Household Fire on Foxhall & Jobs

Last year, 2024, this is what I wrote in our holiday card:

“Brady and I celebrated our 30 years of marriage by recovering from the sticker shock of a big remodel. The new plan is less ambitious but far more breathable.”

Ha! Our “shock of a big remodel” got worse before it got better. Our home burned to a complete loss when we woke just after midnight on the 27th turned to February 28. We were relieved—if that’s the right word—to realize that we did not remodel a house in 2024 only to have it burn down in 2025.

The fire started on the deck, caused by a faulty outdoor dog (pet) house warmer. My bedroom is the farthest from that side of the house. It was around midnight when I woke up, and I woke up because of three things: 1) The red light and heat from the fire shining through my bedroom window. 2) My neighbor calling my cell phone to tell me our house was on fire. 3) The smoke alarm.

It is a surreal thing to see. I stared at it for a few seconds before it registered that it was actually happening.

I ran across the hall to Brady’s room. (Snoring keeps us in separate bedrooms.) He is very hard of hearing and hadn’t heard the alarms. He jumped out of bed and ran to the window in my room. By then, the smoke was already making us cough. We ran down the stairs.

I called 911, just in case my neighbor hadn’t. The dispatcher asked a few questions and then said, “Is there anyone else in the home?” I turned around—and Brady wasn’t behind me.

I took two steps toward the front door. Two steps. Essentially a pivot. That’s when I saw the smoke coming down the stairs. It looked like a cartoon—thick gray smoke rolling down each step. In that very short moment, the heat knocked me over and instantly singed my hair. Then I noticed first responders running across our lawn toward the backyard. Brady hadn’t realized the size of the blaze and had gone around the house (barefoot) to get the water hose. The responders started screaming at him to get away from the fire. That was when he tore a ligament in his foot.

Later, when the fire was under control, the Fire Marshal walked us back into the house to retrieve essential items like medication. We were in shock at we saw during our quick walk in the house. We'd get to see and absorb was left in days to come, but that first walk-thru was numbing.

The flames had been concentrated on the deck, the side of the house, the garage, and the room above the garage—but the rest of the house was melted or burning from thermal heat alone. TVs, clocks, pictures, even shower curtains melted and slid down the walls if they didn’t combust outright. The smoke damage is indescribable and nearly unremovable It isn’t just a wood fire—it’s the toxic residue of burning plastics and chemicals. More than lingers, it dominates the smell of anything in the home. The next morning, the house caught fire again. Heat and wind had re-ignited embers that were still smoldering. In instances such as this, drywall is immediately removed after the belongings are removed by remediation companies to clear out fire odor. The entire house was "taken down to the studs."

We lived in a hotel/suite place for about 6 weeks. We were trying to find a rental that would accept our dog’s breed. Penny is a pitbull mix. We could not find a place to rent, consequently we had to rehome her. By far, that was the worst part of the fire’s impact for me. She is with good people who love and take care of her, but I miss her very much. She was rescued by the first responders from her crate, which was in the room directly by the burning deck. The rebuild is underway. There are so many moving parts. The deck and stairs alongside the garage have been rebuilt, and the burned garage wall has been reframed. Some new or replaced framing was needed here and there. The rebuild is expected to be completed in late spring or early summer. Will we move back in? We don’t know yet.

It is believed that the fire originated from the outdoor doghouse warmer, which was plugged into a short outdoor extension cord. When asked for details, I found the warmer in my Amazon order history. It is no longer available. The operating manual did not state that it couldn’t be used with an extension cord, so the insurance company may pursue the manufacturer. That part of this situation requires no action from us; it’s between the insurer and the manufacturer.

We salvaged a few precious items for early ozone treatment in hopes of removing the smoke smell. A handful improved. Most did not. We miss our Christmas decorations—many childhood, homemade by the girls. But on that front, it’s onward and upward. No 'thing' is more precious than our lives.

Between the trauma and the reality that the house is simply too big for two people, it may be time for something different. This uncertainty is one of those areas where Brady is far more comfortable than I am—but we’re figuring it out together.

Jobs

I am a contractor to the federal government. Our funding was available beyond what (sadly and frustratingly) ended up being the longest government shutdown in history. So my work was uninterrupted. The Department of Justice federal program managers for whom I work had to come to work without pay--until after it was over. Brady works as a federal employee for the Department of Energy. He was furloughed towards the end of the shutdown. My company had two rounds of layoffs. The survivor syndrome persists. 

Our (my contractor's) scope of work is scheduled to move to Huntsville, AL. Given Brady's job location requirements, we will not likely go to Huntsville if/when that happens unless they permit remote work. Either way, my job will experience some type of change in the next year. Another source of ambiguity and trusting God's continued faithfulness to us.