It was days after the Winter Solstice and days before Christmas. I had just turned 7, and the following is an account of what happened, as I remember it. This Christmas will be 25 years since it happened, and since it changed the lives of our family forever.
I was in my bed, on the top bunk above my brother Joey. My clock read 8:03 p.m. I remember distinctively looking at my digital clock for some reason and seeing the red numbers as my family's late friend Kenny was heard as he came upstairs from the apartment below us. "Annie, I think we have a fire escape, he said to my mother." I could see his face from my bed as he stood in the hallway, and it was a much paler shade of it's usual dark, Italian looking skin. I don't know if that's exactly what was said, but that's what I remember I heard. The next few minutes are foggy, but I remember my mom getting me and my sister Trid down the stairs, (we were on the second floor.) Kenny, I believe, grabbed 2 year old Joey and 4 month old Sissa and brought them down the stairs. My dad was at work. After safely getting outside, we went in our pj's to the Dunkin' Donuts next door, where it was warm. The next thing I think I recall is my dad screeching up the street in my family's little red car and stopping in front of our house, now engulfed in flames and surrounded by firetrucks, with their lights flashing and lighting up the night sky.
It was chaos...I remember that. Soon after my dad arrived, with the fire trucks and police already on scene, we were walked down the street to my neighbor's house, where we stayed while I imagine my parents stayed near the fire, seeking answers. As I walked down the street with my sister Trid, who had just turned 5 years old, holding her hand, and my mom and Kenny carrying Joey and Sissa, I looked up at the house and noticed the flames through the windows. It was the most incredible thing I had ever seen. All my stuff was in there! I had so many questions and I was scared, but even at 7, I was trying to calm down my little sister. I held her hand as we walked in the cold down the short street to our neighbor's home. "What about the Christmas tree?" Those words are forever seared in my memory. I had no answer...I was only 7. I figured the fireman would save it. "How will Santa know where we are?" Again, I had no idea. I think I cried at this point, because I didn't know how Santa would find us either. Of course, despite seeing my house engulfed, it was my assumption at the time that the fireman would put the fire out and we would be back in our beds by tomorrow. The next hours are foggy. I don't remember what my parents did while our home burned down. The next thing I remember is being driven to my grandparent's house, who lived a few blocks away, with a couple of my aunts and my uncle in a 3 bedroom house. My family piled in and slept on cots, on the ground, on a couch, wherever we could find a spot. I don't know what my parents did that night. I can't remember if they stayed at my grandparent's too, or if they were up all night dealing with everything or what...I remember I was on a green cot and I didn't sleep at all.
The next day, I went with my dad and a few of his buddies to check out the damage. I remember I said, as adult as I could muster..."This couldn't have happened to a nicer family." I remember everyone there laughed, and I suppose looking back, if I was an adult and heard a seven year old say the same thing, I would have thought it was cute and funny too. A moment of light-hearted innocence from a boy who didn't quite understand the scope of what happened. I felt embarrassed after saying it, because the grown-ups laughed at it, but looking back I'm glad I did. The house was all black, and wet, and it smelled like a campfire. I was amazed at what the fire had done. Everything was gone.
Our fire made the paper and the news. There's a clip of my dad picking up our charred Christmas tree from the local paper and my mom digging through the rubble. At my grandmother's house, on Christmas Eve, Santa came and visited the house and we sang Christmas songs. Donations from friends and the community poured in. We had no clothes, no toys, nothing to keep us busy...we lost everything. We didn't go without these things for very long, probably less than 24 hours before people heard about what happened and jumped into action. I still don't have many pictures of myself from when I was real young, only what my other family had. Those things, of course, couldn't be replaced. I had a glass piggy bank with probably a couple bucks in it in coins and a few bills. I was saving up for a Nintendo. A fireman who was on the scene the previous night came by my grandmother's house to check on us, and he gave me the glass piggy bank, which was shaped as a pig, that had somehow survived the inferno. Nothing much else did. My "girlfriend" Miranda Watson, who was in my first grade class, (and one of the very few real names I use in this space,) came by my grandparent's house with her parents and several garbage bags full of clothes for my sister.
We had a fundraiser, and I can't remember if it took place before Christmas or after. I have no idea how much money and donations were made, but I remember how emotional it made my parents. I remember my dad using the microphone to thank people. I remember there being food and dancing and the song "That's What Friends Are For" played at the end and everyone stood in a big circle and held hands and sang along. Seems kind of cheesy, I know, but the outpouring of generosity was touching, even for a 7 year old boy.
We were essentially homeless, and it was tight quarters in my grandparents small home, but we made it work. I can't imagine the stress it must have caused my mom and dad, even though their 4 kids were safe and had temporary shelter...they were in their late 20's. What would they do? I'm sure that thought was the only thing running through their minds. My family was eventually put up in a shelter, ironically situated directly next door to our house that had burned. I returned to school, but I don't remember how long we were out. I know that I was in first grade, and that my classmates had been made aware of what happened. When I came back, I walked around the room and each of the kids sad on the floor and had a penny or a coin for me. I felt embarrassed as I walked around and collected the coins and hand-drawn cards. My first grade teacher bought me a Huffy bike with training wheels.
My house was rebuilt, and we moved back in several months later, into the downstairs apartment this time. Kenny moved on to live somewhere else. We had learned soon after the fire had engulfed all of our personal belongings that our furnace had malfunctioned and caught some nearby items in the basement on fire, which quickly spread up throughout the inside of our home, with most of the damage being in my bedroom, directly above the furnace. If it hadn't been for my neighbor...who knows. He was a great man, and not to be overly dramatic, but could very well have saved our lives. The timing of the fire being what it was, probably saved us as well. If the furnace had faltered at 3:00 a.m., with all of use asleep, I shudder to think about what would have happened.
Now a Christmas without presents can be very traumatic for kids, especially for me and Trid, aged 7 and 5, as I mentioned. As it turned out, we never had more presents in our entire lives that Christmas. I believe my parents had to eventually turn down Christmas presents at one point. I got my Nintendo. It brought us together as a family, and I know that it brought my parents' friends and family very close together. You sure find out who cares about you after tragedy strikes. As far as fires go happening a couple days before Christmas, especially with nobody getting hurt, (except for our cat, who didn't make it) this fire brought out the best in people. And for us kids, and the presents that we got, it wound up as the best Christmas ever. More because it showed how many people cared about my family, and less because I got to stay home from school and play with all of my many new toys.
When bad things happen, it's human nature to want to help out, which is what makes people so great. The goodness of mankind is out there. Through the fighting and bad-blood that people of different races and religions have, there is more goodness out there than hate. Sometimes it takes horrific things to show it...but it's out there. Be nice to people for no reason every once in a while. I have to remind myself of that sometimes....ok, a lot. But my true belief is that treating others good will come back to you. I have no religion...not interested in it. I have faith in the goodness of people. I tend to think there are more like-minded people out there than not.
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