After arson, anger and little sleep

This week, after the arson investigators had asked their questions, after the insurance person had made measurements of his burned-out North Seattle garage, Dan Mittendorf was left dealing not just with remnants of the fire but with the task of sorting out why this had happened to him and his partner, Rita Martinez.

There were no answers, just anger, frustration and some fear.

"I'm sleeping a little lighter. My mind is churning around," he said.

Pointing to the fire's rubble, he said, "That's why ... I need to get this out, to get it out of my mind."

Yesterday, like the previous day, he was loading the charred and melted contents into a pickup he had borrowed. Of a dozen arsons last weekend that did an estimated $3 million damage, his torched garage wasn't among the big losses.

But he was happy that his insurance company said it'd write him a check for $12,600, the maximum coverage for the structure of the garage, set apart by a back yard at his home in the 7500 block of 21st Avenue Northeast.

Still, plenty of uninsurable memories are gone. There was a scorched pile of 18 to 20 dolls that had been the playthings of his stepdaughter, Ardara Maitre, now 20.

There were the remains of a pinball machine that Mittendorf had laboriously repainted and refurbished. There was a melted glob of plastic, the covering for a booth he used at street fairs to sell his art. Mittendorf makes bronze and brass door hooks, door knockers, chandeliers and other items in shapes ranging from snakes to beetles.

His partner of many years, Martinez, also has had trouble sleeping since the 2 a.m. Sunday fire. The couple were about to start watching a cable movie when Martinez looked out the bathroom window and saw flames.

"I have a lot of anger. I hope they catch him or her or whoever did this," she said. "It's such an insidious, cowardly crime. It's so faceless."

She remembers Mittendorf running outside, desperately trying to quell the 20-foot flames with spray from their garden hose. It didn't help. She remembers hearing the explosions from old radio and TV vacuum tubes in the garage.

She remembers how thankful she was that the fire didn't spread across the dry grass and into their home, where Mittendorf kept his art supplies, including wax and flammable chemicals. And, on recent nights, when she's heard the sound of fire engines, "I get upset and hope it's not another arson."

The couple had gotten a few hours of sleep when, around 9 on Sunday, the doorbell rang. It was the city arson investigators.

"There was about five of them. They looked official with badges on their hips," he said.

Mittendorf answered their questions, such as, "Does anybody hate you or have a grudge against you?"

No, he replied, although he jokingly said he himself had grudges against customers who hadn't paid for artwork they had purchased.

On Tuesday, when the insurance person came around, her comment was, "It's totaled."

Mittendorf is trying to figure out if the insurance payment will be enough to build a new garage. Maybe so, with the help of some friends, he thinks.

Meanwhile, he keeps loading the pickup for the dump run.

With the smell from the fire still permeating the back yard, Mittendorf kept piling up the trash. It was a bit like dealing with terrorism, he said. You can't let it stop you.

"You sit around," he said, "you won't get anything done."

Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com