As I've written about before, when I was 10, my house burned down. The Cliff Notes version of the story is that the fire started in the garage in the middle of the afternoon as my brother and I were coming home from school. My mom ran into the house and called the fire department. While she was doing that and against her explicit instructions, I ran into the house and grabbed my green stuffed rabbit.
Now to be sure, when we re-entered our home, the fire was still contained in the garage, but that's no excuse. Fire is unpredictable.
We all got out safely, but our entering the house the one thing you should never do. Not ever. Let me repeat myself: Do not ever run into a burning building to retrieve anything. Well, anything except your child, parent, spouse, etc.
About an hour ago, while I was busy paying bills with The West Wing on in the background, I suddenly heard a very loud honking sound. Initially, I thought the noise was coming from the DVD, but then realized the sound was coming from the hallway of my condo building.
The noise was the fire alarm.
Still in my pj's at 2pm on Sunday, I changed clothes, put on shoes, tossed my laptop and all financial docs into my briefcase, grabbed my purse, winter coat and gloves, iPhone, and Bluetooth (plus chargers) and started to head out. Then I looked at Sammy and Zoey. I had to make a decision: attempt to get them into their crates and lug them and my other stuff down four flights of stairs or leave them here and hope the building wasn't really on fire.
I chose to leave them, but only because I was feeling confident I would see them shortly. The sprinklers weren't going off, so I figured the building wasn't on fire.
On my way out, I even stopped to lock my door. Because I was nervous, I fumbled with the keys.
It probably took me three to four minutes before I was ready to exit my condo.
This is where I failed.
If my building had been on fire, those three or four minutes could have been the difference between getting out and not.
All I needed to do was grab my purse, which was sitting on the table in front of me and get the heck out of my house in my pj's and flip flops.
Although the fire alarm was a false alarm, I learned a valuable lesson. I realized that I depend far too heavily on the fact that I have a corner unit and live immediately next door to a building exit. I have not planned for the possibility that I might not be able to leave the building through this exit. I'll create a plan tonight and then I'll practice it.
Always remember, when the fire alarm goes off, just get out. It's not the time to stop and pack bags. All the stuff is replaceable. And have a back-up exit plan. It could save your life.
Oh, by the way, I still have my green stuffed rabbit. He lives in the back of one of my dresser drawers. And yes, I thought about grabbing him too.
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Monday, April 23, 2012
What's for lunch? A PBJH&C Sandwich!
Today marks the 30th anniversary of my house burning down. I've written about the details before (here and here) so I won't repeat myself. Instead, let's talk about lunch.
Lunch is one of the three most important meals of the day. The other two, of course, are breakfast and dinner.
After our house burned, we spent a month or two living in the Arlington Park Hilton (later the Sheraton and now gone). Each morning as Dave and I got ready for school, I called the restaurant to order our brown bag lunches. And each day, I ordered the same thing: a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich for Dave and a Ham and Cheese with mayo, lettuce and tomato for me.
Typically, we'd pick up our individual lunches when we went down for breakfast and then hop in the cab to school, but on this particular morning, rather than fixing two bags of lunch, the kitchen sent us just one bag, but said both our lunches were inside. For some reason that day, Dave and I decided that rather than stay at school for lunch, we'd run home and have a picnic lunch with Mom, so I didn't bother to divide up our lunches at school.
Three hours later, Dave and I surprised our mom who was at the house with the contractor. She grabbed her lunch and we all spread a blanket out on the lawn to enjoy our lunch together. Unfortunately, our Norman Rockwell-ish lunch didn't last long.
I opened the bag of sandwiches Dave and I picked up at the hotel only to discover that not only were our Peanut Butter and Jelly and Ham and Cheese sandwiches wrapped together in one large piece of foil, but they also shared two slices of bread. That's right, we received two pieces of bread containing mayo on both slices, ham, cheese, peanut butter, jelly, lettuce and tomato.
Let me repeat myself: in spite of having made us the same two sandwiches every day for a month or more, for some reason on that morning, someone in the kitchen thought I was asking for one sandwich that contained mayo, peanut butter, jelly, ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato.
Once my mom got past being irritated at having to get us McDonald's for lunch because there was nothing else we could get fast enough and still get back to school on time, we all enjoyed a good laugh.
To this day, thirty years later, we still laugh about the day Dave and I shared a PBJH&C sandwich.
Lunch is one of the three most important meals of the day. The other two, of course, are breakfast and dinner.
After our house burned, we spent a month or two living in the Arlington Park Hilton (later the Sheraton and now gone). Each morning as Dave and I got ready for school, I called the restaurant to order our brown bag lunches. And each day, I ordered the same thing: a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich for Dave and a Ham and Cheese with mayo, lettuce and tomato for me.
Typically, we'd pick up our individual lunches when we went down for breakfast and then hop in the cab to school, but on this particular morning, rather than fixing two bags of lunch, the kitchen sent us just one bag, but said both our lunches were inside. For some reason that day, Dave and I decided that rather than stay at school for lunch, we'd run home and have a picnic lunch with Mom, so I didn't bother to divide up our lunches at school.
Three hours later, Dave and I surprised our mom who was at the house with the contractor. She grabbed her lunch and we all spread a blanket out on the lawn to enjoy our lunch together. Unfortunately, our Norman Rockwell-ish lunch didn't last long.
I opened the bag of sandwiches Dave and I picked up at the hotel only to discover that not only were our Peanut Butter and Jelly and Ham and Cheese sandwiches wrapped together in one large piece of foil, but they also shared two slices of bread. That's right, we received two pieces of bread containing mayo on both slices, ham, cheese, peanut butter, jelly, lettuce and tomato.
Let me repeat myself: in spite of having made us the same two sandwiches every day for a month or more, for some reason on that morning, someone in the kitchen thought I was asking for one sandwich that contained mayo, peanut butter, jelly, ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato.
Once my mom got past being irritated at having to get us McDonald's for lunch because there was nothing else we could get fast enough and still get back to school on time, we all enjoyed a good laugh.
To this day, thirty years later, we still laugh about the day Dave and I shared a PBJH&C sandwich.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Goodbye Sheraton Chicago Northwest (nee Arlington Park Hilton)
One more piece of my childhood is disappearing.
The Sheraton Chicago Northwest (formerly the Arlington Park Hilton) is closing on in a week. At least according to the Daily Herald.
To most people, this may not mean much, except for the loss of jobs and tax revenue in Arlington Heights, which to be sure are not insignificant and by no means am I minimizing.
But I've got a personal connection to the hotel. I used to live there.
When our house burned down in April 1982, we lived at the Hilton for much of the six months we were out of our home.
I remember having sleepovers in our suite with my girlfriends, taking a taxi to school in the morning, and having orange sherbet delivered from room service. I remember riding the elevator up and down each floor trying to sneak onto the penthouse level and spending hours upon hours in what I grew to refer to as "our pool." I remember sitting on the steps of the Cinderella Rockafella (the nightclub attached to the Hilton, more recently the training center for Allstate employees) with my friend Amy watching the high school kids arrive for their proms in their 1982 finest. I remember the night I was at the hotel alone while my parents were at a church meeting (I don't remember where Dave was) and I became sick, calling down to the front desk and a very nice woman helping me until my parents got back.
My favorite memory though is of the day I called the Apple Farm to order lunches, as I did ever day to place my order for "one turkey and cheese with mayo, lettuce and tomato and a peanut butter and jelly on wheat" and got it all between just two pieces of bread. One sandwich with turkey, cheese, mayo, lettuce, tomato, peanut butter and jelly. We still laugh about that.
Even after we moved out and moved back into our home, we often went back for Sunday brunch after church or for significant milestones. We even enjoyed Christmas dinner there in 1996.
Most people probably drive past the Sheraton and just see a large brick building. I drive by and see my former home; the place that kept my family together during one of the most challenging times of our lives and also gave us many happy memories. And I'm sad to see it go.
The Sheraton Chicago Northwest (formerly the Arlington Park Hilton) is closing on in a week. At least according to the Daily Herald.
To most people, this may not mean much, except for the loss of jobs and tax revenue in Arlington Heights, which to be sure are not insignificant and by no means am I minimizing.
But I've got a personal connection to the hotel. I used to live there.
When our house burned down in April 1982, we lived at the Hilton for much of the six months we were out of our home.
I remember having sleepovers in our suite with my girlfriends, taking a taxi to school in the morning, and having orange sherbet delivered from room service. I remember riding the elevator up and down each floor trying to sneak onto the penthouse level and spending hours upon hours in what I grew to refer to as "our pool." I remember sitting on the steps of the Cinderella Rockafella (the nightclub attached to the Hilton, more recently the training center for Allstate employees) with my friend Amy watching the high school kids arrive for their proms in their 1982 finest. I remember the night I was at the hotel alone while my parents were at a church meeting (I don't remember where Dave was) and I became sick, calling down to the front desk and a very nice woman helping me until my parents got back.
My favorite memory though is of the day I called the Apple Farm to order lunches, as I did ever day to place my order for "one turkey and cheese with mayo, lettuce and tomato and a peanut butter and jelly on wheat" and got it all between just two pieces of bread. One sandwich with turkey, cheese, mayo, lettuce, tomato, peanut butter and jelly. We still laugh about that.
Even after we moved out and moved back into our home, we often went back for Sunday brunch after church or for significant milestones. We even enjoyed Christmas dinner there in 1996.
Most people probably drive past the Sheraton and just see a large brick building. I drive by and see my former home; the place that kept my family together during one of the most challenging times of our lives and also gave us many happy memories. And I'm sad to see it go.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
It's Time to Fall Back!
Tonight is the end of Daylight Saving Time and the start of Standard Time or as we, at Little Merry Sunshine, prefer to call it "Night 24/7" because by the end of November, the sun will rise at 6:57am and set at 4:20pm leaving only approximately 9 hours of possible daylight.
What this means tonight is that you need to turn back your clocks 1 hour before you go to bed or you will oversleep for church or your other Sunday morning plans.
It is also highly recommended that tonight or tomorrow you also check the batteries in your smoke detectors. Personally, we change the batteries in our smoke detectors every 6 months and that's what we recommend here at Little Merry Sunshine.
We don't take the possibility of fire lightly because our house burned down in 1982. Everyone in the Little Merry Sunshine family got out okay because the fire was in the middle of the day. At the time, we only had one smoke detector located near the bedrooms. The fire started in the garage and spread to the attic. Had the fire happened at night, I don't know that we would have been so lucky because the lone smoke detector did not go off until the firemen were on the roof with chainsaws.
So change the batteries in your smoke detectors and have multiple detectors throughout your home.
And don't forget to change your clocks!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Finnerty Family Fundraiser
If you're from Arlington Heights, no doubt you've heard about this tragic story this week. Heck, if you're from the Chicago Area and you turned on the news or opened any newspaper, you probably saw it.
In an effort to help the two surviving young children of the fatal fire that killed both parents and one child on Tuesday, several downtown Arlington Heights businesses are sponsoring a fundraiser to benefit the trust fund established for them on Friday (tomorrow). If you need anything that these stores sell now or will need their products in the near future, I encourage you to do your shopping on Friday.
Participating merchants are:
Donations can be sent to:
Village Bank & Trust
311 S. Arlington Heights Rd.
Arlington Heights, IL 60005
Please make checks payable to "Jennifer Murphy, Guardian of the Finnerty Children."
In an effort to help the two surviving young children of the fatal fire that killed both parents and one child on Tuesday, several downtown Arlington Heights businesses are sponsoring a fundraiser to benefit the trust fund established for them on Friday (tomorrow). If you need anything that these stores sell now or will need their products in the near future, I encourage you to do your shopping on Friday.
Participating merchants are:
- Bentley's Corner Barkery
- Campbell Street Bicycle Shop
- Ciao Bella - A Shoe Boutique
- Flaherty Jewelers
- Runners High 'n Tri
- Tuscan Market, Wine Shop & Wine Bar
Donations can be sent to:
Village Bank & Trust
311 S. Arlington Heights Rd.
Arlington Heights, IL 60005
Please make checks payable to "Jennifer Murphy, Guardian of the Finnerty Children."
Friday, April 24, 2009
I Was Eloise
All day long I've been trying to figure out how to properly acknowledge today, the day my house burned down in 1982. I'm not going to retell the whole story, but you can read here. A few minutes ago, I was reminded about the only cool part of the entire ordeal:
I got to be a 10 year old diva at the Arlington Park Hilton for the better part of about 5 months.
Yes, I was Eloise.
Eloise you'll recall is a 6 year old fictional girl who lives at The Plaza Hotel in New York City. Eloise is quite precocious and finds herself in the midst of all sorts of adventures (read: trouble), just as I did.
Live at the Hilton was quite good. We had a suite of rooms - two bedrooms with a huge sitting room in the middle. The sitting room, which was more like a super-sized den, complete with wet bar and gigantic bathroom containing a tub with the cool jets. I wouldn't call it a hot tub or whirlpool, but it was cool. Someone made my bed everyday and left clean towels and fun little shampoos and soaps.
As Dave and I got ready for school each day, I would call the hotel restaurant, The Apple Farm, and order lunches that would be ready when we arrived for breakfast. On more than a few occasions, breakfast consisted of orange sherbet and a handful of apple-flavored Jolly Ranchers from the candy dish on the way out of the restaurant. Then we were whisked off to school via cab.
At night we'd run all around the hotel and swim in the pool and never got in any trouble because everyone knew us.
I had slumber parties with my girlfriends and remember one especially fun weekend sitting at the entrance of the Cinderella Rockafella (a nightclub type place attached to the Arlington Park Hilton) watching all the couples arrive for the Arlington High School Prom. We thought they were so sophisticated and beautiful and wanted to grow up to be that cool at our prom.
Yes, life at the Hilton was good and I wanted for nothing. As good as it was, however, I was never so happy as I was the day we finally moved back into our rebuilt house.
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