It was meant to be a morning filled with birthday smiles, small celebrations, and the simple joy of another year of life.
Instead, August 6, 2021 became the day Sabrina Dunigan’s world was reduced to ashes.

Before the sun rose, a fire ripped through the apartment where her five children were sleeping. Smoke filled the rooms in seconds. Flames followed faster than fear itself. By the time anyone realized what was happening, the home was already an inferno.

Sabrina didn’t stop to think. She ran barefoot toward the fire, screaming her children’s names, again and again, trying desperately to force her way inside. The heat burned her skin. The smoke stole her breath. Still, she fought forward.

Firefighters pulled her back — and she broke free.
They restrained her — and she fought harder.

“I have to save my babies!”
“I can’t leave them!”

Inside the burning home, five young lives never made it out.

Two of her children were found together in a bedroom, as if clinging to one another in their final moments. Three more were discovered unconscious in another room. None survived.

Five children.
Five funerals.
All on their mother’s birthday.

Their grandparents escaped only by jumping from a window, forced to leave everything behind as flames swallowed their home. Neighbors could hear Sabrina’s screams echoing through the streets:

“Not my babies… please, not all of them…”

The cruelty of the tragedy cut even deeper. Just months earlier, Sabrina had already lost a home to fire. She was rebuilding her life, fighting to give her children safety and stability once again. And then, in one devastating morning, everything she lived for was gone.

The community came together in grief, lighting candles and placing teddy bears in their memory. They spoke of five bright souls taken far too soon —
a dancer with endless energy,
a little artist with curious hands,
a shy giggler with a soft smile,
a protective child who looked out for the others,
and the youngest, who followed Sabrina everywhere, calling out, “Mama.”

Now, Sabrina prays to them every day. She imagines them together in heaven — laughing, holding hands, watching over her, waiting for the day they will be reunited.

Some tragedies cannot be undone.
Some pain has no words.

All we can do is remember — a mother who ran into the fire without hesitation, and five little stars whose light left this world far too soon.

🕊️ Rest in peace, sweet angels.
May God wrap their mother in strength until the day she holds you again.