Intro - I've been reading this site for a long time, most recently looking for information to help support the volunteer emergency communications work I do. Over the years, ETS has been a great source of information to me. I figured it was about time I tried to give something back.

Background - Compared to most here, I have a pretty boring job. I've been working in computer networking and computer security related things for about 20 years, and I'm in my mid 40's. I'm not quite a hard core geek as I have decent people skills, even if they did take a long time to develop. I'm a world class expert at sleeping late and losing things that I just had a second ago. In all other areas I'm just learning.

Story - This really isn't a survival story, as I wasn't in much danger. It's more of a what can happen/level of preparedness type of thing.

On December 9, 2005, approx 3am, I'm awakened from a sound sleep by a fireman or neighbor pounding on my apartment door yelling "fire! the house is on fire!" Right away I realized that this was probably not going to be a good day. That really was my first thought. Looking around, there's no smoke. No noise from the smoke detectors. The guy yells that the fire is on the other side now.

I'm in a 100+ year old farm house, out in the country in upstate NY. Post and beam construction, two stories, with various rooms and walls added on over the years. The house has been divided up into 4 apartments, one of which is the owner's. I'm on the first floor, west side of the house. My apartment has four exit doors, main door to the west, one door to the north, two at the south east corner, and many windows.

The exit to the west is visually clear, the guy at the door is gone. I live alone, no pets, so no one to worry about but myself right now. I sit up and look around again. Elapsed time? Looking back, probably two seconds, maybe less. Time is moving slowly now, but there is no sense of panic. I don't notice any increase in my heart rate or breathing, but I do now, thinking about it. Strange. Outdoor temp is probably around 30.

By the bed, I grab and pull on pants, socks, t-shirt, boots without even a thought. I stand up and look around again - no smoke. I don't remember if I noticed the flashing lights outside. I put on a flannel shirt and my coat, both of which are in reach. I haven't moved more than 2 feet, and I'm 10 feet from the door. I remember my next thoughts. "Is this real? Do I take something?"

More curious than sensible, with a clear exit behind me and no sight or smell of smoke, I walk down the hall to the east. The hall ends in a T, and to the left, smoke. Light, whispy smoke. It's real. To the right is my normal bedroom, not sure why I decided to sleep in the front room that night. I take two steps to the right, into the bedroom and grab one small container. I step back to the hallway, take a last look into the smoke and sigh. Time to go. I walk back down the hall, grab my keys by the door, and leave.

Break - As I write this I realize I'm probably writing it as much for myself as I am the group, although that really wasn't my intention. I've told the story several times before, and I'm sure it's slightly more interesting than reading the directions on the back of an oatmeal box, but I'm going to write part 2 tomorrow anyway, because that's the part that may provide some insight to anyone that may face a similar situation themselves.