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Stories: Hakodate House Fire

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Hakodate House Fire 08 Oct 2003
I just read Pickett Choro's story on the fire and thought I should put the whole story out for everyone's enjoyment. One P-day in February 1993, my companion, McKenna Choro, and Bass Choro went to the prison for haircuts. Knighton Choro was cooking something and I was taking a nap. Knighton Choro (who was the best practical joker around) ran up the stairs and told me to wake up because the fruit store next door was on fire. I thought he was joking and told him to let me nap in peace. He yelled that the place was on fire and to get moving. I still thought he was joking so I got up and tried to open the little window at the top of the stairs to see what was up. The window would not open so I went downstairs (I was kind of grumpy about Knighton waking me up from my P-day nap for his little joke.) and put on my boots. As I stepped outside flames were shooting out of the fruit stand next to the house. I immediately sprinted across the street, and Knighton Choro and I watched as the place burned. We had no jackets, just our boots, slacks and white shirts. We called the missionaries across town to bring jackets, and they thought we were joking! After communicating that we were dead serious, freezing, and not in a good mood, they came quickly. When we called the Honbu, President Christensen was on a train to another city and unreachable. McKenna Choro and Bass Choro were shocked to return to the charcoal that was our house. President Christensen and the Shimai got there two days later. We tried to salvage things out of the rubble, but it was so cold the water used to put out the fire froze what was not burned into the floor. We spent the next week in the other missionaries' apato (very cozy with 8 of us in a place designed for 2). After buying new everything, and finding a new apato we were finally able to start dendo again. The great thing was the new area started having baptisms right away! We never found out how the fire started in the fruit store. I do not remember the name of the place we moved into off-hand but it was on the 6th(?) floor of the building. Our parents seemed a little stressed in the letters that followed. Apparently the phone calls from the mission about our house burning down did not calm any nerves. It all worked out in the end, and I can laugh about now.
David M. Moore Send Email
 
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