Chreasters

I had warned the kids in advance - on Christmas Eve we *will* be going to a church service, and then down to 37th street to see the lights, and then to dinner at Kobe, a Japanese steak house which has kind of become our tradition. This was met with the requisite teenage eye rolls. Aly said "I can't believe we're Chreasters". Huh? She informed me that Chreasters are those who attend church services just twice a year - on the big holidays, Christmas and Easter. Yes, we're Chreasters.

Christmas Eve was cold and windy. Since I've lost my New England tolerance, we decided to skip 37th street. We went to the 5pm service at Bethany United Methodist. It was a contemporary service which is not Jack's favorite. He just can't get right with the electric guitars and tamborines rocking out to "Oh Come all ye Faithful". We saw several families we knew there, and gave the church pew wave when we made eye contact. I remember thinking how nice it was to be part of a small community - we see people we know all the time at the grocery store, out walking, and twice a year at church. These are good people - we're not judged for being Chreasters.

After the service we headed to Kobe. I don't usually like the whole Japanese steakhouse performance and opt to sit on the quiet side - but the kids wanted to so we enjoyed the "show". On the way home I told the kids the plan for tomorrow was for everyone to sleep as late as they wanted, then we'd lounge around in pajamas all day, and then dad was going to make us a nice dinner. Everyone agreed that this sounded like a great Christmas.

At about 4:15am I was roused by a strange noise. It wasn't really a strange noise, it was our smoke detector - but I was in a very deep and groggy sleep. I nudged Jack. "What's that noise?". Jack: "I don't know" (also groggy). When you have teenagers you get used to hearing all sorts of interesting noises during the night - but a smoke detector is so distinct, it was strange we didn't immediately recognize it. I half wonder if carbon monoxide was slowing us down. Regardless, Emmett was soon pounding on our door yelling "The deck! The deck! Get up!".

The next 10 minutes were totally surreal. I tried to walk out to the deck but as soon as I hit the family room my eyes started burning and breathing was difficult. I saw no flame. I went back to the front door. Aly was asking "Should I call 911?". I responded "I'm going to try and open some windows" (obviously still not grasping the gravity of the situation). We were doing all of this in the dark. Jack then saw the flames and told us to call 911. I went to the kitchen and called. "Is everyone out of the house?". "Well, no we're still in the house - there is a fire on our deck". "OK, I know it is cold outside but you have to get everyone out of the house now". Aly put Scout on a leash and headed out. We could hear the sirens now. Emmett said "Fenway!" (our other pup who sleeps in her kennel in the office). Jack turned back for Fenway as Emmett and I went out to join Aly and Scout. Jack can tell you what happened next much better than I, but my understanding is that he entered the office, which was filled with smoke from the ceiling down to about his waist. He couldn't see the kennel so he just reached for it and got a hold. As he was reaching for it, he turned towards the french doors that separate the office from our family room. There were floor to ceiling flames just 3 feet away - on the other side of the door. Jack, carrying Fenway's kennel (which held 65 pound Fenway), got out safely. He says he never felt any heat, just saw the flames. The firefighters had a word for that - "adrenaline" they said.

We were all on the front lawn now, watching flames shooting out of the door from which we had just exited moments before.

The really crazy thing is that the entire time frame - from the moment we got out of bed and saw no flames, until the flames were shooting out the front door and engulfing our home - could not have been more than 10 minutes. It was simply, amazingly, terrifyingly fast.