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Well, that was a bad way to wake up.
Nov. 20th, 2004 11:23 amAround 4 AM sirens woke me up. There had been aggro on the street all night so I didn’t think anything of it at first. Thanks to my therapist-office white noise machine, I was successfully zoning it out and falling back to sleep when I realized the sirens had stopped right in front of my apartment. And the room filled with flashing lights.
I looked out the window and a fire truck was outside. No, three firetrucks were outside.* People on the street were pointing my direction and yelling, "It’s on the second floor!"
Still, woken from a deep sleep I was having denial. I got dressed quickly and, luckily, grabbed my boots and a coat but there was no smoke I could smell and no flames. I didn’t get my first hit of adrenaline until my housemate opened her door and said that smoke was billowing out of the second floor of the next door building.
Seconds later neighbors on our first and second floor starting banging on the door to get us out. I rousted my housemates and houseguests ( Hello![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
de_gustibus who were having their own denial issues. It seemed like forever, but I think we were actually all out of there in under three minutes.
The last thing I saw when leaving was that the back windows were glowing orange from the flames which were on the back of the neighbor’s house. We joined all the other folks, cats and dogs from our building, the burning building, and the building on the other side. Many people were already wrapped in fire department blankets. Thankfully, everyone got out safe.
Most San Francisco apartments are built on top of each other with only inches separating the buildings. The burning building was covered in aluminum siding which was melting and falling away in jagged clumps. Fire fighters smashed out their front windows. Then they ran up our stairs with a hose.
I found myself getting greedy. When I saw the flames I was happy to get out alive. When I saw them run up the stairs, I really didn’t want them to soak down my computer and my books. Then I realized I was being stupid.
It was really cold for a San Francisco night, especially since many of my neighbors were in bare feet. Weirdly, those of us on the street represented most of the long term tenants on the block since all the building had at least one master tenant, like me, who has lived on the block for over ten years. As we waited to see what would be burned or destroyed we discussed the whereabouts of old neighbors and the pros and cons of having a block party. We ignored the fact that some of us would have no apartment to go back to when the night was over.
But that was the small talk to pass the time. As in any disasterthat I’ve been through, small or large, people immediately started pulling together. Clothes, coats, and shoes were found for those without them. De Gustibus and I went to Safeway and bought water for everyone since we had been breathing smoke for awhile. Other renters on the block were taking people and pets in and making hot drinks.
My houseguests had to be at a conference and one had to give a paper at 9 AM this morning. They left, still smoky, for BART at 8, about an hour after we got let back in the apartment. The firefighters continued to clean up the smoldering wood leaving a fairly large pile on the street to be picked up who-knows-when. After the finished the clean up work, there was full-on fireman beefcake action on my little street as they took off their shirts and changed their sooty, smoky clothes. Someone videotaping that could have raised some of the money needed to keep the firehouses open.
Luckily, we live two blocks from a fire station. Luckily, it was open this week.** Last week it was closed due to the budget crisis. Those minutes probably saved our house. The wall we share with our second floor neighbors is charred and black. My office smells like the hickory farms store. But nothing was ruined. And yeah, I feel pretty lucky.
*Later there would be five plus the Red Cross truck and various cop and fire department cars.
** I don’t feel snarky today, but I should point out that the fire station that responded first was the one that was recently raided for substance abuse issues. I’d rather have drunk and stoned fire fighters than no fire fighters. I mean, duh.
I looked out the window and a fire truck was outside. No, three firetrucks were outside.* People on the street were pointing my direction and yelling, "It’s on the second floor!"
Still, woken from a deep sleep I was having denial. I got dressed quickly and, luckily, grabbed my boots and a coat but there was no smoke I could smell and no flames. I didn’t get my first hit of adrenaline until my housemate opened her door and said that smoke was billowing out of the second floor of the next door building.
Seconds later neighbors on our first and second floor starting banging on the door to get us out. I rousted my housemates and houseguests ( Hello
de_gustibus who were having their own denial issues. It seemed like forever, but I think we were actually all out of there in under three minutes.The last thing I saw when leaving was that the back windows were glowing orange from the flames which were on the back of the neighbor’s house. We joined all the other folks, cats and dogs from our building, the burning building, and the building on the other side. Many people were already wrapped in fire department blankets. Thankfully, everyone got out safe.
Most San Francisco apartments are built on top of each other with only inches separating the buildings. The burning building was covered in aluminum siding which was melting and falling away in jagged clumps. Fire fighters smashed out their front windows. Then they ran up our stairs with a hose.
I found myself getting greedy. When I saw the flames I was happy to get out alive. When I saw them run up the stairs, I really didn’t want them to soak down my computer and my books. Then I realized I was being stupid.
It was really cold for a San Francisco night, especially since many of my neighbors were in bare feet. Weirdly, those of us on the street represented most of the long term tenants on the block since all the building had at least one master tenant, like me, who has lived on the block for over ten years. As we waited to see what would be burned or destroyed we discussed the whereabouts of old neighbors and the pros and cons of having a block party. We ignored the fact that some of us would have no apartment to go back to when the night was over.
But that was the small talk to pass the time. As in any disasterthat I’ve been through, small or large, people immediately started pulling together. Clothes, coats, and shoes were found for those without them. De Gustibus and I went to Safeway and bought water for everyone since we had been breathing smoke for awhile. Other renters on the block were taking people and pets in and making hot drinks.
My houseguests had to be at a conference and one had to give a paper at 9 AM this morning. They left, still smoky, for BART at 8, about an hour after we got let back in the apartment. The firefighters continued to clean up the smoldering wood leaving a fairly large pile on the street to be picked up who-knows-when. After the finished the clean up work, there was full-on fireman beefcake action on my little street as they took off their shirts and changed their sooty, smoky clothes. Someone videotaping that could have raised some of the money needed to keep the firehouses open.
Luckily, we live two blocks from a fire station. Luckily, it was open this week.** Last week it was closed due to the budget crisis. Those minutes probably saved our house. The wall we share with our second floor neighbors is charred and black. My office smells like the hickory farms store. But nothing was ruined. And yeah, I feel pretty lucky.
*Later there would be five plus the Red Cross truck and various cop and fire department cars.
** I don’t feel snarky today, but I should point out that the fire station that responded first was the one that was recently raided for substance abuse issues. I’d rather have drunk and stoned fire fighters than no fire fighters. I mean, duh.
