Flames Ignited at Grandma's House
By Larry J. Rodarte ©The Diaz Observer, April 2006
The call came around 1 p.m. March 30, 2006, and I heard Cousin Rita say clearly, “Uncle Fred’s house is on fire!” I immediately put on my shoes, jumped in my van and headed to 1627 S. 29th St.
The fire engines were there upon my arrival and the firemen had already doused the fire that started around 11:30 a.m. I could see Uncle Fred, Aunt Diane, Tia Della, Eleanor Lagalo and Rita gathered around a firefighter, who was telling them that in another five to 10 minutes, the whole house would have been gone.
Apparently, old wiring in the home that was built in 1935 had ignited a flame in the front living room — next to Uncle Fred’s chair. It burned the one room, yet the smoke damage spread throughout the first floor as flames shot through a vent in the attic.
Little Joe Diaz was at work at Denny’s when he got a call from a neighbor named Mike saying he saw smoke coming from a window.
“I told Mike, ‘No! Are you sure it’s my house?’” said the 18 year-old son of Uncle Fred and Aunt Diane. “I couldn’t believe it was our house.”
Uncle Fred and Aunt Diane had just arrived at Tia Della’s house to see how Uncle Jack was coming along following his recent surgery.
“They got the call and I saw my brother Fred take off so fast he almost fell down the stairs,” recalled Tia Della. “I was afraid he was going to get into an accident or something.”
Diane concurred saying, “I told Fred to slow down, that Joe had said the firemen had the fire under control, but he still was driving so fast.”
Their son Daniel Lafalatte was at the scene, as well as Frank Gallardo. Many of Daniel’s items were thrown from the attic, now spread out across the driveway.
I was amazed at how calm Uncle Fred was, but I know he keeps things inside. He did mention that he felt bad at losing his two dogs. Also gone was their pet bird of 15 years.
Aunt Diane was a little more shaken, but thankful nobody was hurt.
As I walked toward the house and put my arms around Tia Della, she softly said, “My mama’s house.” I, too, immediately thought of Grandma Cecilia when first getting the call from Rita.
Grandpa Senobio moved his family, then Grandma Cecilia, Tio Fred and Tia Della, from the farm around 1945. The house was just 10 years old at the time.
Entering the house with Cousin Joe to see the damage, I pictured Grandma Cecilia in the few pictures I had of her in this home. I could see her and Grandpa Senobio seated in front of her altar. I could see her in her living room, standing next to a dresser (see above). And lastly, I remembered the beautiful photo of them with my Grandpa Joe, Tia Cruz, Uncle Steve, Uncle Ralph, Tia Dora and a young Yvonne as they all celebrated Grandma and Grandpa’s 50th wedding anniversary in 1956.
My heart ached because I knew this home held so many memories. Cousin Theresa (Stricker) Pawlowski and I just had an e-mail conversation about the day she went over to tell Grandma and Grandpa that her mother had passed away. Theresa explained to me the room and the mattress in the dining room that Grandma threw herself down on when she heard the news.
Cousin Frank and Juanita Medel arrived and offered their assistance. Frank and I walked down the basement steps to see all the flooding from the water upstairs when he started thinking back.
“I remember all the activity that was down here, when all the aunts and uncles would come with their kids and Grandma would be cooking,” said Frank, “This was a lively place, yeah, it sure was a lively place.”
Being a great-grandson, I know I don’t have the memories of the grandchildren who often visited their grandparents while they lived here — especially Cathy Delgado, who lived here too in the ‘50s. Still, my mother told me enough stories to know this house was a part of my family history; she once told me how she and Tia Della would sneak out the window to go to some yearly carnival not far from 29th Street. They were just teenage girls. Sorry Tia, I had to tell.
So today, as I write this story, my heart is heavy, not nearly as heavy as Uncle Fred’s family, yet I think of my great-grandparents, their struggles and life coming to Saginaw, living on the farm, and then eventually moving to 29th Street.
Life goes on and the house will soon be torn down and a new one built. Uncle Fred at age 77 is getting a brand-new house. Thank God he had insurance! Thank God no one was harmed, but I’m sorry for the animals they lost.
I wrote in an e-mail informing everyone of the Diaz fire saying there sure was a lot happening to the family prior to the Reunion. Fires, accidents and illnesses really put things in perspective. Somehow, I just want to tell everyone to let the little things go. A grudge or feud between family members or friends, it’s just not worth it. Let it go! We just don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
We have seen births and we have seen death, we have lived through many things holding on to our hearts. As of late I’ve seen a lot of love. A lot of hugs, and I know we are stronger as a family. Just come to the reunion meetings and take notice of how we welcome one another. We are strong — we are Diaz! We are so blessed to have one another.
The fire engines were there upon my arrival and the firemen had already doused the fire that started around 11:30 a.m. I could see Uncle Fred, Aunt Diane, Tia Della, Eleanor Lagalo and Rita gathered around a firefighter, who was telling them that in another five to 10 minutes, the whole house would have been gone.
Apparently, old wiring in the home that was built in 1935 had ignited a flame in the front living room — next to Uncle Fred’s chair. It burned the one room, yet the smoke damage spread throughout the first floor as flames shot through a vent in the attic.
Little Joe Diaz was at work at Denny’s when he got a call from a neighbor named Mike saying he saw smoke coming from a window.
“I told Mike, ‘No! Are you sure it’s my house?’” said the 18 year-old son of Uncle Fred and Aunt Diane. “I couldn’t believe it was our house.”
Uncle Fred and Aunt Diane had just arrived at Tia Della’s house to see how Uncle Jack was coming along following his recent surgery.
“They got the call and I saw my brother Fred take off so fast he almost fell down the stairs,” recalled Tia Della. “I was afraid he was going to get into an accident or something.”
Diane concurred saying, “I told Fred to slow down, that Joe had said the firemen had the fire under control, but he still was driving so fast.”
Their son Daniel Lafalatte was at the scene, as well as Frank Gallardo. Many of Daniel’s items were thrown from the attic, now spread out across the driveway.
I was amazed at how calm Uncle Fred was, but I know he keeps things inside. He did mention that he felt bad at losing his two dogs. Also gone was their pet bird of 15 years.
Aunt Diane was a little more shaken, but thankful nobody was hurt.
As I walked toward the house and put my arms around Tia Della, she softly said, “My mama’s house.” I, too, immediately thought of Grandma Cecilia when first getting the call from Rita.
Grandpa Senobio moved his family, then Grandma Cecilia, Tio Fred and Tia Della, from the farm around 1945. The house was just 10 years old at the time.
Entering the house with Cousin Joe to see the damage, I pictured Grandma Cecilia in the few pictures I had of her in this home. I could see her and Grandpa Senobio seated in front of her altar. I could see her in her living room, standing next to a dresser (see above). And lastly, I remembered the beautiful photo of them with my Grandpa Joe, Tia Cruz, Uncle Steve, Uncle Ralph, Tia Dora and a young Yvonne as they all celebrated Grandma and Grandpa’s 50th wedding anniversary in 1956.
My heart ached because I knew this home held so many memories. Cousin Theresa (Stricker) Pawlowski and I just had an e-mail conversation about the day she went over to tell Grandma and Grandpa that her mother had passed away. Theresa explained to me the room and the mattress in the dining room that Grandma threw herself down on when she heard the news.
Cousin Frank and Juanita Medel arrived and offered their assistance. Frank and I walked down the basement steps to see all the flooding from the water upstairs when he started thinking back.
“I remember all the activity that was down here, when all the aunts and uncles would come with their kids and Grandma would be cooking,” said Frank, “This was a lively place, yeah, it sure was a lively place.”
Being a great-grandson, I know I don’t have the memories of the grandchildren who often visited their grandparents while they lived here — especially Cathy Delgado, who lived here too in the ‘50s. Still, my mother told me enough stories to know this house was a part of my family history; she once told me how she and Tia Della would sneak out the window to go to some yearly carnival not far from 29th Street. They were just teenage girls. Sorry Tia, I had to tell.
So today, as I write this story, my heart is heavy, not nearly as heavy as Uncle Fred’s family, yet I think of my great-grandparents, their struggles and life coming to Saginaw, living on the farm, and then eventually moving to 29th Street.
Life goes on and the house will soon be torn down and a new one built. Uncle Fred at age 77 is getting a brand-new house. Thank God he had insurance! Thank God no one was harmed, but I’m sorry for the animals they lost.
I wrote in an e-mail informing everyone of the Diaz fire saying there sure was a lot happening to the family prior to the Reunion. Fires, accidents and illnesses really put things in perspective. Somehow, I just want to tell everyone to let the little things go. A grudge or feud between family members or friends, it’s just not worth it. Let it go! We just don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
We have seen births and we have seen death, we have lived through many things holding on to our hearts. As of late I’ve seen a lot of love. A lot of hugs, and I know we are stronger as a family. Just come to the reunion meetings and take notice of how we welcome one another. We are strong — we are Diaz! We are so blessed to have one another.
