Thrice happy state again to be
The trustful infant on the knew,
Who lets his rosy fingers play
About his mother’s neck, and knows
Nothing beyond his mother’s eyes!
-Lord Alfred Tennyson
After his family didn’t answer the phone, Mariet Ford called and asked his brother to drive the few miles to his house and check on Tess, Mariet's 8-month-pregnant wife, and their 3-year-old son, MoMo.
Orrin Ford lived in unincorporated southern Sacramento County in a new development called Laguna that would incorporate in 2000 as part of the city of Elk Grove. Mariet’s house was on Silver Hawk Way.
With his wife and kids in the family car on the way to the family dentist appointment, Orrin parked outside his brother’s house.
It was about 8:55 a.m.
Orrin rang the bell. Tess didn’t answer.
Orrin knocked. He knocked louder. He peaked in the window.
They, the windows, were dark … as though blacked with some sort of film. Orrin cupped his hands and looked closer. He saw a light. An orange light. On the floor.
Fire!
Orrin tried the door.
Locked.
He ran to the side door.
Unlocked.
He ran past the lawn mower. He seized the knob of the garage door. Not hot from the fire. Unlocked as well. He pushed it open. Smoke rolled out.
It stung his eyes. It stank a toxic stink that was a combination of something synthetic and something he wasn’t sure what – but this stink was instinctually unsettling. Blinded by this noxious cloud, he felt his way past the laundry machine.
He ran down the hall.
“Tess!” he shouted. “MoMo.”
The smoke was so thick he could hardly see.
In the master bedroom, he patted the king-sized bed. He felt the covers and the mattress.
No Tess.
No MoMo.
Where could they be?
Running back up the hall and past the kitchen-dining room, he tripped.
Suddenly, from this vantage point beneath the lethal cloud of smoke, he saw … Tess … and MoMo.
Air.
Air.
He needed air.
He rushed to and opened the front door. Locked. He unlocked it, twisted the knob. Outside, he gasped.
Someone called 9-1-1.
