Neighborhood house fire was little too close to home

A house on my street caught fire. I was at work, but my neighbor Marcene sent me a video message showing my house safe and our street clogged with firetrucks.

It was too close to home.

My small neighborhood is near Arizona State University, a mix of rentals and owner-occupied homes. The neighbors are mostly open-minded, big on dogs, bikes and the environment, politically and socially active.

They take care of one another. They walk people home from bars or late-night jobs. They collect food, clothes and school supplies. They search for stolen bikes, missing pets and lost wallets.

The news of the fire moved swiftly through the neighborhood. Within minutes, there was a plan. The couple who lives there got out safely and were taken to the hospital. Their dog and four of five cats are missing. Marcene had sprinted down the alley to open the back gate in hopes the animals would flee, but the gate was in flames.

The sight of the house now is overwhelming. I can’t imagine starting over.

Elizabeth Baker who lives one street over and whose house burned after an electrical fire in the alley last year told me how much our neighborhood did for her family.

Strangers brought meals, gift cards, clothes and sympathy. One woman came by with makeup, something Elizabeth hadn’t thought about; it offered a sense of normalcy at an unreal time.

“It meant the world,” Elizabeth said. “We are forever grateful.”

Preston asked for her advice and compiled a list: gift cards, reusable water bottles, personal hygiene supplies, over-the-counter medication, clothing, towels and sheets, housewares, phone chargers and, of course, makeup.

Maybe it was good, after all, that this had happened too close to home.