It was just another day for ol’ Roy Harris. The 69-year-old decided to prepare himself something to eat while his wife and his daughter were at a bridal shower for his other soon-to-be-married daughter, Ronisha Jones-Harris. While his food was cooking, he went outside to smoke a cigarette and talk to a friend for a bit. Two minutes later, he was battling ceiling-high flames spewing from his oven-top.
Cooking grease spilled onto the oven eye and ignited a raging fire.
Though he bravely attempted to extinguish the flames himself, there was nothing he could do — once he realized this, he left the house and dialed 9-1-1. The fire truck arrived in about 10 minutes.
By the time it was all said and done, everything inside was destroyed: clothes, jewelry, irreplaceable family photos, and even the dress his wife, Anita Harris, was planning on wearing to Ronisha’s wedding, which was just two weeks away.
“I just couldn’t believe it,” Anita, 60, said. “It looked like I went through Katrina. Now I know how those people feel.”
She and her daughter Rochelle didn’t know their house burned down until they pulled into the driveway to see the dark, smoke-battered remnants of their home.
All they remember feeling was helplessness.
In just a moment, the Harris family lost everything — and to make matters worse, they didn’t even have renter’s insurance.
When I heard about what happened, via a text message from my mom at 1 a.m., it deeply saddened me. The victims of that fire aren’t just another pair of unfortunate people to me — Roy and Anita Harris are my grandparents.
I barely slept that night, instead frantically Facebook messaging all my friends asking for help and prayers. This worried me; I wasn’t sure how they could get back on their feet with no jobs and at such an old age. At 60 and 69, it’s not as though they can just run out and find employment.
Another large concern I had was how they would emotionally handle this situation. While Roy instantly realized he couldn’t worry about the house anymore and was able to move on fast, the recovery process has been much more difficult for my grandmother.
“It still ain’t hit me that I ain’t got nothin’,” she said.
Though this experience has overwhelmed our entire family, it has taught 23-year-old Rochelle a valuable lesson. Pulling into that driveway and realizing that all of her shoes, clothes and valuables were gone, she was deeply saddened by these losses for a while. But after a day or so, she realized that what was important was that her family was alive and together and that the material things don’t matter — because in just a second, they can be gone.
“I don’t put value in names anymore,” she said. “That’s not important.”
Rochelle had been previously anticipating returning to school for summer courses at Portland Community College, but now she will need to focus on helping her family find somewhere to stay and establish some stability. She hopes to be back in school next fall.
The three currently reside in Ronisha’s three-bedroom apartment, sleeping on beds, couches and pillows with her three kids. Our family has been as supportive as we possibly can, and many foundations have chipped in as well — one member even replacing Ronisha’s ruined wedding dress.
I managed to round up $700 dollars for Anita, Roy and Rochelle through the support of countless friends, members of the Delta Tau Delta fraternity, and supporters of my Facebook group. Words cannot express how much it meant for me to know that so many people were able to aid my family in trying times.
Watching my grandmother think about where she is right now, it’s impossible not to acknowledge her internal struggle between optimism and helplessness. But my family is strong, and our unity has allowed us to endure many other improbable hardships. We have seen incarceration, death, crime, disputes and destruction — and none of that has destroyed our family’s strength. I know we can overcome this.
“The Lord don’t put no more than you can stand,” Anita said, “so we’ll get it together one way or another.”
[email protected]