I Was at Notre-Dame the Day of the Fire
April 15, 2019 started like any other ordinary day. Spring was still a little shy, and Paris, as always, was full of life. I had gone to Notre-Dame for a moment of peace, following my usual ritual to help me center myself: entering a church, enjoying the silence, and lighting a candle. It’s a quiet, personal time, far from the usual Parisian clichés that flood the city, a journey inward, away from the crowds.
The Moment of Serenity
As soon as I stepped through the monumental doors, I was enveloped by a wave of serenity. The soft light from the stained glass windows lit up the walls, casting moving colors across the stone. The noise from the outside world seemed to vanish. Visitors wandered slowly, as if the grandeur of the place naturally imposed a certain rhythm, a certain respect. The air felt sacred, like in those timeless attractions of Paris, where you feel connected to history.
The Comforting Gesture
I made my way to the chapel where candles could be lit. I picked a small candle, lit it from another flame, and gently placed it down while whispering a thought for a friend who was going through a tough time. This simple act, always comforting, felt like the flame was carrying a piece of hope with it.
The Atmosphere Shifts
Then, the atmosphere suddenly changed. A strange smell lingered in the air. It wasn’t the usual scents of wax or incense. A few feet away, a man with a camera was staring at the ceiling, looking puzzled. And then, an announcement echoed faintly in the background:
“Ladies and gentlemen, please head to the exits.”
The Growing Agitation
At first, no one seemed to react. Some kept taking photos, others whispered to each other. But there was a subtle shift in the air. Eyes met, hesitant footsteps echoed on the stone floor. I looked up and saw what the man had been observing: thin wisps of smoke rising from the heights, almost invisible against the light.
A woman near me whispered, “Do you think it’s serious?” I didn’t answer.
The Evacuation
The voice came again, this time more firmly: “Please evacuate immediately.”
The cathedral staff was now moving quickly, guiding visitors toward the large doors. “No panic, follow the instructions,” one of them repeated, but his tone betrayed an urgent sense of worry. I joined the crowd heading toward the exit.
The Tension on the Way Out
On the way out, I passed an Italian family. The mother held her son’s hand tightly, while the father tried to comfort their daughter, who was crying softly. A group of teenagers exchanged worried glances. One of them murmured something in Spanish I didn’t understand, but the word fuego stood out to me.
I turned around one last time before stepping outside. The nave was almost empty now, but it felt more alive than ever, as though the very stones were holding their breath, like a Parisian cliché, frozen in time.
The Chaos on the Plaza
Outside, everything was different. The smoke that had been so subtle inside was now billowing in thick columns from the roof of Notre-Dame. Tourists, passersby, even taxi drivers had stopped to watch. An elderly man beside me had tears in his eyes, softly repeating, “This can’t be… not Notre-Dame.”
I joined the crowd on the plaza. Cell phones were everywhere, trying to capture the unimaginable, but no screen could do justice to what we were seeing: the flames, bright and red, devouring the roof. The black smoke seemed to swallow the Paris sky.
The Moment of Collapse
Then, in a deafening crash, the spire — majestic, iconic — collapsed. A shockwave rippled through the crowd, like an invisible wave. People were crying, whispering prayers, or standing frozen, unable to look away. This moment, this scene, marked the end of a symbol and the beginning of a historic moment.
A Universal Connection
On that plaza, there were no more languages or nationalities, just shared sadness, common dread. A woman next to me, clearly a tourist, asked in English if anyone was inside. I reassured her, as best as I could: everyone had been evacuated.
I remember odd little details that stayed with me: a couple kissing while crying, police officers trying to keep the crowd back, a child reaching his arm toward the sky as if to grab the smoke.
Feeling Connected
Amid the chaos, I felt small, yet deeply connected to the others around me, as if this shared grief united us all, beyond any differences.
Today, a Rebirth
Years later, Notre-Dame has reopened its doors. I’m eager to return one day, to revisit this sacred place and light another candle, just like I did that day. Even though everything has changed, I know that somehow, this place will always carry the memory of that unique moment. For now, I look forward to being able to return, to rediscover the strength and resilience of a cathedral that has withstood time, tragedy, and even fire.
Sarah,
Your Parisian Bestie
by 
