Hylda_H
Essex House: The Good Samaritan
Shrieking smoke detectors awoke my mother. It was the middle of the night in early September 2011. She shook my father awake, despite the fact that at 88, his hearing is better than hers. A year his junior, my mother cannot walk well. In a daze, they grabbed the flash lights they had used to light their way to bed the evening before when the power was out. Now the power was still out. The detector was relentless in its shrill alarm, and they made their way carefully down the steps, where it became clear to them that there was indeed a fire in their home: The thick smoke billowed up to knee level over the floor. They made their way to the front door and exited into the cool night air, glancing back to see the first flames emerge from the far wall. In the dark, it was a challenge to negotiate the steps to the driveway.
My mother had a handheld telephone on which she repeatedly tried to dial 112 in vain. Not aware that the phone’s base station requires electricity, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t contact emergency services. Precious minutes passed until a neighbor responded to her knocking on his door. The fire fighters arrived 15 minutes later and were assisted by men and equipment from neighboring towns. The flames shot out the lower floor windows and front door and smoke billowed out of eves above the upper floor windows. The blaze rendered their home unlivable and destroyed most of their possessions. They escaped with the most precious of all: their lives.
Fragile and shaken, they tried to make sense of the information the insurance claims representative, restoration company, and Fire Marshall overloaded them with. Soon experts were flown in to determine whether the electrical company is at fault for causing the fire, because a repairman from Pennsylvania Power & Light mistakenly connected a live wire to a neutral wire that night, sending thousands of amps surging into their home.
I am their only child, and I live and work in The Netherlands. At such times, the distance feels greater than ever. Helpful cousins pitched in and kept me informed during the first hours. The charitable Red Cross put my parents in a hotel. For a couple nights, a hotel is all right for emergency purposes. But for elderly, it is not a comfortable place. Furthermore, my parents needed rest and their medication, and it took a few days to get prescriptions filled. Time seemed scarce as officials and insurance matters were demanding attention. I stepped in and became the primary contact for insurance and the construction company. Fortunately, they were well insured, and my husband and I made plans for restoring the house in a senior-compliant way.
I needed to find my parents a safe haven to rest, away from the madness. My first call was to Messiah Village, a retirement village for which my parents were already on a pre-approved list, pending their desire or need to move there. My mother was a life-long member of the Brethren-in-Christ Church affiliated with that institution, and I felt it would be pleasant for them to be in familiar surroundings with many relatives that had retired there. To my great dismay, as I talked to a number of the managers, none of them could or would help my parents in their time of need. The village’s business model does not accommodate emergency situations. Besides, they only accept residents who put down a sizeable chunk of money to cover costs of staying for good. The freedom of choice to return to their home was important to my parents.
I phoned Essex House, a retirement home not affiliated with any religion or philosophical organization next. Paul, the manager, answered my call personally. He lent a compassionate and listening ear as I explained the predicament. He asked where my parents were at that moment, noted the cell phone number of my cousin who was with them, and assured me he would get in his car if necessary to bring them for an introduction to the facilities Essex House offers. As I explained my concerns and that the move was a temporary one until their house was remodeled, Paul reassured me that he would make it possible for my parents to stay at Essex House. I do believe he waived a magic wand! Paul negotiated with the insurance claims rep for the fees and rent, got approval from his director and arranged second-hand furniture for my parents’ use. Within two days, he welcomed my parents to Essex House. His actions remind me of the Biblical story of The Good Samaritan. I am grateful that Essex House has a big heart and such a compassionate manager as Paul.
Grace, elegance, kindness, engaging activities and generosity are qualities that Essex House excels at. We want to express our gratitude for the caring and watchful eye of the managers Paul & Darla and Tom & Yvonne. The staff is dedicated and all the meals are superb! When I visited my parents, my son and I thoroughly enjoyed the generous hospitality and fine meals during our stay in the guest suite. Many thanks for your kindness!
Our thanks also to the wonderful residents that made my parents' stay during those 11 months so pleasant. Many dear friendships were made during their stay.
Recently, my parents moved into their newly renovated home. They are adjusting well. Whenever they need to give up housekeeping in their home, their choice for a new one is definitely the lovely Essex House.
As a token of our appreciation, a promise will unfold itself next Spring at Essex House. Nature willing, hundreds of colorful tulips from The Netherlands will emerge from the flower bed at the front entrance to bring cheer to all who see them.
Essex House: The Good Samaritan
Shrieking smoke detectors awoke my mother. It was the middle of the night in early September 2011. She shook my father awake, despite the fact that at 88, his hearing is better than hers. A year his junior, my mother cannot walk well. In a daze, they grabbed the flash lights they had used to light their way to bed the evening before when the power was out. Now the power was still out. The detector was relentless in its shrill alarm, and they made their way carefully down the steps, where it became clear to them that there was indeed a fire in their home: The thick smoke billowed up to knee level over the floor. They made their way to the front door and exited into the cool night air, glancing back to see the first flames emerge from the far wall. In the dark, it was a challenge to negotiate the steps to the driveway.
My mother had a handheld telephone on which she repeatedly tried to dial 112 in vain. Not aware that the phone’s base station requires electricity, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t contact emergency services. Precious minutes passed until a neighbor responded to her knocking on his door. The fire fighters arrived 15 minutes later and were assisted by men and equipment from neighboring towns. The flames shot out the lower floor windows and front door and smoke billowed out of eves above the upper floor windows. The blaze rendered their home unlivable and destroyed most of their possessions. They escaped with the most precious of all: their lives.
Fragile and shaken, they tried to make sense of the information the insurance claims representative, restoration company, and Fire Marshall overloaded them with. Soon experts were flown in to determine whether the electrical company is at fault for causing the fire, because a repairman from Pennsylvania Power & Light mistakenly connected a live wire to a neutral wire that night, sending thousands of amps surging into their home.
I am their only child, and I live and work in The Netherlands. At such times, the distance feels greater than ever. Helpful cousins pitched in and kept me informed during the first hours. The charitable Red Cross put my parents in a hotel. For a couple nights, a hotel is all right for emergency purposes. But for elderly, it is not a comfortable place. Furthermore, my parents needed rest and their medication, and it took a few days to get prescriptions filled. Time seemed scarce as officials and insurance matters were demanding attention. I stepped in and became the primary contact for insurance and the construction company. Fortunately, they were well insured, and my husband and I made plans for restoring the house in a senior-compliant way.
I needed to find my parents a safe haven to rest, away from the madness. My first call was to Messiah Village, a retirement village for which my parents were already on a pre-approved list, pending their desire or need to move there. My mother was a life-long member of the Brethren-in-Christ Church affiliated with that institution, and I felt it would be pleasant for them to be in familiar surroundings with many relatives that had retired there. To my great dismay, as I talked to a number of the managers, none of them could or would help my parents in their time of need. The village’s business model does not accommodate emergency situations. Besides, they only accept residents who put down a sizeable chunk of money to cover costs of staying for good. The freedom of choice to return to their home was important to my parents.
I phoned Essex House, a retirement home not affiliated with any religion or philosophical organization next. Paul, the manager, answered my call personally. He lent a compassionate and listening ear as I explained the predicament. He asked where my parents were at that moment, noted the cell phone number of my cousin who was with them, and assured me he would get in his car if necessary to bring them for an introduction to the facilities Essex House offers. As I explained my concerns and that the move was a temporary one until their house was remodeled, Paul reassured me that he would make it possible for my parents to stay at Essex House. I do believe he waived a magic wand! Paul negotiated with the insurance claims rep for the fees and rent, got approval from his director and arranged second-hand furniture for my parents’ use. Within two days, he welcomed my parents to Essex House. His actions remind me of the Biblical story of The Good Samaritan. I am grateful that Essex House has a big heart and such a compassionate manager as Paul.
Grace, elegance, kindness, engaging activities and generosity are qualities that Essex House excels at. We want to express our gratitude for the caring and watchful eye of the managers Paul & Darla and Tom & Yvonne. The staff is dedicated and all the meals are superb! When I visited my parents, my son and I thoroughly enjoyed the generous hospitality and fine meals during our stay in the guest suite. Many thanks for your kindness!
Our thanks also to the wonderful residents that made my parents' stay during those 11 months so pleasant. Many dear friendships were made during their stay.
Recently, my parents moved into their newly renovated home. They are adjusting well. Whenever they need to give up housekeeping in their home, their choice for a new one is definitely the lovely Essex House.
As a token of our appreciation, a promise will unfold itself next Spring at Essex House. Nature willing, hundreds of colorful tulips from The Netherlands will emerge from the flower bed at the front entrance to bring cheer to all who see them.