Battling the beast

We could hear the sirens getting closer. It was really cold, and dark, and we had only gotten out of the house wearing pjs or sweats. Emmett had no shoes on. Jack said "Go wake up George and Barbara" (these are our dear neighbors across the street). I ran over and rang the doorbell. I kept turning and looking at our burning house and then back to their door, banging and ringing the doorbell. Of course they were in solid slumber so it took a few minutes for them to be roused. George opened the door - "George, the house is on fire".

Inside George and Barbara's, the kids and I huddled and paced, paced and huddled. The dogs were antsy. Five firetrucks were now lining our little cul de sac. Jack stayed out there, at first directing and then standing back and taking direction. Firefighters, EMTs, Red Cross, police officers - everywhere.

Mo and Ronnie were up in Paris (TX), but Ronnie's son Andrew was home and was the first one to come outside. He brought Jack warm clothes and a few blankets. Soon other neighbors arrived with blankets and shoes and, most importantly, hugs. One neighbor is about 8 months pregnant, and another had just had her twins s few days earlier. I collapsed in their arms. Andrew told us he was going to set up some beds for us inside his house - for whenever we were ready. Later I would tell Ronnie and Mo how proud I know they would have been of how wonderful and sensitive and caring Drew had been. During the ups and downs of child-rearing, there are days when a parent isn't quite sure what their kid is made of - Ronnie and Mo now know what kind of man they have raised.

It's now about 5:30am and the fire is being battled full force. I'm back outside and see the EMTs bringing a stretcher - I'm panicked but they reassure me - this is SOP at a fire. None of the courageous, amazing firefighters were hurt. The fire captain told me something that will stick with me, I assume, forever: he said that never in his 20+ years of firefighting had he seen a fire of this intensity, which started at this hour of the day, where everyone survived. Merry Christmas, indeed.

Word was starting to spread. Other dear friends started arriving. Each brought their own brand of loving embrace and comforting words. We'll be ok, they told me. They never said "you", this was happening to all of us. We were not alone. Their strength and compassion kept us going.

Once the fire was out, the sun came up as if nothing had happened.

http://www.myfoxaustin.com/dpp/news/local/122509-Fire-Destroys-Northwest-Austin-Home