Today was a good day. My first shift at a brand new job went well and I clocked out content with my new career path. Driving home long past rush hour, the city lights and ELO on my stereo were the perfect closing to a long but rewarding twelve hours. Piloting my trusty little ride BassMaam into the driveway, I was parked and ready for puppy kisses before realizing SteelerDude had cleaned the cluttered garage to make room for her.
I didn't drive in. Puppy kisses are more important than getting back in the car; it's too warm for frost. Minutes later I heard single sharp pop but glanced out the window and saw nothing. Damn kids. It wasn't a window that faces the driveway.
I took the dogs out back and started hearing sirens. There were a lot, and they were getting closer. When the dogs ran in the house and up to their beds, I got worried. "I think those sirens are coming here," I told SD. By here, I meant our subdivision, possibly our street. I opened the front door and was confronted with a plume of smoke coming from ... my driveway? The lights and sirens were here. HERE.
A firefighter in full gear is standing next to my banana tree. Spotting me on the porch, he calls, "GET BACK." I do.
Backing into the house, I bumped into SD. "My car is on fire," I said simply. "What the fuck?"
It took a team of firefighters to get the fully engaged front end under control. We eventually made our way outside where a police officer and fire captain were very kind about taking my statement as my transportation smoldered, which was basically is this shit for real?
Ever so briefly, I was pissed. I loved that damn car. Then the what-ifs kicked in. What if I had pulled right up to the garage door, instead of stopping several feet back? What if this had happened an hour ago in the hospital parking deck, or forty minutes ago when I was careening down an 8-lane highway at 65mph with ELO blasting?
What if I had pulled into the garage?
What if my neighbors hadn't been alert? My driveway isn't visible from the kitchen or the back yard. A firefighter told me they received several calls, and how they were on scene before we even knew what was happening will forever boggle my mind. What if the firefighters had arrived five, ten minutes later? I had a full tank of gas.
This isn't our first rodeo with fire. I'm not sure I could have handled losing my art and rebuilding my home again just five years out from this. As much as she fit me like a glove, my car was just a ride and a well-insured one at that. It sucks to have to call out on my second day of a promising job, but "my cars melted" is an excuse for the ages. In her thumping blaze of glory, BassMaam even melted the bumper and tail light of her sister Sylvia, a '98 Civic, her fuel gauge also on F.
Never underestimate the power of community. Someone else looking out their window on a perfect autumn evening saved my life tonight. It may even have been the mean neighbor who doesn't like us. I'm no less grateful, and I'd do the same for her in a heartbeat.
RIP BassMaam
UPDATE 10/22/15 14:19 EDT: I can't thank you all enough for the support and helpful links! We've spoken to the insurance company and there were no active recalls on that make and model. Both cars are covered, they're setting us up with a rental, and my new manager was very understanding.
I still don't know what happened, but I will be reporting this to the NHTSA and Toyota among others. I don't want this to happen to anyone else. Here are more photos in the light of day.
Note the singed banana leaves next to the house
Charlotte Fire Department, I can't thank y'all hard enough.