Fire leaves man homeless on his birthday

Jason Anderson's birthday dawned in devastation, not celebration. There was no cake, no laughter--only smoke, confusion, and a frantic scramble to salvage what little he could.

By early Sunday morning, Anderson stood half a mile from the smouldering ruins of his home on Wexford Road in Vineyard Town.

"Mi house bun dung and a pan me birthday," he said. "Today a me birthday, and me caah even talk right now. Me just a wul a vibes."

The blaze erupted around 3 a.m., ripping through the house where Anderson, his partner, and their four children were asleep.

"I was inside with my family, and is six of us," he said. His eldest daughter, just 18, was the first to sense danger--but fear rendered her silent.

He told THE STAR, "Mi daughter wake me up and she couldn't even tell me say a fire to how she frighten."

By the time Anderson fully grasped the situation, flames had already invaded parts of the house.

"Mi do mi utmost best fi save the house," he said, before adding "Mi best was not good enough."

Despite the punishing heat, Anderson managed to haul out a few possessions--a television, a stove, a microwave, and a gas cylinder.

"Mi cya live without me TV," said.

But nearly everything else--clothes, furniture, hard-earned savings--was lost.

"Mi loose all couple likkle crumbs," he said of the money he had tucked away. "But yuh know how it guh. Mi have life. The greatest part is that mi and mi family alive."

Yet even survival carries its own heartbreak. His voice grew thick as he reflected on what hurt the most.

"Mi try fi help mi place and what really mash me up, mi have a son him a 16 year old. Dem man deh nuh come a road, him nuh bad. Him good, and him bookwork everything good fi him. And when him see me a fight and me see him a fight..." His words faltered and faded.

Next door, his neighbour narrowly escaped disaster. He gestured to broken windows and blackened trees--a mango and an ackee--that once shaded the slim gap between their homes.

"See my house nearly ketch deh," he said. "The wul a me glass dem drop out. Me affi go buy back me louvre dem, the heat do that, enuh."

He had slept through most of the emergency, unaware of just how close danger had come.

"Mi did a sleep and me never feel nuh heat because a the other side a the house me deh pan," he explained.

THE STAR made repeated attempts to contact the Jamaica Fire Brigade for an official report, but calls went unanswered.