If I recall it was February 13th 2010, around 2 am. I was just under 7 months pregnant and still able to sleep comfortably. Greg and I were fast asleep in bed when we had a loud knock on our door. Greg told me to stay in bed since it was 2 am and who knows who it was. I don't listen well and got up, put my robe on and walked in the living room. There were two police officers standing at my door and my heart dropped. What could they possibly want at 2 in the morning? At this point my head went through all the worst case scenarios: Someone died, someone was in accident, I was getting arrested. They asked if Meghan Wheeler lived here and I spoke up behind Greg. They then proceeded to tell me that my "mother's" house had caught on fire and that it had burnt down. I was instructed to go pick up my "grandfather" from the neighbors and that my "mother" was on her way to the ER via ambulance. At this point I was very confused. My mother and grandmother live in the same city but they never speak so I was confused as to why my grandfather would be at the mother's house. At that point I asked about my step-father and my younger brother. The officers said there were only two people inside the house. Still very confused I closed the door and tried to rationalize what just happened. If I had been smart and thinking straight I would have asked for the address. But I wasn't think straight so I went into the bedroom to get dressed and while doing so checked my phone to see if I had any missed calls. Sure enough there were 3. One from dispatch at the fire department saying my "grandmother's" house had caught on fire and that she was headed to the ER. She then proceeded to give me the address. The other two were from my grandmother telling me where she was and that my grandfather needed to be picked up. Greg and I split up, he went to pick up Grandpa and I headed to the hospital.
On my drive there, I called my father and told him what was going on. He told me to keep him posted and he would be up first thing in the morning. I walked into the emergency and into my grandma's room. She had black ash and smoke all over her face. They were watching her because she had inhaled a lot of smoke. I asked her what happened and she proceeded to tell me. She and Grandpa both woke up about the same time to use the bathroom. This is odd because they sleep in separate rooms. After the bathroom she said she heard some popping and crackling noises. She went out into the living room to see what was going on. The smoke detectors had not gone off and there wasn't any smoke in the house. She went to the door to the garage and instead of feeling like we all learned in elementary school, she opened it right up. The flames and smoke went right over her head and the back draft began. She got Grandpa out of the house and when they walked outside an off duty firefighter was already on his way into the her house. He was driving to work and noticed the smoke and fire from the garage and called 911 and proceeded to try to get anyone who might be in there out. I sat quiet in her room trying to regroup and understand all she had told me. The fire had started in the garage but the alarms never went off. My grandmother had just watched her house, her life, all her belonging burn before her eyes. Overall she was taking it pretty well. The doctor came in and said they were going to keep her for observation to make sure she was okay. Just then, my phone rang, it was Greg. He had gotten to the house and gotten to my grandpa. He said that the house was gone, there was nothing left. I guess I thought he was over exaggerating, he does that often because I didn't really believe him that the house was gone.
I told my grandma the house was gone and she just sat in disbelief. Greg was going to take my grandpa to get some warm clothes and shoes and would be at the hospital soon. Grandma was transferred to the observation floor and shortly after Greg arrived. We decided to leave and grab some breakfast and then I wanted Greg to take me to the house. I wanted to be able to prepare my grandma for whatever was there. I didn't want her to see it, not until I knew what it was. We pulled up to the house and all I could do was cry. Greg wasn't exaggerating, the house was gone. There was nothing. You could see from the garage straight to the other side. There were some fire fighters still on the scene. They were waiting for the fire marshal to come investigate the cause. I remember the smell mostly, it was the worst smell. The concrete was buried in ash and water. It was black, as was the brick and the few wooden beams left. Grandma's car was completed gutted, all that was left was the metal frame. It was a horrific site, one that I hope to never see again. I called my mom to let her know what was going on. Even though my mom and grandma didn't get along my mom was very sympathetic and started crying on the phone. We decided it was time to return to the hospital. Now that I knew what the house was like, I could try and prepare my grandma for what was coming. I knew I didn't want to be the one that took her to the house so I decided I would leave that to my father when he got into town. I grabbed Grandma some clothes from the store and headed back to the hospital.
Once there I tried to explain to her what was left which was nothing and that for now, we were going to go to my house until Dad got into town. She agreed because she knew I was exhausted being 7 months pregnant and all and didn't put up a fight. The day went by slow and Dad arrived mid-afternoon. It was crazy trying to get every organized, like where they were going to stay, calling the insurance company, getting them clothes, all the things that we take for granted. Things settled down by the end of the weekend and grandma went back to work Monday morning. Dad stayed for a week or so to get things in order. The decision was made to not rebuild her home because there wasn't anything left and to sell the property.
All in all everything has turned out okay. My grandmother bought a beautiful home that was newer and smaller. She didn't need all that space anymore any way. There were so many memories in that house. My grandmother kept everything. These were things I grew up with and have been in every house she ever lived in. There were dolls, stuffed animals, my books from when I was a kid, every art project I ever made at her house and all sorts of things belonging to my Aunt Marie but now they are all gone, they are ash are irreplaceable. It is hard going into her new house because it doesn't have the same smell, the pictures of me from birth until graduation aren't on her walls, baby pictures of my dad and aunt aren't where they should and her millions of owls that she had all over the house are no where to be found. It doesn't smell like the antiques she had, the furniture is all new and it is so hard sometimes. I have to remember everything happens for a reason and I know that this was one of those situations. It has changed the way I feel about things. I know that living is so much more important than the things we live with. One of the amazing things that happened was the community and how the rallied to help my grandma. The doctor in the hospital came in and opened his wallet and emptied it out for her. He didn't think anything of it, he just did it. It is people like that, that remind you why we try to do good things. I didn't share this on my blog when it happened but I felt I needed to now. I will leave you with a few pictures of the fire and damage.
These were taken by a woman at the fire.
The fire was awful, they are lucky to be alive.
The next morning, the front of the house.
This was the garage on the side of the house.
The is in the middle of the house in the living area.
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