911…What’s your emergency?

Saturday, started off well a pretty “boring” day.  My hubby let me sleep in.  My kids slept late, as well.  We had planned on nothing and that is really what we did.  (We did work on curricula – something I dread, more than childbirth.)

So, after a great supper, ravioli lasagna, we decided to go on a bike ride and work off some calories.  Our family truly looks like a parade when all of us hit the streets.

After taking on our neighborhood streets we were back in our driveway, when we noticed the black smoke coming from our neighbors house.  This was more than barbeque smoke.  It was black putrid smoke, like a field of tires on fire.

My hubby, who still had my two year old on his bike told me to get the other kids inside, he was going to their front, to make sure no one was inside and for me to call 911.  I grabbed our house phone, told the kids to start a movie, and called 911.

“911…What’s your emergency?”  “My neighbors house is on fire.”  “What is the location?”  “I am not sure because they live behind us and their street is different.”  (Note to self:  pay attention to the streets behind you.) “ What is your address?”  I tell them mine.  In five minutes, fire trucks pull up to the front of my house.  I run up to them – wondering what is happening to my hubby in the back of my mind.  I tell them “not my house” but my back neighbor’s house.  Now policeman are surrounding my house.  Luckily, my kids are inside watching a movie.  Then my phone starts ringing.  All the neighbors start calling to check on our house.  (They probably think, 5 kids, it was bound to happen sooner or later.)

Now, the fire truck is in our alley. Now my kids start to pay attention and want to come outside.  “No, stay inside!”  The smoke is beginning to get thick and it is dark outside.  All the neighbors have now come to our front yard.

My hubby has yet to show up.  Smoke is now in our house, the wind has shifted and our garage is filled with smoke.  A police officer comes back in our yard.  I ask him, have you seen a man with a child on the back of his bike?  He replies, no.  I ask him, do have a suggestion on how to get the smoke out of our house.  He replies, after the fire, open the house and put fans everywhere.  “Thanks.”   He was gone.  I go to the front, where the neighbors have gathered.  There is my hubby and baby.  I was so glad to see them.  They had to go the back way to get back to our house because the streets were closed off.  I grab my baby and take him inside.

The neighbors wanted to see the action.  So, they went to our back yard.  It was a sight to see.  All these grown ups in our new kid’s fort, watching a fire.  I go and get some bottled water for everyone.  As I pass them out, my hubby overheard this conversation.  “No thanks for the water, I have a beer.”  One of our neighbors, says to her, “The house is on fire, not a barbeque.”  We love our neighbors, they have become like distant relatives, that we only see when disaster strikes.  (Note to self:  we have got to have a community bbq soon!)

Luckily, no one was home in the fire.  They did have their dogs.  One of them did not make it.  The firefighters did an exceptional job.  There were probably 4 fire trucks and tons of firemen.  At one time, the firemen came out of the house and just fell over in the grass.  It made me so sad yet thankful.  They were willing to risk their life to go into an unknown place to save others.  My dad is a volunteer firefighter, and I grew up going to fires and to firehouses but this was my first “grown-up” fire.  I have a new appreciation of what our firefighters go through. 

I spoke to the owner of the house later.  It turns out that her husband had died this past August.  (Note to self:  We never truly know, what might be going on around us.)  He turns out, used to work on jets and a lot of jet material was still in the home.  (Thus, the black smoke.)  How easy it could have exploded?  Again, my thanks and gratitude for the firefighters who risked their lives.

I am so thankful!