Fire November 20, 1997

It is amazing how your whole world can change in one day. That day for me was Sunday November 30, 1997. The most terrifying days sometimes start off the most pleasant. It was a gorgeous morning with the sun shining the temperature at 56 degrees, an extremely warm temperature for a November day in northwest Wisconsin. My family arrived back form church in high spirits. The morning had gone well. My sisters Emily, Carrie and I had been practicing for the Christmas show and after church we went grocery shopping and bough some pizzas for lunch.

I was 12 years old at the time. I had long blond hair, light brown eyes and s slim body. In my family there were seven of us. I had both my parents Holt and Carole Walker, my older brothers, Norman at 20, and Colin at 18; and my two younger sisters, Emily at 10 and Carrie at 7. We were all there that day, except Norman who lived in a town and hour away.

We came up the driveway, drove by the side of our home, turned around the light post in the middle of our yard and stopped in front of our house. As we got out of the van, Dad told us not to go in without carrying some groceries. All of us helped haul them onto the small deck in front of our door, and we prepared to bring them inside while chatting away about the events of the morning.

Our home was on an acre that used to be a farm. There were a couple ancient sheds, a pole barn that was rented out to a local farmer, a bunkhouse where our landlord would come to stay during hunting season, and a large gray barn that looked as if it would topple over with the slightest breeze. All the buildings were situated in a circle as though it were a wagon train preparing itself for an Indian attack. Our house was a typical old-fashioned farmhouse, white with green trim- badly in need of a paint job. It was somewhat like a haven from the outside world being seven miles from town and surrounded by the cornfields. It was a sanctuary that would soon cease to exist for us.

Colin and I walked to the front door and while balancing groceries one of us opened it. What met our eyes were gray walls where our white spotless walls had been, the smell that attacked our senses was so unlike the kind bond fires we were used to. All chatter within me stopped as I looked at the walls. The seconds of silence seemed like an eternity as I tried to register in my mind what was wrong. Suddenly I yelled out. “Mom, Dad, the walls are all gray!” The groceries were dropped as my parents and sisters ran to the door. Shock and horror spread across all of our faces as we looked inside.

“Oh, no what happened?” someone yelled. The comments after that were jumbled as we failed miserable to stay calm.

“It smells like smoke!”

“Could there be a fire inside?”

“This couldn’t have happened!”

“We need to figure out if the fire is still going on inside,” Dad stated logically. I felt the pit of my stomach twisting as I tried to get my emotions under control. We were all too shocked to cry; we just stood there like dead men. No emotions except horror showed on our faces.

Dad and Colin started to look around the outside of our home, trying to figure out what happened or was still happening without having to go inside. Mom, Emily, Carrie and I just stood there, gazing into the entryway. The entrance was small directly inside the door was a staircase that led to the basement and to the left was three stairs that led up to the kitchen. I could smell the smoke inside and heard a faint sound of water running.

Dad and Colin came back declaring that there was not any fire burning from what they could tell. They decided to go inside and open up some windows. I felt fear grip my heart. I did not want them to go inside, only to find out there still was something burning and have it be too late. Dad went in first going to check out the basement. As Colin started to go in, I caught his sleeve.

“Don’t go in Colin.” I said pleadingly.

“I have to Hillary. We have to get it aired out.” He replied.

“Be careful!” I yelled as he walked up the stairs to the kitchen.

The few minutes we waited for them to come back out felt like forever. I prayed silently, asking God to keep them safe. I looked up to the second floor, directly above our front deck was a solitary door where a deck used to be, but had fallen years ago. As my gaze shifted over the front of the house the door suddenly opened and Colin leaned out coughing trying to breathe some fresh air into his lungs.

“Are you ok?” one of us yelled up to him.

“Yes, I am.” He replied, “I’ll be right down.”

Dad and Colin both emerged out of the house, looking no worse for the wear; we prepared for their report. Dad, looking like a doctor preparing to give a severe diagnosis, started “The basement has a couple feet of water in it; I really don’t know how that happened. I am not even sure where the firs started. Nothing appears to be burned, but everything is covered in smoke soot, everything!” His face looked grave as he gave the last statement. Colin then gave and interesting report, “The garbage can in the kitchen melted into a blob of plastic!” that was so amusing we almost smiled, almost, but our circumstances were too dark at the moment.

After talking with Mom a second, Dad looked at Colin and said “Colin we need you to take the girls in the van and go to the neighbor’s house and call 911. Mom and I will stay here. Please call the Marsh’s too and tell them what happened.” The Marshs were friends from our church who lived about 6 miles away. Their two daughters Stasha and Carissa were friends of Emily and I.

We piled into the can and rove to our neighbor’s house down the road, about a mile away. We knocked on the door and explained our situation. They were very comforting and graciously let us use their phone. Colin called 911 and then our friends. I waited silently by the phone wondering how my friends would react to the news. Colin hung up and told us that they had invited us over if we wanted to come. I hoped that my other friend Joanna would be there, she was planning on visiting them that day.

We drove back to our home and waited outside for the firefighters to arrive. Slipping away form everyone, I went to our van, which Colin had parked out of the way so when the fire tricks arrived there would be enough room for them. Our can was a very old brown caravan that we had bought from a friend. It had a gloomy interior appearing even darker by my mood. I sat in the back seat, my gaze sweeping over inside, not really looking at anything in particular just thinking that these where the only possessions I had left in the world added to my grief. I gently took out my bible and held it to my chest. I could not contain the tears any longer, nor could my heart remain calm.

“Why did you let this happen God? Why?” I asked in a desperate voice. “I don’t understand! Did we do something wrong? Lord, I wish You would tell me. I wish I could understand.” My vision blurred as the tears started to come more freely. I knew I had no right to question God. I had learned that from an early age, but the questions still came. I could not contain the fears that welled up inside of me, or the sorrow of not knowing what to do. I was glad no one was there to see me cry. After a couple minutes my cries started to subside as I sat there looking at the roof of the van. “Please watch over us God,” I began to say, “Help us. We need you so much right now.”

The peace still did not come, but I somehow received some strength to go out and face what was happening. I wiped my face with my hands and stepped out of the van.

I went over and stood by Colin and my sisters, they were sitting on an old white car we had facing our house. The fire trucks started to arrive. One pulled all the way in front of our house and three more filled the driveway. Then like bees in a beehive, the firefighters swarmed the area going in and out of our house. We waited silently outside as they did their work. We sat on the car and watched the firemen in action, as though it was a movie or TV show, but not real life. None of us spoke except for and occasional sentence about the trucks or the firefighters, speaking about it seemed to make it too real, when all we wanted it to be was a dream.

Dad came over and told us that he and mom decided to have Colin take us over to the Marsh’s house so they could handle and the necessary arrangements that needed to be made. I was so relieved, I did not want to stay around and look at our house anymore it was too depressing I wanted to go and be with my friends, maybe they would add some brightness to my smoke colored day. Colin and us girls got into the van and drove to their home. As we pulled into their familiar driveway I felt a little weird. How would my friends react to this?

We stopped in front of their house, went up to the door, and walked inside without knocking; we knew we would be welcome. In a couple seconds our friends Stasha, Carissa and Joanna surrounded us. Their sympathy showed on their faces.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” Stasha told me as we hugged each other. We told them as much s we knew about the situation and they brought us girls into their bedroom. Colin stayed to talk to Stasha’s parents.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Joanna the loud one of our friends said rather gently.

“No.” I replied. My sisters appeared to have the same opinion as we sat down in their bedroom. My wonderful friends tried to cheer us up with games, and things to play with, but we couldn’t smile, no matter how hard we tried. We were sprawled on their pink carpet when it became quiet. My poor friends did not really know what to do with us. How do you talk to a friend when a part of their world has died? Whether it be a person, or like us a home. It did not help that my sisters and I did not want to be happy or cheered up. It was somewhat comforting to just wallow in our misery.

I finally couldn’t contain myself anymore and I started to cry, nothing dramatic just small tears that rolled slowly down my face. I looked to see Emily and Carrie starting as well, as though they were taking their cue from me. “I am just so scared,” I told my friends, “what are we going to do?” where are we going to live?”

I then heard the words my dear friend Joanna that would forever be imprinted in my mind, whenever I thought about that day. She said in a soft voice, “Don’t worry Hillary; God will take care of you.” I realized the truth in her words, God would protect us. Just as He always had and always will. During the days of clean up and work that followed, I remembered those words. Keeping them in my heart, they gave me strength to endure all the hardships that came.

We found out later that His hand was already present and working in the circumstances of that day. The fire had started in the corner of our basement from faulty electrical wiring. The flames grew so hot that they melted a water pipe, which put out the fire before spreading anywhere else in the house. A friend in the building business later told us that no hear, except perhaps a blowtorch could not melt that kind of pipe.

After the fire we remembered that Colin had wanted to stay home that morning from church, he had worked late the night before and was tired. My parents however insisted that he come to church with us. I shudder now at the thought of what might have happened if Colin and slept in that morning. Could the smoke that was pumped through the house by our heating system have killed him? Was it God that made my parents insist that he come with? Was it God that increased the heat of the fire to such a magnitude that it would melt a pipe that was supposedly unable to be melted? I believe that God did do this for us. I no longer question why God let the fire happen to our family. If we had gone on to live our normal lives we would never had the courage to move to the city where we live now. I have had so many opportunities here in Minneapolis Minnesota, many that I would not have had at all living in a little town in Wisconsin. The number of close friends I have gained are without measure. The many ways that I have found new talents, learned more about myself, and learned more about God.

I suppose the worst day of my life was the day my life changed for the better. I can honestly say I would not go back and change it for the world!