Why I'm Thankful For My Dad

My Dad - smoke eater

Parents teach us a lot of things, some that we think we will never use. A weird or funny quirk that you never understood about your parents begins to make more sense as you grow up and realize that that particular quirk was filled with love. You begin to understand why your parents did the things they did and why they always repeated themselves. You might have screamed "I've heard it for the 100th time," but oh how precious it is when you can recall word-for-word the important things that they say. For example...

When I was younger my dad, the fireman, would wake my brothers and I up in the middle of the night - winter, spring, summer or fall - to drill us on fire safety. I remember having to crawl down the stairs to his battery operated siren or on one occasion having to repel out the second story window of our house to rendezvous at the meeting point at the end of our driveway. I remember "stop, drop and roll," "don't use water on a burn," "get low to the ground in smoke," "use the palm of your hand to feel if a closed door is hot or not (there are less nerves in the palm of your hand)," and "don't panic, breathe naturally." I remember my dad being so passionate about fire safety that he (out of all the dads in elementary and middle school) HE was the dad that taught all of my classmates about fire safety and evacuation plans. He would come to school dressed in his gear and teach the students to put batteries in their smoke detectors, how to climb down fire stairwells, how to fall if you needed to from upper stories, how to crawl, etc. Needless to say, my brain feels like an experienced smoke eater (aka, fireman). Not really understanding why we had to drill so frequently..."I get it already,"... I am now so thankful!

Yesterday, we had a fire at my high school. Thanks to my dad's relentless training, I felt able to handle the situation as best I could. I focused on my "training" or "upbringing" and the fact that I was responsible for getting my students out of the classroom safely. Thankfully, I only had three students and two teachers in my classroom.

My school is comprised of three buildings: A, B and C. My classroom is in Building A - where the fire broke out. We are currently teaching Winter Camp at my school, so only 700 students were in the building instead of 2,500. Building A is five stories tall. My classroom is on the 4th floor. The rest of my hall was deserted since the third grade classrooms are empty during camp. Most other students were on the second floor of Buildings A and B. Those in B were not effected by the fire. The fire broke on on the second floor of Building A. (My building.) My students and I were playing a game of Scrabble when we heard the first fire alarm. I asked what the sound was, having never heard it before. It definitely wasn't as loud as the alarms in America. My co-teachers advised me that it was the fire alarm and that a student probably pulled it as a prank. We continued our game until we heard screaming voices come over the intercom. I don't speak Korean, but I perfectly understand the words that came out of the speakers - EVACUATE! FIRE! The only male student in my classroom rushed to the door to open it when a cloud of smoke filled my classroom. My brain automatically adjusted to take control of the situation and responsibility for getting us out. The smoke was pitch black so I knew we had a fire in the building, but not where. Never having been informed of a fire safety plan, I did what I thought was best. I lead the students to the stairwell away from the smoke. By the time we got to the stairwell, we couldn't see. It was like walking around in your house at night. I felt the doors and walls for heat. Not finding any, we went down one level to the third floor. More smoke was filling that level. I wasn't sure if we should go down again. After looking for flames and seeing no signs of them, we cracked a window and began calling for help. I had those with me get down on the ground, (always get low in a fire, smoke rises). I decided to go down the stairwell to the second floor, feeling for heat as I went. I couldn't see, but I had my dad's voice in my head and knowledge that I have Jesus in my heart. I stayed low and called for help. I went past the second floor, which had the most smoke, and heard a voice coming from the first floor. I saw doors open and light. I climbed back up and got my students and brought them down. We all came out black in the face, covered by smoke, but we came out. Seeing snow and sunshine and feeling the below freezing temperatures was so welcoming! We came out to see the rest of our school evacuated on the football field. My students were rattled, but they are made of strong stock. They adjusted and listened to instructions. Other students, however, did not. They were trying to get back in the school to "see what was going on." Teachers were in shock and didn't know what to do. There wasn't a system in place that accounted for the students so I began yelling in a mixture of Korean and English, rounding up the students. Dad, you would be proud! The humor in this is that each time a student saw my face they would laugh. I had a black face with a very nice black mustache going into my nose.

The fire department arrived and found the fire in an empty classroom. Thank Jesus no students were in there. My principals were restoring order at this point and accounting for the students and teachers. Less than 30 minutes after the fire (10 of which we were in the smoke filled halls), we were ordered to return to class and teach! This is the point in which I felt shock. Not from the smoke. Not from the fire. But from being ordered to go back and teach. I wanted my students and teachers to be checked for smoke inhalation damage. I wanted to be checked. We had no idea what had burned. The smoke could have been toxic. Why wasn't anyone thinking this through? The students were sent back to the black dusted classrooms and asked to resume lessons. I stood in the middle of this, shaking my head until someone heard me. My co-teachers were wonderful. They stayed with me making sure I had a clear interpretation of what was going on. They heard me out and "my dad's voice in my head" and asked the vice-principal to listen to me. He did. He decided not too long after that to send all the students home. They had to clean the school and shut off the power to Building A. I fought hard for my students to see a doctor. For whatever reasons, they decided not to. I, however,  (who had almost called in sick before the fire because of a sore throat),  wasn't breathing very well after the smoke and wanted to see a doctor. I called my dad after talking to Derek and asked him what I should do. He explained to me that if wires were burning it would have put out toxic smoke. Enough said, I went to the hospital. Derek joined me. My doctor spoke amazing English, talked to Derek and gave me an oxygen treatment. I'm fine, just have a sore throat. I'm taking the day off of work today, resting and processing the incident. School is back in session as of this morning.

I went to see the classroom that the fire destroyed. It was charred and melted. I'm so thankful for the protection of Jesus over this school. I'm thankful that no one was hurt!! And I'm thankful for everything that my dad said "100 times!" I'm proud of my dad for what he does in his work! I had no idea that Korea would make me a smoke eater like him!

Thanks Dad. I love you, peaches. 
Happy 50th birthday today!!!!!