Burning Down The House

"Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?" Hebrews 1:14

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It was late morning on my summer vacation and my Mom was calling home from her office. "Hi Mom."

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"Hi honey. Can you do me a favor and pick up Letty from her dance class, down at Dover and Hendrix Park?" Mom asked. I said, "Sure, no problem." I had just pulled out the last batch of beer battered onion rings, I was frying on the stove.

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Having enough credits to graduate and running out of fun electives to take in my senior year, I thought it would be a kick to take Home Economics. I tried out my beer battered onion rings on the family a few nights prior and they were a hit. Everyone loved them. I decided to make some for myself that morning because the rings where such a hit the other night and there weren't many left for me , once I finished cooking for everyone else.

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Driving home with Letty, I was stunned when we turned on to our street and I saw the pillar of thick black smoke billowing out of the kitchen roof of our house. At 17 with a few emergency experiences under my belt, I wasn't surprised by my reaction to a make or break moment. Some people panic and make hasty poor decisions or freeze and make no moves at all from the shock. Others like me "get low" when in crises mode. We tend to go in the opposite direction of the perceived exigency by becoming very mellow, very focused and totally fearless. The old saying, "My life flashed before my eyes" makes more sense to this type of person when time seems to play out like a slow motion replay on football Sunday.
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Some wiser people than me would say my subsequent actions were hasty poor decisions when it came to my life versus a replaceable home but to be tagged for the rest of my life as the one that fried our house down, that was more than I was willing to bear.

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As we came down the long driveway I said to my sister, "Letty as fast as you can, sprint into the guest house and call 911 and then call Mom." Remembering a Fire Marshall's instructions from my elementary days about smoke characteristics, I hit the floor as soon as I came through the back kitchen door. Two feet up from the floor there was a smoke free zone that allowed me to shimmy on my belly across the kitchen floor to the stove area. I could see flashes of huge flames wicking up through the smoke above the stove cabinet. I swung open the cabinet and grabbed the largest pot I could find and slid over to the sink area as fast as I could. Pausing for a split second that seemed like an eternity, I gathered my thoughts and then took in as much oxygen as I could before leaping to my feet, turning on the faucet full blast and flinging the water towards the wood cabinets above the stove in what seemed like one single motion. I kept this up for as long as my lungs would hold out, and then hit the deck again for air before returning to the fight.
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The next thing I knew I was laying on the back lawn gasping for air as my tearful sister consoled me. I now heard the siren's wail increase as the Fire Department's engines roared into our driveway. As I recovered on my own I'll never forget the Captain's face as he informed us that in his 20 years with the department, he had never seen anything like what he witnessed in that kitchen. He said, "As a precaution we tore a hole in the roof and doused the attic above the kitchen and blasted the cabinets from below, but we never once saw a flame even though the fire had burned through the cabinets and had apparently just entered the attic space from the appearance of the charred rafters. A few seconds more and this entire house would've been engulfed in flames once it entered that attic space." Just then our Mom came running up to us crying and hugged us very tightly as she made sure we weren't injured.

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As the firemen mopped up and placed huge fans throughout the house, I could overhear the Captain helping my cause of redemption by telling Mom, "Your son single-handedly with a pot, put out a grease fire that normally takes a team of firefighters to extinguish, only if they happen to be there when the fire starts! He saved this house."

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During an obligatory small lecture from the Captain about the value of my life outweighing that old structure, I could still see a slight smile and twinkle in his eye that conveyed, "Job well done." So I guess as far as my parents were concerned, going from dog house to hero, it was kind of a wash, because it was never talked about again. From then on the only feedback I ever got was a chuckle and a look, whenever onion rings were ever mentioned.

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That I could handle.

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I thank the Lord that my guardian angels were with me in Hell's Kitchen that day. I didn't deserve help and I certainly didn't earn the protection by my faith. It was only through God's grace and mercy that I can even sit here today and type about this miracle in my life before I became a "sold out" for Jesus believer. I guess he always knew I'd eventually come around with a few extra chances.

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On Second thought, make that a lot of chances.