Well, I learned a valuable lesson last night (I guess it was this morning). At 4 am, Sean and I woke up startled by the sound of someone banging on the doors in our apartment complex. At first, we thought people were being loud and obnoxious so we tried going back to bed. Sean fell back asleep, but I kept hearing people yell and pound on doors. I was able wake up enough to hear someone yell "Police!" so I woke Sean up and he went to see what was going on. They were evacuating our entire apartment complex because of a fire. There was smoke everywhere; we could hardly see anything. The cops asked us to get what we needed and leave immediately. I ran around our apartment in circles looking like a mad woman in a sate of delirium panicking about what I needed to grab. Waking up at 4 am from police yelling at you to evacuate, with smoke surrounding you will really make you frantic. I started to plan how we could pack up our entire apartment, but Sean made me drop everything and leave. I grabbed my journal and my purse, Sean grabbed his wallet and iPad (isn't he thoughtful? it's okay, he's a dude) and we ran out the door. The cops told us to go to the park next to our apartment and wait for further instruction. Everyone was in their pajamas, wrapped up in blankets still trying to grasp what was going on. We stood there in the snow in 34 degree weather and I started to think about all the things in our apartment that I knew would be a tragedy to lose. Our brand new couches and flat screen TV crossed my mind, but those things can be replaced. I couldn't stop thinking about my family albums sitting on our bookshelf, the dried flowers Sean gave me throughout our year of dating that I couldn't throw away, letters from my parents, and Sean's box of mission journals and letters. I know my entire blog is filled with lame, corny posts, but last night at 4 am in the freezing cold, I learned what really matters. What matters is that my husband was safely next to me. What matters is old pictures, letters, and memories, not electronics and nice furniture. I was literally panicking because I knew I couldn't lose those things, but Sean calmed me down. The fire would really have to get out of control to reach our apartment on the top floor.
Three firetrucks, one ambulance, and so many cop cars I didn't care to count. I know this is the worst picture ever. It was dark, I only had my phone for a camera, and I really didn't care to get any closer to that awful smoke that burns your lungs. After standing in the cold for a while, a cop gathered us together, explained that we would probably have to find other living arrangements for a while, and walked us a few blocks to a church where we could wait in warmth for more information. Our apartment manager, Sam, is really awesome. He brought us donuts and water. After an hour and a half of waiting, we found out that there was a car fire in our parking garage. Someone stole a white truck, used it for some kind of an extensive burglary, then randomly parked in our garage and purposefully set on fire. Crazy. They were able to get it under control and our entire apartment complex was perfectly safe. How that happened, I don't know. Sean and I were certain we would at least have smoke damage. When we got back to our apartment, the outside smelled awful, but inside was completely untouched. We are pretty dang lucky if you ask me. We tried going back to bed, but we were too worked up so we watched infomercials because it's the only thing on TV at 7 am. I'm ashamed to say we almost bought an orGREENic frying pan, I think the smoke got to us. I'm just so happy that we didn't lose our priceless possessions. We are so blessed.