Smoke in the attic – South Platte Sentinel

I recently read a short story that an author wrote about how her house nearly burned down. About 13 years ago. On July 4th, our house had an almost disastrous fate.

Our youngest son Nick was single and lived alone. He came to visit in the afternoon. He stayed for dinner and enjoyed a home cooked meal.

After dinner, I put the leftovers and leftovers on a dirty plate. I went outside and hit a fork on the plate. Hannah, our German Shepherd, was familiar with this sound. She came running to devour her treat.

I noticed the smell of smoke, but I could tell it wasn’t a burning weed. I wasn’t familiar with the smell, but it seemed to be near our property.

I rushed in and exclaimed, “I smell something that is burning outside!”

Ben and Nick hurried outside. They smelled it too.

Nick remembered not turning off the exhaust fan in the bathroom. He ran into the bathroom and turned off the switch. “The blower fan is locked!” he cried. Ben quickly unscrewed the cover plate and ripped the hot engine from the ceiling.

Nick was convinced the smoke was coming through the attic. He quickly pulled down the ladder that led to the attic. Within seconds he shouted: “Call the fire department!”

My hands shook when I dialed our local volunteer fire department. A man answered immediately. I quickly gave him the address and the situation we were dealing with. He said they would be home with us shortly.

Nick had studied fire science in college but never got a job as a firefighter. He stayed in the attic to monitor the situation and was ready to take action if necessary.

I paced up and down and realized that every second was important. It seemed like it took the fire department forever to get to our house, which was two miles from town. They arrived with sirens wailing.

I opened the front door and several firefighters pushed a heavy hose through our living room. I directed them to the ladder that led to the attic.

Shortly afterwards, a firefighter carried smoldering insulation out of the door. She tossed it on the floor and hurried back to the attic. They sprayed a small amount of water on where the insulation had been and on a smoldering two by four.

While the firefighters were busy doing their job, I noticed a few cars slowly driving past our house. We knew they were rubberneckers.

The fire department soon got the crisis under control but stayed for a while to make sure nothing flared up again. Before they left, we thanked them warmly for the excellent job they did in saving our home.

There was water and blackened ash on the floor and the sink. I was exhausted when everything was tidied up.

Fortunately, I had gone outside to feed the dog and noticed the smell of smoke in the air.

Neither of us discovered it in the house.

It has been our “Home Sweet Home” for 30 years. Ben and I are grateful to God it wasn’t taken away from us on this fourth of July.

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