360 in 365

The date of December 10th is as etched into my mind as September 11th is in the collective American's. Standing in the tool department of Sears, I answered a phone call I would have never expected. The voice on the other end was that of my neighbor, with a tremble that I will never forget. When I think about them today, the words that came out of her mouth still send shudders down my spine, as they did a year ago.

"Scott, this is your neighbor, Shelly. You need to come home. Your house is on fire."

Thankfully at that time, I still had a fast car. Adrenaline was pumping through as I made record time home, beating my neighbor (Shelly's husband, Lance) home. Lance was closer to the house, and left before me. We never did figure out how I arrived first.

When I finally made it home (record time seemed to take longer than it takes to drive to Denver), I was in awe. I never expected to see what I saw; I didn't know what to expect. Three ladder trucks, two water trucks, an ambulance or two, Suburbans, Chief's Crown Vic's, rescue trucks, and other miscellaneous fire trucks were stacked in front of our house. Even more trucks arrived after I did. Trucks and emergency personnel from five departments helped that day. Five.

After comforting my mom (my words flowed out as if on cue), I went outside to look at the house. I found the first firefighter available, and asked him if he had seen my dog. He had not. I pointed to where in the house I thought he would be, and he told me dogs were inherently survivalistic. He said "they tend to find their way out of trouble." I knew this was a lie, but it was comforting to hear there was some hope. Too bad. Poor little guy. Rascal.

Tonight my parents are hosting a party for everyone in the company that helped us rebuild our house. We are eternally grateful for their sacrifices and courage (true), as well as their unwavering support for us at our worst.
I know they may never read this, or at least in this online form, but a big, honest, and tearful THANK YOU to the firefighters, employees of Fireworks, friends, family, neighbors, coworkers, and people in the shadows who helped my family and me get back on our feet. These people come out of the woodwork. It's comforting to realize that humans are inherently good. They are.