Ever have one of those days where you've got so many things to do and it seems nothing gets done, no matter how hard you try? Yeah, that was me yesterday.
After being a hair model for a Paul Mitchell educator and getting a free hair cut, I had 4 loads of laundry to do, menus and a grocery list to create, shopping to do, many phone calls to make, 3 miles to run with Jake when Jared got home, and several other things that aren't typical on Mondays.
One of those other things was going to show a rental home we manage to a prospective tenant. I had two appointments for showings. One at 5:30 and one at 6pm. Then, because Karcyn took a 3 1/2 hour nap unexpectedly, we had to go to Winco AFTER we showed the house.
The 5:30 showing went well. She turned in her application but didn't have her application fee so I told her I'd be at the rental til at least 6pm for the other showing if she wanted to go to the bank and bring it to me. She agreed and drove off. It was just barely 6 o'clock when I heard Cooper exclaim, "Jake, look!!" I was occupying myself by looking at the lady's application and watching for her to come back and the other man to show up for his appointment and didn't think much of Cooper's announcement. The boys get excited over everyday airplanes flying overhead. But in the back of my mind, I didn't hear the engine of a plane and I started to see a shadow cast on the street, so curiosity got the best of me and I, too, looked. We were parked on the right side of the street. To the left (west), above the tops of the houses, we saw large quantities of thick black smoke shooting fast into the air. My heart sank. That can't be good!
I turned the van around and drove two streets down to try and find the house or yard or car the smoke was coming from and to make sure help was on the way. It was a house up on the left. Smoke was flowing fast from the back side of it. I saw an older lady screaming on our side of the street, clutching a little girl to her chest on the sidewalk. I pulled up and parked quickly, ordered the kids to stay in the car no matter what, grabbed my phone and jumped out. There was already a small crowd on the sidewalk directly across the street from the house on fire.
I ran up to the lady, put my arm on her back and asked her if that was her house. She said yes. I asked her if there was anyone still in the house. She said there were a couple cats still inside and groaned. I told her I knew that was hard, but the most important thing is that her family was safe. She was very upset, screaming over her shoulder to no one in particular for the fire department to hurry up and get there. I asked her if 911 had been called. She said yes. Another man ran up to us at that point with his phone in hand saying several calls had been made to 911 and they were on their way. The poor lady was very upset and in distress. I asked her if she wanted some water. She said yes. I grabbed a water bottle from my van, which had already been opened, but I gave it to her anyway. I asked her if there was anyone she wanted me to call for her. She said no and said she couldn't think straight. It was at that point that I heard the sirens getting close. My van was parked on the road, so I jumped into the van, backed it up and drove hard right, cockeyed into a driveway, trying hard not to hit the car parked there, to get my vehicle off the street. I glanced at the clock quickly on the dashboard. It was only a few minutes past six. Ah man. That lady would be coming back to the rental and wonder where I was. Not to mention, I'd be standing up the 6 o'clock appointment. There wasn't much I could do. I was too involved at this point.
When I got back to the sidewalk, I turned my focus on the little girl stuck in the frantic grasp of the lady who was becoming increasingly unglued. She looked to be about Karcyn's age. I asked her if she would like a fruit snack. She nodded. I rummaged quickly through the diaper bag and pulled one out for her.
That's when the older lady said, "I need to call my husband. I want to call my husband." I told her "no problem" and whipped out my phone as she started rattling off numbers, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. She gave me the first 6 digits, but couldn't get the other 4 out of her head. She gave me a set of numbers and then she swore a couple of times because that didn't seem right to her. I told her it was okay and showed her my phone pad, asking her if it would help to try and see the numbers as if she were dialing. She said yes and the numbers came back to her. I asked her if she wanted me to talk to him. She said she would so I offered to take the little girl out of her arms.
A younger lady, about my age, came up to us. She was the older lady's daughter and the mom of the little girl. She asked if her daughter was okay, I said she was. The other mother and daughter started talking. The fire engines had already arrived several minutes before and I was completely oblivious to it. The older lady turned her attention back to me and looked as though she was about to pass out. I suggested she come sit in my van to relax and get cool for a few minutes and she could still talk to her daughter. I sat in the driver's seat with the little girl on my lap while she ate her fruit snack.
Cooper, in the meantime, was giddy with excitement because the firetrucks were less than two feet from our van. I heard him say, "I know those firemen!" and "This is so cool!" I growled his name to get his attention, hoping our van guests couldn't hear me and shot him the "SHUT UP NOW" look while willing fiery darts from my eyes so there was no mistaking in his mind that this WASN'T cool!! We had the very people who were in the house when it caught on fire in our car and this was a horrible thing happening to them.
A few minutes later, the older lady got out of the van to go find another relative. The daughter took her place in the front passenger seat. We exchanged names as we watched the firefighters at work. The gal told me that her mom and aunt were living in that house with her other uncle. She had been there helping one of her aunt's move in that very afternoon. Half her things were still in the driveway in boxes. She said before it happened her grandpa was inside and she heard him yell fire. They didn't think too much of it at first because grandpa often makes a big deal out of little things, but when she went to see, there was so much smoke she knew this wasn't anything they could handle on their own. She grabbed him, called 911 and tried to get everyone out of the house while answering all of the dispatcher's questions. She even heard a window explode on their way out. She was just grateful grandpa had been in the house to alert them, as they were all out in the garage unpacking the one aunt's belongings. I told her that there were many reasons for them to be grateful. It could have been so much worse. It could have been at night or when they weren't home. The gal told me she suspects it might be a cigarette that started the fire. Apparently her mom and the other relatives are big smokers. At one point, she told her mom this and her mom (older lady) said they hadn't been in the back of the house smoking for quite some time. The daughter told her that cigarette butts can smolder for a while. The daughter told me her mom felt some major guilt thinking she might have been the cause of the fire. She also said there is an air conditioning unit back there that might have malfunctioned too.
The smoke had stopped when we looked back at the house. Seemed like they were getting close to being done. It wasn't even 6:30 at this point but it felt like hours! That's when I realized, with a slight twinge of stupidity that I was stuck. Literally. I had THREE fire trucks (and an ambulance) blocking me and two more on the other side of the house. The street was impassable.
One of the big wigs from the fire department was gathering the family into the house next door to debrief and get statements, no doubt. So the gal said she should probably go and took her daughter with her. She thanked me for everything and said I helped in more ways than I would know. I shrugged it off. I was just in the right place at the right time. It's not like I was the one that called 911. I told her it was no problem and wished them luck.
As I sat there, stuck in my van, thinking back on the events of the last half hour, I started to feel a little bit proud of myself. I was unbelievably calm through that whole ordeal, which I didn't know I was capable of. Thoughts and actions came to my mind that I certainly don't credit myself with....like offering water, a fruit snack, my phone, the phone pad, trying to comfort and say things that amazingly didn't come out the wrong way as most things seem to do when they escape my mouth. I also thought how I almost didn't bring the diaper bag on our outing and how I put a few extra fruit snacks in the diaper bag several days ago.
One thing I realized was that firefighters don't just put out fires then leave. They stay for quite some time. We saw them go back into the house (to secure it maybe?) and then they started tossing things out of the upstairs window onto a tarp on the grass below. I'm not sure why 5 fire trucks and the fire fighters that go with each truck had to stay, but I'm sure they have their protocol. That's just something I hadn't ever learned on field trips to the fire station or during Fire Safety Week as an educator. And believe it or not, Cooper did recognize the fire fighters in the TVFD truck directly behind our van. They were the fighters we met on his walking field trip to the fire station off of 209th last fall. I recognized them too as they walked back and forth between the house and the truck.
As it neared 7pm with no more indication that fire trucks were leaving, I figured I'd better ask to find out what was going on. A fire fighter was walking in my direction, back to a rig. He had his helmet on, his pants and suspenders were folded over at his waist. His t-shirt underneath was sweaty, dotted with dirt and dust. His face was flushed with sweat & smudged with ash and go figure, he smelled of smoke.
I felt like the biggest idiot and sheepishly approached him. I said I was one of the first people on the scene and was helping the residents in the house. But in the process I got trapped as I gestured to the van. I asked him how long it would take before we could get out. He smiled a kind smile and said he would work on it for me. I waved my hands and said, "No, no, please don't do anything just for me." He assured me it was fine and it would give someone something to do while they moved the trucks. I told him thank you and still felt like an idiot despite his understanding.
The ambulance finally left, and I watched from the sidewalk as one firetruck and then two backed up along side the opposite side of the street. That still left the firetruck directly behind me. As I looked, I saw that I might could pull out and back up and just drive in reverse through that portion of the street, but worried about hitting someone who might drive in. Another fire fighter discerned my thoughts when he asked, "Are you trying to get out?" I said yes, that I was one of the first people here and thought I could squeeze out and drive in reverse. He said he'd just pull the firetruck further up the street. I told him thank you and of course wanted to crawl into a hole. Here I was, the cause of THREE firetrucks needing to move. Way to go, Jenn.
As I backed out, the first firefighter I spoke to was directing me (even though I didn't need it because the way was clear). I appreciated it though and waved him a thank you as we drove away.
It was after 7pm. My kids were getting restless. They needed dinner. But we needed to go to the store because we had no food. Yet there was no way I was taking them grocery shopping when they were 20 minutes from bedtime and on empty stomachs. So for the third time that day, I postponed going to the store, drove the kids home and divvied up the last little bit of oatmeal squares and milk into 4 bowls for dinner.
The store would have to wait until later.
But I don't regret our side trip.
