House Fire - What Matters Most?

I left my home one day with my kids and my dog in the car. I was just heading out for a short time to drop my son off with friends. I was gone for about 30 minutes.

When I arrived home and parked in the carport I could hear a loud beeping sound. I thought, “That’s weird, did I leave an alarm on or something?” I didn’t think much of it. When I got to the door, I couldn’t see through the window. It was solid black with soot and it was at that moment I realized it was a fire alarm.

The news of someone’s home catching fire, and in many cases, burning to the ground, takes most of our minds to similar thoughts and questions, “Oh my God, if that happened to me what would I do?” and “What would I try to save?” There I was. It was actually happening to me.

I quickly ran to the sliding door on the back deck and, again, all I could see was black soot and a couple of cracked windows. My primary thought: “Where is my cat? Oh my God, Oliver is inside!” I heard many times about the danger of fueling a fire with air. Opening a door may be one of the worst things you can do. And there I was opening the sliding door to call my cat.

Almost immediately the flames erupted and engulfed the kitchen. It was already very hot and I was still trying to call my cat. Let’s pause here for a moment. Would any cat you’ve ever met in your entire life be standing there ready to exit the door next to an inferno? Clearly my mind had checked out of rational thinking.

I called 911 and ran for the hose while making sure my 7 year old daughter stayed with the dog out in the driveway. I tried to spray the fire through the back door while windows were breaking, cupboards were falling and flames began to shoot the roof of the kitchen.

I could see my Mom’s baby album on the dining room table and the flames were headed that way. My mind was racing. “I must keep the flames away from the baby album.” Oh my God, not my mom’s baby album.” I thought about running inside to grab it but it was very hot and I would be too close to the flames. Apparently, this was one of the few rational thoughts I still had in my brain.

The ridiculous garden hose did absolutely nothing to fight the powerful flames but I focused on the area closest to the album in a futile effort to keep the flames at bay. The fire department arrived quickly but it felt like an eternity as I stood there helpless and fixated on my mom’s baby album and my cat, Oliver.

My mom had passed away 10 years earlier after a lifelong debilitating illness. I had just celebrated her birthday as I did every year and her baby album was part of that special day. It was a tradition I kept going after she died to keep her memory alive for the family, and especially my children who didn’t get to share life with her.

The fire department notified me upon arrival they were having issues with the water pressure on the street and they weren’t running to help me in spite of my screaming at them, “Run! Run! What are you doing??” I was infuriated about the way they seemed to be meandering down our long driveway with what appeared to be no sense of urgency. They told me to leave the area. “It’s not safe”, they said. I argued with them, “No, you’re not doing anything – obviously I have to do this myself!” They forcibly made me leave the area in spite of my major contributions to the fire fighting efforts. (that’s a joke)

The firefighters brought in axes and fire hoses to battle the flames. When it was all over, the house was still standing. I apologized for being so argumentative when they arrived. I got the impression this was fairly normal behavior for a person losing their home to a fire and we actually laughed a little together in the middle of the disaster zone. Our home suffered major smoke and water damage, and structural damage in the area where the fire started. Both the Fire and Insurance Inspector ruled the fire was caused by a phone charger.

My cat, Oliver, came out of hiding 2 days later smelling like smoke. My mom’s baby album was less than 3 feet from the destroyed area of the home. There wasn’t one drop of water on it and the area where it sat on the table was the only area on the entire main floor free of soot and smoke damage. I stared at it for some time in disbelief. Over the next few days I looked around the area to try to make sense of how this space could be so unaffected and asked other people for opinions. There was no rational answer.

During the moments of fighting the blaze and hearing cupboards full of keepsakes crash to the ground while flames shot through my roof, I don’t recall worrying about any other possessions or even losing my home. I thought about the cat and mom’s baby album. Is it because I was irrational or overwhelmed? Or because it was a divine opportunity to witness a miracle? Or, were the cat and mom’s album truly my most prized possessions? I’m going to say it was all of the above.