My oldest boy (age 15) was quick to get out of bed – something unusual for him.
He woke the eight year old while I woke the six year old. As they all got out of bed, I began to head up the stairs to grab my daughter’s birds, when about half-way up a feeling came to me that I shouldn’t go upstairs, but instead needed to get the children out immediately.
I turned back down the stairs.
I thought to grab my shoes, but knew I may not be able to quickly find shoes for the younger boys as they have a tendency to leave them in various areas of the house when they remove them from their feet.
I decided it would be better to have them leave without shoes than to go on a shoe hunt; therefore, I chose to go without shoes as well so that I was in a similar disposition as the children would be.
I grabbed a blanket off each of the younger boys’ beds to wrap around them and help keep them warm while we were outside.
As the 15 and 6 year olds headed out the sliding glass door of my bedroom, the oldest boy informed me the eight year old had gone the other way – toward the main door – so I immediately ran back to grab him.
Still uncertain where the fire was, I feared he was heading toward it.
I found my eight year old boy just as he was about to enter the foyer leading to the main door and told him to go through my room; he quickly obeyed.
I followed behind, first grabbing my bathrobe, phone, purse, and a $100 bill from my dresser drawer.
As I ran out, I called 911 to report the fire.
Suddenly, I remembered my daughter’s dog was on the deck – while still on the phone, I called for him (knowing he couldn’t get down on his own, but wanting to see that he was okay).
As I came around to the front of the house, I finally saw where the fire was; the side of the house opposite my bedroom was engulfed in flames that were reaching across the deck and into our family room.
The dog was standing at the far end of the deck, away from the flames, waiting. I then noticed my oldest son heading toward the shed at the end of the deck where he intended to climb up and help the dog down.
Before he reached the shed, the neighbor from two houses down came running over with a ladder.
As I felt confident the dog would be safe, I rushed the six and eight year olds to the neighbor’s yard, then I hurried back to our house and moved the car over to the neighbor’s driveway – to make sure there wouldn’t be any damage to the vehicle if there were any explosions.
After rescuing the dog, we were able to place him in the neighbor’s backyard where they kept their own dogs, and then the three boys and I sat and watched the flames from the neighbor’s driveway, in complete disbelief at what was happening, waiting for the fire crew to arrive.
