Triplets scarred by fire are healed by love

By Susan Dominus

updated 4:44 p.m. ET May 27, 2009

When triplets Chandra, Jordan and Trae Berns were toddlers, they barely survived the blaze that killed their mother. Now they’re telling the story of how they coped — and of the sister bond that saved them.

Chandra, Jordan and Trae Berns turn heads pretty much every time they walk into a room. It could be because they’re three beautiful 22-year-old college students, all of them tall and sporty. Or, OK, it could be because they’re identical triplets. But they believe there’s a third reason they draw people’s attention. Says Jordan, “Us being self-conscious, our first thought is always that they’re staring at us because of our burns.”

On September 21, 1988, when the triplets were just 17 months old, a suspicious fire destroyed not only their home in North Richland Hills, Texas, but also their family as they knew it. It was a little after 6 P.M., and the girls were already sleeping in their crib, all three together, the way they always did, when a neighbor saw flames shooting out of the house. Their father later said he’d been dozing on the couch and had awakened to the suffocating smell of smoke; he ran out of the house and broke the girls’ bedroom windows to pull his daughters to safety before firefighters arrived. News reports do little justice to what must have been an excruciating scene: Chandra, who was the most severely injured, suffered third-degree burns on 30 percent of her body, leading doctors to marvel that she survived at all. Jordan experienced third-degree burns on her left arm and parts of her face, and Trae, who was most likely nestled in between her sisters, had second- and third-degree burns across her chest and her face. Firefighters rescued the toddlers’ mother, Patti, a beautiful 27-year-old, from the back of the house, but she was already unconscious and died two and a half days after the fire as a result of smoke inhalation.

The police suspected arson and, after a nearly two-year-long investigation, indicted a suspect: the girls’ father. News reports cited testimony that revealed he had been abusing prescription pills and cocaine, and that he’d fired shots at Patti’s car as she drove away earlier that afternoon. But in the end, the jury, persuaded that one of three strangers seen outside the home around the time of the fire also could have started the blaze, acquitted Scott Berns. He took full custody of his daughters, then four years old, who’d been living with their maternal grandparents.

Chandra, Jordan and Trae remember almost none of this. They have no memory of the fire or the trial or the compression suits and facial masks they had to wear for several hours a day to minimize scarring, strictures so uncomfortable that the girls cried at the sight of them. They know from family stories that their father, who was out on bail during the trial, went with them to the agonizing physical therapy they endured to keep their bodies from stiffening in the aftermath of the burns. “I couldn’t have done it,” says Vicki Berns, Scott’s sister, who became a surrogate mother to her nieces. “I remember going in one afternoon to pick them up, and he’s crying and they’re crying. And as he’s helping with each exercise, he’s telling them it’s all right, they’re going to get through it. It broke my heart. It was very painful for him.”

Sealed past
Having survived the ordeal physically, the girls and their family sealed off the past, rarely talking about what happened that day. The girls accepted their father’s theory, that someone he knew had set the fire. And though their maternal grandparents spoke out against Scott after the trial, they made peace with him for the sake of the triplets. “We didn’t want to traumatize them by talking about such difficult things,” says their grandmother Sue Dusek.

The silence around the subject of their mother’s death, well-intended though it was, only added confusion to the pain Chandra, Jordan and Trae already felt. They were left to grapple with the story behind their excruciating injuries on their own. But they were never truly alone; they always had each other. The story of the girls’ lives is a story of the closest sisterhood imaginable — a bond that finally helped them begin to heal.

Courtesy of the Bern family Chandra, middle, needed extra therapy for her extensive burns.

For most of their lives, the girls didn’t think about the past; they had enough to manage in the present. Their father, the hero who had helped them through hours of therapy and who taught them to believe in underdogs, was still struggling with his drug addiction. His behavior became so erratic that by the time the girls were eight, they’d moved in with their aunt Vicki. Scott drifted in and out of their lives, and each time they wondered which man had come to see them: the “fun, kind, supportive one” who was a source of strength, or the one who was sleepy, confused and unfocused. When the girls needed consolation through all the ups and downs, says Jordan, “we went to each other and talked about it.”

Even before the fire, the family marveled at the girls’ closeness. The physical therapists who treated them called them “the ducklings,” because they came to therapy in a line, holding hands. Often they cried when they had to separate — Chandra going to physical therapy, and Jordan and Trae to occupational therapy, to regain full use of their hands.

“It’s an extremely difficult story, but they relied on each other for strength,” says Beth Ellsworth, a physical therapist who worked with the girls. “I know it sounds weird, but in some ways it’s lucky that all three were together in the fire — because I think it made them even closer.”

Video   New scar treatment gives triplets hope May 28: A new laser procedure offers hope to 22-year-old triplets who were badly burned as toddlers. Trae, Jordan and Chandra Berns talk about the treatment along with Dr. Nancy Snyderman. Today show

Their aunt Vicki, with the help of their grandparents, worked hard to give them a normal childhood: birthday parties at Six Flags, soccer games, days at the pool (where they wore T-shirts over their bathing suits to protect their scars from sun damage). Every summer they attended a camp for children who’d suffered severe burns, a place where they felt unusually free. Even in these happy times, the girls turned to each other: They not only shared a room at home, but until they were 13, they often shared a bed. Scrunched together under the covers, they would fall asleep as a late-night conversation about their lives trailed off.

‘We felt embarrassed’
High school was less sheltered, and more cruel. “There was all this whispering and pointing,” says Jordan. “Sometimes kids acted like we couldn’t hear or something — ‘Did you see her arm?’” Says Trae, “It was humiliating.” Friends told them about boys at school who thought the triplets were pretty and would have considered dating one of them — if it weren’t for their scars. The girls started wearing long sleeves all the time, even in the Texas heat. Pools, lakes, Six Flags were suddenly off-limits, as other people’s stares became too uncomfortable.

Their father’s and mother’s absence from their lives added to the isolation they felt. “Your parents are a huge part of your life, and when they’re not around, it raises questions for your friends,” says Jordan. Their father’s struggle with addiction also made it impossible for them to open up. “We felt embarrassed,” says Jordan. They dated boys casually but were too closed off to share what was really happening in their lives.

That protective shell earned them a devastating nickname: the “burn bitches.” Chandra, and sometimes Jordan, countered the chatter with a levelheaded, Zen attitude: “Just rise above it.” When they needed a feisty defense, Trae shot back with, “They’re just ignorant.” It helped that all three have a strong religious faith and share a sense of humor. “My sisters are all the therapy I’ve ever needed,” says Jordan.

The girls worked on each other’s makeup, mixing foundation and base until the scars were almost invisible, and encouraged each other during shopping trips, pushing Trae, for example, to try a V-neck, even if it meant exposing some scarring on her chest. If Chandra was irritable, Jordan and Trae knew, before she apologized, that she was probably suffering from recurring pain in her back, where her scarring was so severe that she later needed another skin graft. Most of all they talked, sharing every detail of what was hurting them and trying to make sense of their overwhelming worries about their dad.

MORE FROM HEALTH

Health Section Front

Woman meets the stranger who saved her life Is your medication making you sick? Resist the temptation! 8 portion control tricks Clinic with two doors, a symbol of two-tier care New guidelines: Pap smears can start at 21 Movie popcorn, soda = 3 burgers, 12 butter pats Kate Moss’ use of pro-anorexia slogan draws ire Buy local, think healthy — it tastes sweeter   Santa wants a swine flu shot   Bicycling seniors hit the road Health Section Front   Add Health headlines to your news reader: