. Sorry I can't help you." I doubt I will hear from her again. Thank goodness for Caller ID. I'll certainly not answer the phone again if she calls.

Despite the way all this happened and the nasty way our 'neighbors' treated us....I have discovered caring people that I had no idea even knew of me. That will be the subject of my next blog entry.