IOWA CITY, Iowa (AP) -- Bev Gartner thinks of the explosion every morning when she spreads lotion onto the grafted skins on her arms and legs. Jerry Usovsky is reminded of it on sleepless nights when he reaches across the bed and finds an empty pillow.
Both are reminded in large and small ways of a house explosion that killed seven people and injured six during a Labor Day gathering in Richland five years ago.
``It makes you realize how precious life is and how quickly it can be taken away from you,'' said Gartner, of Iowa City. ``I believe God has a plan for me, and there is a reason why I'm still here.''
The blast was caused by a broken propane gas line outside Usovsky's home in Richland, about 50 miles south of Iowa City. It killed Gartner's parents, Dale and Marjorie Countryman of Birmingham; three of her sisters, Marlene Countryman and Dorothy Countryman, both of Fairfield, and Juanita Usovsky, Jerry Usovsky's wife of 12 years, of Richland; her brother-in-law Ed Cunningham of Fairfield; and Usovsky's 6-year-old daughter, Ashley Usovsky.
Five years later, Gartner, Usovsky and other survivors say the pain still lingers. But they've drawn strength from faith and family.
They've also found a cause, in advocating for gas detection devices in every home.
The Labor Day barbecue was a family tradition at the Usovsky's brick home. While family and friends gathered upstairs, the basement was filling with propane gas. Investigators later determined that Jerry Usovsky had unknowingly severed the propane line with a metal fence post days earlier.
Around 3:45 p.m., Gartner recalled feeling a ``whoosh'' before flying through the air and dropping into the dark basement. A family friend, Barb Dyer, was lying next to her.
``I said, 'Barb, this house just blew up. What ... are we going to do?'' Gartner recalled.
Elsewhere, Gartner's son Trey, his friend Josh Kleinmeyer, Jerry Usovsky and his 8-year-old daughter, Marlena, were confused but alive.
Gartner said she felt no pain at the time - doctors later said that was probably because third-degree burns on about 68 percent of her body had seared away her nerve endings.
Usovsky had third-degree burns on 25 percent of his body. Gartner's son, Trey, was knocked unconscious, had a broken right elbow and a burn on his hand.
``I remember waking up, asking what happened and seeing the house on fire,'' said Trey Gartner, now 15.
The following days and weeks brought a slow, painful recovery for Gartner and the other victims. Gartner went through 11 initial surgeries before even beginning physical therapy.
``Physically, I've healed as much as I can, and I've got to keep doing physical therapy to keep moving, but the emotional healing has probably been the worst part,'' Gartner said.
She said it's come through the help of family and friends, memories of her deceased family members and by volunteering with other burn victims.
The survivors sued five gas suppliers and two appliance manufacturers, later settling out of court. The settlements that aren't sealed show more than $6.3 million in damages.
Gartner has also tried to raise awareness of gas detectors at local schools and with other groups. She said the explosion could have been prevented had her sister and brother-in-law known about the devices.
Trey Gartner and Kleinmeyer, who suffered a broken leg, still see each other but rarely talk about the explosion.
``It bothered me that seven people had to die and why I was chosen not to be one of them,'' Kleinmeyer said. ``I put it in my past and realize that God has plans for everybody, and that was one of the bumps I had to overcome in my life.''
After the explosion, Jerry and Marlena Usovsky moved to Fairfield. He sold most of his real estate in order to devote himself to raising his daughter.
``Kids are a full-time job, especially if you're a single parent. It worked a lot better with two. Parenting isn't meant for one person, there's no doubt,'' Usovsky said. ``When you've been with that person for 12 years, it's hard because that person isn't next to you every night.''
``I'm thankful for what we had,'' Usovsky said. ``I wouldn't change anything as far as the years we had, and I might have a future yet. I don't know. I take it a day at a time, and I don't know what the future holds.''
