Fire!
An Unusual Saturday Morning
On the morning of October 14 2023, my apartment filled with smoke. I noticed my air filter going crazy. Looked around and saw smoke. Odd, I thought, as I opened the door to the deck and checked my stove, as I haven't eaten breakfast yet. I could hear popping behind the oven and when I looked outside I saw smoke coming out from under the guttering.
Oof, time to leave. I grabbed my purse conveniently hanging on the nail I put up less than a month ago. My keys from the pot my friend Dawn made, headed outside while calling 911.
I spent 3 hours that morning watching dark smoke escape from my roof, gutters falling, siding melting. Watching Millville fire brigade do their job professionally with care, chatting to neighbors and onlookers. I was finally allowed back into my apartment at 11 am , after leaving around 8am.
My apartment smelled smoky. The ceiling had fallen down over the bedside table and over the bath. Nothing looked damaged until I lifted up my comb from the bathroom counter. It left behind a shadow, reminding me of photos after nuclear explosions. The electricity was off, adding to the atmosphere.
I don't intend this to be an essay about the fire, or to understand the implications of the fire on my life. It's too early to understand the transformative effects of potentially losing your life's collection of stuff and all I feel is grateful that I am, and my neighbors are, unhurt.
After checking my apartment and randomly grabbing what I considered essential for the next few days, I went to the Amish market for breakfast. The only reason I chose this for brunch was because I had intended to go there that morning before the fire. My emotional dissociation wasn't able to change my earlier plan.
Food helped, providing the energy I needed to phone my friend Tanya for a place to stay and to phone my insurance to start that process. I'm grateful to both, especially to Tanya. Her response was "come, just come". Staying with her family has been a balm and a comfort.
I own a private library. l am, after all, a former academic and a daughter of an academic, from a family of readers. I own thousands of books; fiction, on food, on nature, on art, about knitting and spinning. All these are smoke damaged. The only things not trashed by the smoke, soot, and falling insulation appear to be the yarn and fiber I stored in plastic totes. I hope. It's hard to tell if something smells of smoke or not when everything smells of smoke.
I've visited my apartment twice since the fire. The first time was the Monday two days afterwards. Blue tarp covers the roof and flaps against the kitchen window. New damage as the ceiling with associated insulation was down over the stove and all over the kitchen. There are smoke stains by the lights and ducts, smoke stung my eyes. I did less than I intended and had more success than I hoped. I took photos for insurance. How do you show smoke damage? While there, I was shown a new apartment which I could have for 12 months at my current rent. I got the new lease this morning.
On Thursday I went back, Tanya lives 2 h from my apartment, to meet with the professional cleaners sent by my insurance. There was caution tape around the damaged apartments, including mine. Nothing really had changed, I wanted to fold laundry and put it away, tidy up a bit but it feels pointless.
The cleaners took 2 bags of hand knits and other valuable-to-me textiles, my electronics, and artwork to clean and restore. I was disappointed that they don't clean furniture and other hard belongings. Also disappointed that no one appears to care about my books or yarn and fiber.
Everything is moving both too fast and not fast enough. I need more recovery time while wanting to have my life back under control. I need a new mattress, sofa, bedding, bathroom stuff, while needing to clean everything I want to keep, from forks to bed frames. All preferably before this weekend when I take possession of my new apartment. Ha! I accept that is unlikely.
As someone who does project management I find it helpful to think of this as a project that requires management. I am writing everything down. I have lists of lists of what I need for insurance, what I need for my new apartment, and what I can't live without. Staying present, and focussing on my next step is all I can do. Slowly progressing on my personal timeframe is the only way forward.
oh lordy, thank goodness no one was hurt. Sending you lots of love and strength to get through this. I hope your new apartment soon feels like home. xx
I’m so sorry for your enormous loss.