Tuesday night while J and I were making dinner together, I noticed a light in our oven ... which was odd, because the lightbulb in the oven has been burnt out for months. Checking it, I realized the element was on fire (just a little flame). Calmly, I pointed it out to J and suggested he get out the massive fire extinguisher, which he did. He sprayed ... and sprayed ... and sprayed. And meanwhile, our kitchen is filling up with smoke and whatever the heck it is that makes fire extinguishers do their thing. The fire wouldn't go out; in fact, it was spreading. I called 911 and was patched to the fire department, and I explained the situation: that the fire was contained to the oven (thus far) but that we couldn't get it to go out. Then we grabbed the cats, tossed them in the big cat carrier, and went outside to wait for the fire truck. (We also alerted the other two tenants, so they could come wait with us.) It felt so weird to leave my apartment knowing my stove was in flames and not doing anything about it! Less than two minutes after we got out of the apartment, the fire truck arrived (blocking the road because it had to park facing the wrong way) and the firefighters came out. They quickly got the fire under control and punched out every screen in the apartment to air out the smoke and fumes. After about half an hour, we were allowed back in the apartment.
It was a mess. The air was still smoky and kind of felt sticky, and that got all over our clothes and hair. The stove was destroyed. There was yellowish powder all over everything in every room and our belongings were scattered all over the place. The kitchen floor had been damaged by something hard and heavy dropping on it, and most of the screens (which are supposed to be the easy pop-out kind, but weren't popped out properly) are bent and some are torn. Our stove was destroyed.
So, I spent all day yesterday cleaning up the mess. Fortunately, we only lost our stove, our dinner that night, some towels and our toothbrushes (which were so badly covered in powder that it didn't seem worth the effort to clean them). It could have been so much worse! And I faced one of my biggest fears/worries: what will happen to the cats if we ever have a fire. We got them out. They are fine (they weren't even anxious -- just curious) and weren't exposed to the smoke or fumes at all (J and I were, but the cats were smart and hid until we came to get them out).
Our stove has already been replaced (J's parents recently renovated their kitchen and had kept their old stove to give to us when we finally get our own place). The floor is still damaged and will likely remain that way -- the landlords might replace it when we move out, but it's not a hazard as it is so they'll leave it for now. The cats have already forgotten about it, although they were pleased that I stayed home with them yesterday (they were less pleased about me cleaning, but then, so was I!). Spring cleaning came early, I guess. Thank goodness Tuesday and yesterday were warm so that all the windows could be left open to air the place out!
Anyway ... yeah. I feel a little better for knowing how well J and I were able to handle the situation, and that dealing with the cats actually proved to be fairly easy and painless. It was still an awful experience, but like I said, it could have been so much worse. And there's absolutely no way this can be blamed on us: it was very clearly an electrical fire within the 20+-year-old stove that we could not have foreseen, and we handled it very well and responsibly. I can't help but think that I must be one of the luckiest people in the world, for how well this all turned out!
It was a mess. The air was still smoky and kind of felt sticky, and that got all over our clothes and hair. The stove was destroyed. There was yellowish powder all over everything in every room and our belongings were scattered all over the place. The kitchen floor had been damaged by something hard and heavy dropping on it, and most of the screens (which are supposed to be the easy pop-out kind, but weren't popped out properly) are bent and some are torn. Our stove was destroyed.
So, I spent all day yesterday cleaning up the mess. Fortunately, we only lost our stove, our dinner that night, some towels and our toothbrushes (which were so badly covered in powder that it didn't seem worth the effort to clean them). It could have been so much worse! And I faced one of my biggest fears/worries: what will happen to the cats if we ever have a fire. We got them out. They are fine (they weren't even anxious -- just curious) and weren't exposed to the smoke or fumes at all (J and I were, but the cats were smart and hid until we came to get them out).
Our stove has already been replaced (J's parents recently renovated their kitchen and had kept their old stove to give to us when we finally get our own place). The floor is still damaged and will likely remain that way -- the landlords might replace it when we move out, but it's not a hazard as it is so they'll leave it for now. The cats have already forgotten about it, although they were pleased that I stayed home with them yesterday (they were less pleased about me cleaning, but then, so was I!). Spring cleaning came early, I guess. Thank goodness Tuesday and yesterday were warm so that all the windows could be left open to air the place out!
Anyway ... yeah. I feel a little better for knowing how well J and I were able to handle the situation, and that dealing with the cats actually proved to be fairly easy and painless. It was still an awful experience, but like I said, it could have been so much worse. And there's absolutely no way this can be blamed on us: it was very clearly an electrical fire within the 20+-year-old stove that we could not have foreseen, and we handled it very well and responsibly. I can't help but think that I must be one of the luckiest people in the world, for how well this all turned out!
