The Fire at Redwood Apartments

My neighbor's apartment caught fire on May 7, 2016.

It was the same day my sister got married.

A crazy lady named Virginia (who is certifiable, to say the least) was living in Apartment 22 with Mr. Tom, who was handicapped, because he did not need to live alone due to health problems. He is unable to get around well. She apparently started the fire with hot grease on the stove, and rather than grab the fire extinguisher that was on top of the refrigerator four feet away, she ran out of the apartment to knock on doors and ask for salt to put on the fire. She came back into the house that was smoking so much by then that you couldn't see much, and threw the salt on it, then took her chair outside and sat down two feet from the door.

I was in my pajamas (it was my day off after the wedding), and playing a nice game of Fallout: NV in Apartment 24. My neighbor who lived in 23 begin yelling (which was nothing new, so at first I ignored it) for everyone to get out. Then I smelled smoke.

I jumped up, put on sweats and a cotton shirt and my shoes, grabbed my purse (because my ID was in it and I didn't want to lose it) and phone and went to stand by my room mate, Liz, who had just come out of her boyfriend's apartment to witness the show.

Virginia sat in her chair just two feet from the door. She was yelling at my neighbor in 23 that the fire was out. She actually acted perturbed. She actually thought that throwing salt on the fire and coming outside to wait for the smoke to clear worked. My apartment manager came out and asked her if Mr. Tom had oxygen in the apartment. The smoke was getting thicker. by now you could hear the crackle. She said it was in her purse.

I immediately grabbed her purse, and her by her arm to force her to move away from the door of the apartment, telling her, "THAT is smoke, Virginia. There is a FIRE in there. You and the oxygen need to MOVE." The apartment manager's dog came and bit me on the arm.

I honestly don't believe he meant to hurt me. Everyone was stressed. He wasn't growling. His tail was tucked between his legs. But I felt the pressure on my upper arm and yelled, "OUCH, Singer, that HURT!"

Another neighbor, Mr. Victor, ran in to grab Mr. Tom (who was asleep on the couch when all of this started), and brought him out. As soon as he exited the apartment, Singer grabbed him, too. If Singer was trying to hurt me, I imagine my arm would have looked a whole lot worse.

The Apartment manager grabbed the dog and went to contain him.

Before the fire department could arrive, it started spreading through the roof to neighboring apartments. I just knew that it was God's way of telling me it was time to move. I guess I started weighing my options out loud, while my roommate, Liz, covered her eyes, shaking in disbelief. "I have money in the bank. I still owe Mr. Ed, but I can pay him and move back in at Oak Street. He done said I could." The apartment manager walks over to me and says, "You could move into 16" (a different building altogether in the complex.

I called my mom, who was still at the reception down the road, and she and my stepdad were there within five minutes.

Then, when the fire department finally arrived, I remembered that my babydogs were still in the apartment. I nudged Liz to help me get the dogs to safety. The Fireman ran to stop me from going into the apartment and I told him, "I just want to get my dogs out." He let me.

The smoke started spreading through the roof to several apartments down. The fire department had to tear holes in my ceiling in order to contain the fire. My stepdad offered to go get the truck and a dolly to get my stuff out, particularly my food and my freezer after the fire was put out. I accepted, and I accepted their invitation to let me go to their house to spend the night, since I wouldn't be able to sleep in my apartment.

We watched wondering what we were going to do. Would our stuff survive? All we had worked so hard for; all God had given us... I heard God speaking to me through all of that saying that it was going to be alright.

I hugged my roommate and told everyone there, "When God speaks, you have no choice but to move on it. You may as well go with it and count your blessings."

My mom said, "We won't have a problem remembering this day. One daughter gets married on the same day other is driven from her home due to a fire, the day before Mother's Day."

Liz planned to stay with her boyfriend. I just laughed when the apartment manager asked me what I was going to do, and said, "God is telling me to spend Mother's Day with Mom."

I was reminded of the story of Jonah and the Whale. When God wants you to move on something, He makes it happen.

When the fire was put out, I was fortunate to find that all of my stuff was saved, except for the smokey smell. But, the ruined ceiling and no electricity made it impossible for me to live there now. We moved my deep freezer to my room mate's boyfriend's apartment temporarily, along with my food. She agreed to keep the dogs safe while I went to mom's. I grabbed some clothes to wash and went to mom's.

All I could think about was the song that Brother Matthew had taught us the Wednesday night before in church: