After Tragic Fire, Bree Family Still has Hope

Unless you’ve experienced a significant fire, you really have no idea the feeling of helplessness, devastation, loss and confusion you feel. You grieve for what you've lost, salvage what you can, and try to start to rebuild. This is my recollection of my experience with the fire at my home recently in Grand Terrace. Martin Luther King Monday was a pretty ordinary day. My husband worked on Union business and was washing clothes. I was watching a marathon of Dogs with Jobs on Netflix and trying to give equal attention to my eldest daughter Jessica's two kittens, Katniss and Primrose, who were rescued from being tied in a plastic bag and placed in a trash bin. The eldest cat, Cuja, was outside prowling the neighborhood. My daughter Jessica's dog, Miss Eevee, and puppy, Miss Athena, my youngest daughter Melissa's dog, Mr. Chewy, my husband Cal's puppy, Mr. Scamp, and my dog Miss Hunny were all out back getting some exercise and playing. By the grace of God, both daughters were out. It was starting to get late, about 6:35 p.m., when my husband went out to the garage, retrieved a load of laundry, and put a load into the wash. He sat down in his recliner and started to doze off. I figured a quick cat nap could do him some good before he had to leave for his graveyard shift at work that night. I got up and went to my room to use the bathroom and get my purse so I could leave right after my husband to take back a couple Red Box movies. While I was in the bathroom, I heard what sounded like four slams against the common wall between both bathrooms. I assumed my husband had woke up and was trying to scare me from the other bathroom, but then there was silence. Usually he laughs or says something; we prank each other rather commonly. This was strange, so I hurried and washed up to go see what was going on since he hadn't said anything. When I opened the door to the bathroom, I smelled smoke. I knew there was a fire nearby. Just then my husband yelled at me to call 911, the house was on fire. Our house. As I dialed I tried to contain my fear, and concentrate on listening for my husband. The dispatcher answered and I immediately relayed the information: we had a fire at my address. At that moment I heard my husband come back into the house and yell, "We needed to get out, now!" As I have lived with severe rheumatoid arthritis for 23 years, my mobility is limited so I walk slowly. I usually use canes or my walker. They all were in my car, in the garage. My husband helped me get outside as I was still talking to a 911 dispatcher. The eaves leading up our walkway to the front door caught fire as I was walking under them. Looking up I realized I was in serious danger and started to cross the lawn the best I could. My husband had left me to try to re-enter the house to get his keys to move his truck. As I crossed my lawn, I looked back to see not only my garage (with my Toyota Highlander LE) engulfed in flames, but so was my husband Cal's Chevy S10, daughter Jessica's Prius that was bought in May 2014, and daughter Melissa's Toyota Corolla on fire. By that time Cal had returned to help me get to safety, and he realized there was nothing he could do to save our vehicles. We watched our home, our memories, burn as the fire fighters showed up. It was devastating. As the firefighters worked the fire, I could hear our dogs, confused, scared, crying and barking. Cal kept assuring me they were in the back yard, away from the flames. Unbeknownst to me, our neighbor from behind, Mike Raya, had jumped our back wall and was trying to get our dogs out of the smoke-filled yard. He had posted on the 92313 Facebook group for help. Our neighbors all stepped up and were trying to help us. I wish I knew all their names to thank them. Some came with chairs so we could sit. Some brought blankets and wrapped them around me. Someone brought water. Mike showed up with some of our dogs. The others were gathered up by more neighbors. Bobbie Forbes, who was the one that sold us our house, showed up with cages and leashes. My father, who lives the next street over, had bought leashes and had a few of the dogs. My husband, not even realizing his foot was burned from embers on the lawn, was still walking around barefoot trying to assist the firefighters with information as to what happened. I saw someone with a large video camera recording the fire but I'm not sure who he was affiliated with as he never approached us. My husband was approached by a few construction companies vying for business as our home was still burning. We were warned it would be worse the following morning. The firefighters worked valiantly to rescue my little Pomeranian dog, who in the confusion, actually ran into the burning house and under my bed as firefighters went in. She bit a few of them as they tried to reach her. Eventually, my daughter Jessica, who cut her trip to Disneyland short and came home, was able to go in and get her, assisted by the firefighters. Sadly, she wasn't able to search for her kittens as it still wasn't completely safe. As the fire was put out, the fire inspector investigated. His report was available Monday, Feb. 2. His preliminary report that night indicated he suspected the dryer had caused the fire. The Fire Captain recommended we try and lock up the best we can to prevent looters or squatters. Sound advice considering some girl in a truck drove by repeatedly and when confronted to state her business at 4 a.m., claimed she was worried about her friend who lived there. Seeing as she was speaking to someone who knows our family and she couldn't come up with a name, she sped off. I was safely at my parents' the next street over as my husband, daughter, and her boyfriend held down the fort. That morning I received a text from my daughter at 6 a.m. telling me her father was inundated with sales people, public insurance adjustors, construction companies, and emergency relief companies that secure properties. I snuck out of mom's house and walked over with a walker she had at the house. I couldn't believe the traffic on our little street. These people were lined up around the cul de sac. I walked up and saw my house by the light of day. It was heartbreaking. My garage was rubble. My Highlander was a shell. My house inside was a mess. The fire reached the kitchen ceiling and it had collapsed. Smoke, soot and water damage everywhere. Every room with an open vent was affected. I went back outside to the crowd. My neighbor across the street offered her garage and facilities to hold our impromptu meetings. By noon I was done with the pitches and promises but my husband stuck it out until 7 p.m. We picked a few people to start the process rolling. As we spoke that afternoon, I asked him what happened. He told me he awoke to what sounded like gunfire or fireworks so he went to open the garage to check it out. He saw what appeared to be a flame come through the door and disappear. As he reached for the doorknob it was hot. He tried to crack the door open to press the garage door opener but it didn't work and he burnt his arm. He closed the back door, yelled to me to call 911, went to the front door, unlocked the screen, and tried to open the garage door. As the opener usually secures the garage door, he actually broke it. Seeking oxygen, the fire whipped around and came at him. This wasn't a little fire our fire extinguishers could handle, as he was hoping. Realizing there was nothing he could do, he focused on getting me out. We've lost many irreplaceable heirlooms, my wedding box that I was hoping to share with Melissa as I am helping her plan her wedding this year, boxes of baby clothes, my bassinet, years of Christmas decorations, Cal's fathers tools handed down to him, his deceased brother's sea bag, and many other heirlooms. It's devastating but the kindness of strangers, our community and our neighbors is heartwarming. Our neighbor, Mr. Castro, offered us his home as residence; Mirna and Samir Zakharia brought flowers, a card, and very generous Stater Bros. gift card to my parent's home; Mitch Lacour from Spacex left two bags containing 5 Spacex sweatshirts that came in very handy when the weather got cooler. We were touched immensely with their generosity. We are very lucky no person was seriously hurt or killed. We've lost our home; it will be gutted and rough estimates of nine to 12 months before we can come back home. We lost four vehicles; Jessica will have to start saving for another down payment for the Prius she loves. Melissa had a buyer for her vehicle and was planning on using that money to help finish school or help with her modest wedding costs. Cal's work truck is completely totaled. My Highlander was our family vehicle and is nothing but a shell. Jessica's kitten Primrose was found Jan. 27 in debris from a cave in and Katniss is still missing. Please keep looking for her. We are lucky and amazed at how many people have helped and want to help. Thank You. We have lost most of everything, but we are still here. We plan to re-build, replace and return. We love it here in Grand Terrace. Sadly, Cal's grandmother passed four days after the fire. It's been a rough two weeks. I have been asked where donations can be sent. If you'd like to help, I've been using my parent's address: 12580 Michigan St., Grand Terrace, CA 92313. Thank you.