ALT-2 Memoirs Thanksgiving Dinner Horror Stories
Fire up that Bird!
It was Thanksgiving Day in the early 1990's, and we were living in a small ranch home at the Jersey shore with our three girls. I had cleaned and stuffed the turkey, and was waiting for the small wall oven to preheat to the desired temperature. Mentioning to my husband that I thought the turkey he purchased was a bit too large for our oven; he insisted everything would be fine. I began vacuuming and putting away toys, as we were expecting family for dinner later that afternoon. The oven timer buzzed and my husband said he would put the turkey in the oven for me.
I went into the kitchen to check on the turkey a short time later, ready to give the bird it's first basting. Opening the oven door, I noticed that the turkey took up every inch of the small space. I called to my husband and informed him that in order for the turkey to properly cook, it needed some air flow around the bird. Again, he insisted it would be fine. I don't think he was prepared to eat those words!
About an hour later, I was startled by the sound of the smoke alarm and a burning smell permeated the house. I ran into the kitchen to see flames shooting out of the closed oven door and licking up the cabinets towards the ceiling. I screamed and my husband came running in from the yard, where he had been playing ball with the girls. "Where is the fire extinguisher?" he yelled. As I grabbed the closet door handle I remembered, "We gave them to my uncle last month to recharge!" I yelled back.
I picked up the phone and began dialing. My husband was a local volunteer firefighter, so instead of calling 911, I contacted the firehouse directly. Sean, one of my husband's friends, answered. I told him our oven was on fire and we needed some help. Expecting he would come over with a fire extinguisher, I thanked him and hung up the phone. "Honey, I called the firehouse and Sean is coming over!" I shouted into the kitchen from the living room. "NO! Call him back, I put out the fire!" he replied. My husband dialed the firehouse to cancel the call, but he was told that Sean dispatched the entire department and four trucks were on the way! I cringed. . .this was going to be quite embarrassing.
Within a minute we could hear the sirens and rumbling engines of the firetrucks. They pulled up in front of the house, and over a dozen firefighters jumped off the trucks and ran towards the house. "Breach this wall, bust out the windows in the front!" were the commands bellowed out by the Chief as he laughed his way to the front door. "Watch where you step!" I instructed the guys as I scrambled to place paper towels on the light blue carpet under their feet. Everyone was having a hearty laugh at my husband's expense. I found out later that it is considered taboo for a firefighter to call the fire department. Oops!
My husband's friends placed fans in the windows and did their best to ventilate all the smoke out of the house. I walked into the kitchen to find a blackened oven, scorched cabinets and ceiling, and gray soot from smoke on all the walls, floors, and furniture in both the kitchen and dining room. Company was due in two hours and they would be expecting a Thanksgiving feast. Phone calls were immediately made to the family. Fortunately my mother had been cooking all morning the free turkey she had earned at the supermarket in order to enjoy Thanksgiving "leftovers" during the week. She agreed to bring it to our home instead. Other family members brought mashed potatoes, gravy and rolls, stuffing, cranberry salad, and assorted pies to round out the holiday feast. We all pitched in and scrubbed the walls, floors, and furniture before sitting down to enjoy a wonderful meal together. My husband was truly amusing as he recounted the morning's events to the family. We laughed, ate, and enjoyed good company. We had much to be thankful for after all. . .and I never told my husband "I told you so!"
