Last night we went to a get-together at Springhouse for all the residents affected by the fire. The firemen came too. Unfortunately, Sean and I didn't see many people, as the office at Springhouse didn't inform us of the time of the party until the middle of the day. They called my phone and left voicemail that it was at 6. I don't get phone service out at work, so I didn't get the message until 6:10.
:>
Sean, on the other hand, was still at work when I called to tell him about the call. He hurried home and we went over there, arriving about an hour "late". This after being asked repeatedly to please come because they wanted to do something special. It would have been nice to give the guest of honor (our hero Sean Meadows, who pulled a fire alarm) more warning about the time of the party.
In any event, he got a goofy-looking certificate that said something like "Good Job Award" and we ate some WifeSaver. Mmm, chicken.
We did learn something important, though: apparently it's so dangerous in the burned-out building that even people whose homes were barely touched aren't allowed to salvage their perfectly unscathed items. They won't let anyone go in there. So the chances of our recovering our hard drives just went from "minimal" to "no chance in hell".
Bleh.
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