Fire in the Attic

My sophomore year at Hope College I lived in the oldest building on campus, Van Vleck Hall. Although it was 100-plus years old, it had been renovated over the summer, and it was both charming and functional. Smaller than the newer dorms, it had a reputation for being the residence of quiet, nerdy girls. Although I won’t deny that was true, it’s also true that you can get away with a lot if people think you are quiet and nerdy. Let’s just say that the residents had plenty of fun.

On a beautiful April day two weeks before the end of school, the dorm caught fire. Painters had been using torches to scrape old paint off the brick building’s wooden trim, and they did not notice when the dry wood of the eaves caught fire. In a bizarre oversight, there were no smoke detectors in the attic, so the fire crept along under the shingles until suddenly the roof burst into flames. No one was hurt, and while a few rooms sustained major damage, most of us lost only a few things to smoke and water. Although I didn’t lose much, it was still a traumatic experience.

Friends Marilyn and Deb offered the floor of their dorm room for the remaining two weeks of school. A week later, while I was sleeping on that floor, Deb woke us from a sound sleep to announce that the college’s administration building had burned to the ground overnight. I thought she must be joking. She was not. Where Van Raalte Hall had once stood was now a pile of smoldering rubble.

I had been nervous about that day; I had a presentation in one class as well as my final performance exam in voice class. I had prepared, but lack of effort was never my problem. Performance jitters always got the best of me; if I was graded down on anything, it was always related to that. So in addition to doing research for the presentation and practicing for the vocal final, I’d been doing exercises to help me to stay calm. I wanted to do my best—or at least not throw up.

When I heard about Van Raalte, I am pretty sure I went into shock; all emotion left me. But being numb actually was a big help in doing my presentations. With no nerves to get in my way, my psych presentation went flawlessly. I was feeling pretty good, maybe a little bit cocky, as I made my way to voice class, but the smell of smoke as I walked past the dampened ash heap that had been the administration building brought the numbness back immediately. I took my turn in voice class and delivered what was probably my best performance to date. Miss Morrison, my instructor, was clearly pleased, even a little awed.

Relieved to be done with it all, I returned to the room I was sharing with Deb and Marilyn. An hour later Marilyn (a music major) arrived, a little breathless. Miss Morrison had told her about my voice exam, and had told Marilyn that I HAD to audition for the college’s premier choir. The choir director had extend auditions by a day—that day—so Marilyn took me to the music building, helped me warm up, took me to the director’s door, and pushed me through.

I don’t remember the audition going particularly well, but when the list came out two days later, I was amazed to see my name on it as a second soprano. I was proud to be part of the choir; I learned a lot, made some friends, and got to travel a bit, but most importantly, it was in that choir that I met the tenor who became my husband.

I suppose it’s possible Bill and I could have gotten together under different circumstances. And it’s likely that if we hadn’t met each other, we would have had happy marriages with other people. I am a romantic, but I also respect the scientists who have proved that compatibility isn’t limited to one person in the universe, and that happiness isn’t linked to a single individual.

I also know this; the trajectory of my life changed with a fire in the attic. Without the fire there would have been no audition, no choir, no Bill, and none of the great things that have come with that relationship.

Sometimes even the worst days can turn into something amazing. Who would have known, standing on the lawn watching my dorm in flames, that that would be the best day of my life?