No one deserves tragedy. Regardless of whether you’re a sinner or a saint, a prince or a pauper, tragic events never occur on the basis of merit.
Sunday, February 14, when I was 6 years old, we were sitting in worship when one of the ushers came forward and told my family we needed to step outside for a moment. He told my parents that our house was on fire. A neighbor had called the fire department and, knowing where we went to church, called the church. (Ah, the days before cell phones.) We returned home to find that the fire had mostly been extinguished, but one end of our house was a burned-out shell and much of the rest of the house suffered smoke damage.
Sunday, November 30, 20 years, 9 months, and 16I days later, as my parents were driving home to Virginia after visiting my wife Becky and me in Indiana for Thanksgiving, it happened again.
My parents had only been on the road for about an hour when the call came in, this time via cell phone. A neighbor had seen the fire and called 911, but did not know how to reach my family. Another neighbor saw the fire and called yet another neighbor still, who had my Dad’s number.
Receiving the news that your home is on fire is a devastating thing that no one should ever have to bear, even once, let alone twice, in their lives. Yet this actually makes three times for my family. Let me explain: this past March, as high winds whipped across southwest Virginia, a pine tree snapped and fell on a power line, igniting a forest fire. Hardly a month after the 20-year anniversary of our first house fire my parents got word while they were away on a Boy Scout activity that the woods surrounding their house were ablaze. Upon returning home they discovered the house was safe, but the fire had come within 6 feet of a large propane tank and their recently-built barn.
This, the third time they received a call regarding fire and their home, has turned out to be the worst by far.
Pictures
My brother, who lives nearby, got to the house shortly thereafter and took the first pictures we were able to see. Though you couldn’t see much for all the steam and smoke, you can tell that the house was lost.
(The full photo album, including hi-res versions of these pictures, is available here.)
Later conversations with firefighters revealed that the house was almost totally engulfed when they arrived. Surprisingly they were able to save the barn, which sits only 8-10 feet from the house.
My parents finally made it back to what used to be their home at about 10pm. It was then that it began to fully sink in the totality of the destruction.
The next morning, upon returning to the house with some friends, they found that the fire had re-ignited, as if to add insult to injury. The fire department was called once again to put out the flames that threatened what little was left standing from the day before.
Looking through the pictures that my parents have shared, every now and then I get a brief flashback from our first fire. I don’t remember much at all from then, but something about seeing the charred shell of the house, all of the ashes and rubble, occasionally jolts my memory.
It is difficult to look at the pictures and try to remember the way things used to look. Where once stood my childhood bedroom there is now nothing but ash and the springs from a mattress. No walls, no furniture, just destruction.
Appliances were piled on the back deck, the deck which I remember helping my family and friends build.
My father’s office, filled with computers, monitors, printers, and countless parts, is just a collection of disfigured metal shelving and computer cases. Anything plastic seems to have simply vanished.
Though they still await the final inspection, it is believed the fire may have begun around the propane furnace. We found out the neigbor who called 911 came to the house and knocked on doors and windows to see if my parents were at home, and turned off the propane at the tank, which may have helped to save the barn from burning as well.
My mother’s car, which was parked next to the house, was also damaged. A side window busted, the windshield cracked, and the side mirror melted. Both sets of keys to their third vehicle were all inside the house as well.
What’s next
Now begins the long process of greiving, recovering, and rebuilding. Mom and Dad have been surrounded with love and support from the many communities they are a part of, especially their church. Many of their friends from church walked with them through this 20 years ago.
They are staying nearby with friends for the time being, and intend to find a house to rent before Christmas. Since they had been visiting us they had more with them than they might have been able to save otherwise, including their laptop computers, quite a few clothes, and their dog.
The insurance company has been very helpful thus far and based on past experience will likely continue to be. After a final inspection of the house my parents will begin to literally sift through the ashes in search for anything that might be salvageable. It won’t be an entirely unfamiliar undertaking for them, though this time there will be much less that is saved.
I am thankful that so many people have showered them with support, love, and prayers in the midst of this tragedy, especially with being so far away myself. I anticipate going home at Christmas; I don’t know that there’s much that me being there now would accomplish. Becky and I have spent a lot of time on the phone with them the past couple days and I’m sure we’ll continue to talk with them a lot, giving them both support and listening ears to process things.
Many people have expressed a desire to help out somehow. We’re still working on figuring out what help is needed and how all of us can best lend our support. One of the things my parents have suggested is that anyone who might have old pictures of our family, either from family events, Boy Scouts, school, marching band, etc. can scan those pictures for them as a way to begin to piece together some of the irreplacable things that were lost. As I find out more ways to help, I’ll be sure and post them here on my blog, on facebook, and maybe even on twitter.
The “God Question”
Being a person who spends quite a bit of time thinking about faith, God, and life, it seems unsurprising that I’ve thought a lot about where God is in the midst of such tragedy.
It is tempting to see events such as this as divine retribution for things we’ve done wrong, or a sign of some sort. Some might even see it as a positive gift from God, a chance to cleanse and purge all of the excess stuff from life and start anew. Both of these assume that God was behind this tragedy, that God caused it for some divine purpose.
But that’s not how I see it. I don’t think God causes tragedy. I don’t think God causes babies to die, car accidents to take the lives of teenagers, hurricanes and tsunamis to destroy entire cities, or propane furnaces to malfunction and burn down houses. I simply don’t believe that is how God works. The world we live in is an imperfect place where unexplainable tragedies are an unfortunate part of life.
The way I see it, when such awful things happen, God may not be the force that causes them, but God is actively walking beside us, supporting us, and helping us to rise from the ashes. It is with the help of God that people are able to forgive someone who killed one of their family members. It is by God’s work in our lives that we are able to find a kernel of hope in the midst of great loss. God is with us in the darkest hour and points us toward the light of a new day. God accompanies us as we sort through the rubble, cries with us in our pain, and gives us strength to face tomorrow.
No one deserves tragedy. Not my family, not yours, no one. It is my hope and prayer that in the midst of this tragedy, as in all tragedies, that those of us who are hurting, mourning, and feeling helpless will feel the presence of the Divine Comfortor with us, walking with us into tomorrow, whatever tomorrow may bring.
Ed & Susan, Matt & Becky,
This blog is eloquent in reporting details and thoughtful in the reflection. I’m so sorry, and can only feel a portion of the loss, but I feel it nonetheless.
Peace,
Amy
Matt, thank you so much for sharing from your heart here! your honest reflection is quite meaningful.
this tragedy in your family’s life, in each of your lives, is senseless and terrible. and even though you (and all of us!) get to learn so much from this, i can’t fathom it as part of any divine plan. it’s hard for me to relate to that version of God as comforting, but i realize many people do. i hope you will each have the space to move through these tensions and confusions, surrounded by love!
Dear Ed and Susan, Matt and Becky,
Our entire family mourns the loss of your home and all that it means to you. There is no way to replace what is lost by fire but many ways to undertake the process of grief and recovery.
When I was four years old, our family home in Detroit also caught on fire, destroying the back half of the house while all of our family emerged safely. (If not for our vigilant German shepherd who awakened us with his barking, we would not have known what was happening.) We certainly did not lose all our belongings but I remember well the sense of vulnerability that arose in the aftermath of that event. I hope that you are surrounded by many who support you and help care for your needs, just as the prayers of our family surround you. May we all grow in compassion for others as this season of Advent reminds us of God’s own vulnerability and mercy.
We send you our love,
Dawn, Mark
Isaac, Sophie and Aidan
Ottoni Wilhelm
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