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Loss (2) March 31, 2011

Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.
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Sioux and Duke and Aidan arrived late the next Friday night, this Friday just past—in fact, it was barely still Friday. They were staying for the weekend while they checked out their recently robbed home. We stayed up til 1:30 chatting over the requisite cava.

My guest room is in the front of the house, and all three guests were sleeping in there, Aidan on the floor. In the wee hours I heard the firehouse siren go off, but that isn’t unusual. I fell back asleep. In a half-slumber, I heard a lot of traffic passing the house. It was odd—more vehicles passed in an hour than usually do in a day. If no one had been in the guest room, I may have stumbled into it and peered out the window. But people were sleeping in there. At least, I hoped they were sleeping. I was feeling bad that they had to listen to traffic that never ever happens.

I couldn’t push my thought processes beyond that in my semiconscious state. Tim and I were trying to force ourselves out of bed to be decent hosts when the phone rang. And it wasn’t til I heard my friend Dan’s voice ask what was going on in Parts West that I realized something was very wrong. He said he’d heard the store burned down. That it was gone.

We had in fact all planned to walk there that very morning and pick up some scones or something for breakfast—something fast so that Sioux and Duke could get over to their house quickly.

All that traffic was fire truck after fire truck heading down the road to Angela’s ponds to fill up with water: down and back, down and back.

We went downstairs to get the coffee going and to put together a breakfast plan. We broke the horrifying news to our guests. Aidan, as soon as she was up and dressed, ran next door to be with her BFF Kristina, whose mother Lynda called as soon as she heard the news. We decided to all walk down together. I think we did that before breakfast. But it’s kind of a blur now.

The store is only about ten buildings north of where I live. It’s amazing we slept through it.

It was a cold and sunny day, very blue sky. When we walked out, we couldn’t see any smoke at all, but we could smell it. Sioux, Lynda, the three kids, and I walked down. I stopped at the post office to get as much info as I could. Will and Eric, who were living above the store for the winter, were going to be OK, but they’d had to jump from the second floor. They’d been taken to the hospital. Will had some smoke inhalation, Eric some burns. One of three dogs got out: Molly. The fire had started in the building next door.

Later we found out a man had died in that small building, a building with no heat, electricity, running water. A local person taking temporary shelter there. More tragedy.

The store is completely gone. We are all devastated. And I don’t think I can write any more about it. (If you haven’t read it already, see Lali’s eloquent post.) My heart breaks for all of us with the loss of this place. It breaks even more for Will and Eric.

Anyway, it’s been surreal and sad and awful. I was reading a post I wrote soon after they opened, three and a half years ago. I was so excited. And my last line? “A phoenix has risen from the ashes.”

 
[The robbery post script: At first, Sioux and Duke thought nothing was missing—things had just been tossed about. Then Sioux saw her grandmother’s comb and realized that the rest of the set—the silver-plated mirror and brush—was gone. It’s more of an emotional loss (the worst kind) than anything else. Perhaps they’ll discover other small things gone later, when they open the house and live in it awhile. But when there’s not much a thief can easily sell, not a lot goes missing.]

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Comments»

1. Craig (Maito Sewa Yoleme) - March 31, 2011

I hate this. Not the post, which is sad and perfect, but the terrible loss.

2. Bridgett - March 31, 2011

At my inlaws, talking with Aunt Sheila about nothing in particular, she mentions a backpack she used when her son was little to stash things in, nothing, really, just talking about kids and travel, and she catches herself. “Just realized we lost that in the fire, too.” Another kind of robbery.

This post made me cry. I hope they can rebuild things and recover. Both families.

3. Lali - March 31, 2011

It must have been awful, being so close to where it happened…and seeing the remnants every time you leave the house.

4. Mali - March 31, 2011

These two posts have made me very sad. I feel as if I know Sioux, and now Eric and Will too have lost so much. There’s been too much loss in the last month or so – I just want to cry “Enough!”

5. Dona - April 1, 2011

Not much I can say. I’m sorry about the fire and hope they can rebuild.

6. Deloney - April 2, 2011

I jusy read tgese twoi posts. Thiungs get so sad somtime you just want tot leave.

indigo bunting - April 2, 2011

D: Yes.

7. helen - April 3, 2011

Oh Indigo, I’m so sorry. Any one of the events you mention in this post would have been devastating on its own, but to have to deal with someone dying and two dogs dying and losing one’s home…

8. Damyanti - April 4, 2011

This is so sad. Sending good wishes your way and to everyone in this post.


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