Moving

This and the 'other' site are merging into a new common space. All future updates, ranting, pictures, and other miscelaneous detritus will be found at http://web.mac.com/m_reiser.

All or Nothing

Up In Smoke...

It all depends upon what side of the pool you live on. That is the dividing line, the border between those who have homes tonight and those who are looking for a new place to live. And in the burned out area it seems to be a matter of luck- maybe you have everything, maybe you have nothing. All determined by the fickle finger of Fate.

Many of you have already heard about the recent events. The best articles I have found online are here and here . I have a preference for the Times' article because the reporter and photographer helped get me access to people and places I could not otherwise have come close to.

The short version of the story is that a young woman, probably a student at Cal State Long Beach, was trying to cook dinner in a first floor apartment. She started a grease fire and, in her ignorance, tossed a pot of water on it. The resulting mess was sucked up by the range hood over the stove and carried into the attic above the third floor. From there the fire was able to drop through vents into apartments and hallways playing Hell all along two floors of a very large apartment building.

In the end, it took two hundred firemen and eight hours to put everything out.

But we were fortunate... very much so. As some of you know, having visited, this is a very large property, 340 units cover an area the size of a city block. There are actually two separate complexes, north and south, connected only at one point. Each complex consists of three connected, but largely independent, buildings. In this case, it appears that only one building is a total loss. Unfortunately however, everyone in the North Complex must leave- it could be months before any of them have power or water, and there is no realistic way to keep any of those units habitable.

Over here in the South Complex, we have power and water. I can barely smell the burned out shell of the other building. Except for the constant stream of people solemnly removing their possessions from the apartments that are at least salvageable.



But back to the beginning... Friday afternoon Sharon and I left at about three o'clock to get a few things at Target. We came back about four and saw smoke coming from the neighborhood of our building. Getting closer, we found that the street was closed and we had to park a block away. I sprinted to the area and saw the north part of our complex in flames. Finding Sharon, we made a quick judgment. The fire was in the north building. There were people still in the office area that divides the two structures. No fire, with a dozen trucks already on scene, could possibly travel that length, including at least four firewalls. Not quickly anyway.

So Sharon and I ran in, dashed down the hall to our apartment at the far south corner, and decided what we needed- the laptops, which have her writing and my photos - one small box of the few family heirlooms that are easily portable. Grab those and run. Not back down the hall toward the fire, but out the apartment (locking the door behind us) and across an adjacent stairwell to an emergency exit. Out to the street.

By now the police had a line around the building and there was no chance of getting back in- not that I'd want to. Decided that the fire wouldn't reach us. Not seriously at least. Anyway, it was getting dark and I noticed that our south complex still had power. Not much to say about the north side. Called my mother and told here we were coming over for the night. Drove across town and watched our neighbors on the evening news.

We were let into our place at about two the next afternoon. That was when I took my pictures. That was also when I latched on to the people from the Times and heard from the Fire Captain that this was the worst fire Long Beach had seen in thirty-six years, and the worst 'structure fire' in living memory. (A 1970 fire destroyed an entire city block when a gas main exploded.) According to him, none of the LBFD chiefs had ever seen any fire spread so fiercely so quickly. There will be questions asked. Questions about fire doors. Questions about emergency planning. But in the end, as with most great accidents, it simply seems that it was the result of everything going wrong that possibly could go wrong. Which is why we call them accidents.

Pics: here