I was so tired that night in 1999. Instead of cleaning up the kitchen before bed, I promised myself that I would take care of the dishes and pot from our chicken dinner first thing in the morning.
Later, I woke up slightly and smelled bacon cooking. I thought, “Huh, Craig must be home.”
Still later, I woke up a little more and smelled burned bacon. I got up and walked along the hall and down the stairs. As I neared the bottom of the staircase, a thick cloud of smoke erased the landing. Continue reading