My apartment building caught on fire week before last, and I never did blog about it. For posterity's sake, though, I kind of feel like I should. THEREFORE:
At a little before 5AM, I woke up to the sound of an alarm bell ringing. At first it just insinuated itself into my dreams, as those kinds of things do when your mind is fighting to stay asleep, but sadly I can't remember how. Anyway, once the smell of burning residence started to accompany the bell, I figured I should probably at least see what was going on.
My first thought was that the bell sounded like it was coming from across the street, which I was pleased about, since it meant I could go back to sleep. It wasn't until later that I realized that was kind of a crappy thing to think.
As the smell grew, and as I could start to hear the sirens of approaching emergency vehicles, I figured it was really time to get up. When a peak out of my living room window showed that the people on the street were looking up at my building, I figured it was time to grab some clothes and get out. Now that I don't live with cats I couldn't think of anything that I really couldn't live with being burned, so I just grabbed my keys and went outside to join the milling-about.
I started seeing if there was anyone who had more info than I did, or if there were at least someone that I'd be able to talk to for a bit. I realized that I know not a single one of my neighbors now that Katie's moved out, which kind of depressed me. I did eventually end up talking to a pretty cool lady who was out there with a kitty carrier, so that certainly helped pass the time while watching the firefighters, in full regalia, march through the building in gas masks and snake their big-ass hoses in through the lobby. My worry was that they would have to enter the units, and mine was in a state of such messiness that I would have been embarrassed to be associated with it.
I sent a tweet/FB post from my phone saying "great, now my building is on fire", which people later told me was so calm sounding that they assumed was either a joke or a quote from something. I also sent a text to Donna, since she has a connection to the place having previously lived there, and just because she's always the one I tell first when I have big news.
Eventually the head firefighter came over and talked to us, and he was everything a head firefighter should be: in his early to mid forties, tall with a bit of doughiness starting to overlay a powerful build, and just the right amount of "grizzled", 'cause you just can't have a head firefighter who's not grizzled. He told us that the fire started in unit 103, which is happily about as far from me (in 408) as is possible in the building, and that the damage was limited to that apartment and perhaps the one next to it. His men were just checking the air quality throughout the building for carbon-dioxide and -monoxide, and that we'd be able to go in after about 10 minutes. At that point I was fully awake, so after we were let back in I pretty much just brushed my teeth, took my medicine, and headed to work.
I pretty much see it as an oddly positive experience; I got in early to work, my place didn't burn down, I got to meet a couple of my neighbors, and I got a story out of it.
