Our Son Cole's Recovery from Tragic Fire

(MORE PHOTOS BELOW)

I am establishing this gofundme on behalf of my son, Cole Finney.

 The morning after my sixty-second birthday I received the call that every parent prays they do not receive. A doctor from USC Medical Center informed me that my son had just been rushed to emergency having been the victim of a significant house fire. She conveyed that he was conscious and stable but severely burned on as much as twenty to thirty percent of his body, and that they were still assessing the actual definitive damage.

 He was in the hospital for 8 days before being released. Four of those days he was in the ICU with a breathing tube down his throat to assist his breathing due to the damage he received from smoke inhalation. I was at his bedside almost every day watching him cough up thick black particles every few hours. Cole is lucky to have left the hospital as soon as he did, but even though he is no longer at risk for death or serious injury, he still must painfully clean and manage his wounds, which could take months to even partially heal.

 No one but my son can truly express the harrowing, terrifying ordeal that he endured to quite literally save his own life.  The following is his heart wrenching recounting to the best of his recollection as to how he eventually escaped an unconscionable situation. 

 He further explains quite succinctly our ongoing challenges, emotionally, logistically and especially, financially as we all try to assist our son, our friend, our colleague with his extensive recovery process.

 My wife and I thank you from the deepest part of our being for taking the time to read of our son’s horrific experience and his urgent plea for any type of assistance to help with his eventual path back to near normalcy. 

 
We are immensely grateful.

 

THE FIRE

Bowie barked. Not his usual soft bark to let me know the mail was here or a roommate was cooking breakfast. This bark was loud. I opened my eyes to see my room was hazy. A very thin layer of smoke hung in the air, small enough to be from burnt popcorn or a smoldering fire in a fireplace. No one was yelling. No alarms were sounding. And therefore, I was not alarmed either. I should have been.

Bowie continued to bark. I got up, and put my hand on the door. It wasn’t hot. I turned the handle and opened the door. Immediately a huge torrential plume of smoke hit me right in the face. The blackest, foulest smoke filled my room instantly. I couldn’t breathe. I could barely see. I knew right then that if I didn’t leave within minutes or even seconds I would pass out from smoke inhalation and die right there in that house. I jumped to the window of my room and ripped open the curtains. To my horror, on the other side of my window were thick metal bars, fastened into the wall with large screws. I was trapped. The only way out was through the hot thick smoke that clogged my lungs and burned my eyes.

I stumbled out of my room into the main entryway. The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see even my own hand in front of me as I extended it out to prevent myself from running into walls or furniture. I felt my way to the front door. It would all be over soon, I thought. I just needed to get out. As soon as my hands felt the door, my worst nightmare came true. A huge inferno erupted from the floor and ignited the door I was touching and the walls next to it, surrounding me with flames instantly. My hands, arms, legs, and chest melted and seared in the heat of the inferno. I screamed in pain, stumbled back into the middle of the smoke filled room, the sound of flames erupting around me. It was at this moment, enduring this pain, choking on this smoke, that I knew I was going to die. All my life had led to this moment of horrific death, to be burned alive in a home I had moved into less than a week prior.

I flailed with the urgency of a dying animal and connected with something I couldn’t see. It shattered. Glass. A window. The smoke began billowing out of the hole my elbow had made in the glass. I could see the ground 10 feet below. Without thinking another thought, I swung again, breaking the rest of the window, and jumped. I landed on my feet. I could see my injuries now. The skin from my hands had melted, and hung from my wrists by a thread, exposing muscle and nerves on my palms. I ran to the only other exit I knew, the very back of the house. The pain was crippling but the adrenaline pumping through me knew only one thing mattered.

I swung open the back door, my hand searing with pain and screamed out my dog’s name over and over. I could not see through the smoke. I couldn’t make out even the faintest outline of walls or furniture through the back door. No reply. No bark. No movement. I knew that if I ran back into that home both of us would have died that day. I walked to the street as the fire trucks rolled in. I found a seat on the curb and shook with more pain than I have ever endured, watching as the home with all my belongings, checks, cash tips, and my best friend in the whole world, exploded into flames.

 
WHY I NEED YOUR HELP

It’s hard to ask for help; harder still when I feel so grateful to be alive. Despite the loss of my best friend and dog companion Bowie, I feel extremely lucky to still be here. Extremely lucky to have the love of friends and family. Extremely lucky to be able to stay with my parents while I heal. I am truly trying my best to use this experience as a stepping stone for growth and gratitude, but the reality is that this harrowing ordeal has not just affected me physically and emotionally, but financially as well.

Although I lost probably $15,000 worth of items, belongings, and money spent on my new residence, the biggest blow that has been dealt is that I cannot work, and I won’t be able to for months.

 
My parents have been able to house me and take care of me for the time being, but the truth is that they unfortunately are struggling as well to make ends meet, separate from my recent troubles. I cannot afford many new clothes, and currently have a few pairs of underwear sweatpants and t-shirts to my name. Even money for food is limited since I have no source of income.

I would love to be able to recuperate even a fraction of what I lost, but what I really need now is just some help getting back on my feet. I, like many others, have lived a life paycheck to paycheck, with all of my recent savings spent on the deposit and December’s rent, which won’t be getting refunded. In order for me to rebuild, in order for me to survive the coming months while I heal, I need your help.

Anything and everything helps, and I cannot begin to put into words how deeply thankful I am to any and all of you who help me in any way you can. I never thought I’d find myself in such a position, but anything you can spare at this time literally means the world to me. Thank you all so much. 

RIP BOWIE 2016 - 2019



THE AFTERMATH