Fire Station 21

If it weren’t for for the bravery and professionalism of the men and women of the San Francisco Fire Department’s Fire Station 21, I might be homeless right now.
Two weeks ago, I was getting ready to take a shower when I smelled wood burning. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, so I figured my neighbors were barbecuing. While I was waiting for the water to heat up, I looked out the bathroom window and watched the clouds rush by, as I often do on windy days. Mesmerized by how windy it was, I didn’t immediately notice that the clouds were too dark to be clouds. I put two and two together, threw my clothes on, and ran to the living room. It had been a clear day when I had entered the bathroom, but it was dark now. Smoke was billowing from the back of the house three buildings down, and I could see the flames. I went to get my phone, but before I could find it, I heard sirens.
I ran down the hallway and started banging on my roommates’ doors. I didn’t know who was around, but I wanted to make sure that I woke up anyone who might be napping. Only one of my roommates was home, and I told him there was a fire upwind of us and he should get his stuff ready in case we needed to evacuate. We both ran to the living room. The flames were much higher now, and I was amazed at how quickly the fire had moved from the first floor to the second floor.
My roommate was taking pictures, and I was trying to figure out what I should take with me if we had to evacuate. I was about to put my roommate’s dog in its carrier and look for the leash when I saw the first firefighter. Before they had gotten hoses or any personnel into the backyard, here was this guy on the roof with a handheld circular saw. He immediately began sawing a rectangular hole in the roof above the kitchen. I can’t accurately explain how dangerous this looked. Besides being weighed down by all this equipment on a steeply pitched roof, he was directly above the part of the house that was on fire. There wasn’t yet any water on the fire, and it was a minute or so before another firefighter appeared on the rooftop to help his colleague, who was almost done cutting his hole. And when he was finished, he was on the short side of the roof. There was maybe four feet of slanted roof to stand on. On one side was the hole he had just cut and the fire beneath it; on the other side was a thirty-​five-​foot drop and the burning side of the building.
If you’ve spent any time in San Francisco, you know how close the buildings are to one another. There are no easements; most times, each building is literally leaning against the buildings on either side of it. And in my neighborhood, all of the buildings are wooden. My building is more than 100 years old, and although it survived the 1906 earthquake, I have no idea whether there were any fires in my neighborhood at that time. It was fire that did most of the destruction 105 years ago.
The wind was blowing hard in our direction, and there were embers flying every which way from the burning building. Many of my neighbors were in their backyards watching the fire. I opened the side window and yelled down to the woman who had been standing with her hand over her mouth for five minutes. Literally. Just standing, watching, unsure of what to do. I asked her whether she saw anything burning on our roof or the roofs of the two buildings between where I live and the fire. She said she didn’t, and I asked her to let me know if she did. I wanted to go outside, but I still didn’t know what I would take with me. I figured I would be able to see it if the fire began to spread, and I told myself that if a second building caught on fire we needed to get out.
The firefighters quickly got the fire under control. They had the hoses trained on the fire, and soon, firefighters with oxygen tanks appeared inside the building on both floors. They broke out all the windows and systematically put the fire out. It was amazing how the fire had gotten into so many places. Wherever there was smoke coming from the wall, a firefighter would break it open with an ax, and a flame would billow out. Then, someone with a hose would extinguish the flame. By the time the fire was out, one first-​floor room was completely gone, and the kitchens on both floors had no more walls. I could literally see through the building.
No one was injured in the fire. None of the residents had been home when it started. It was really sad to see the firefighters tear the house apart, but having seen how quickly the flames had multiplied, I knew that their priority after rescuing people was to ensure that the fire didn’t spread to other buildings.
I’m so glad I live fewer than two blocks from this fire station. The sirens have never really bothered me, and this is also where I vote! Thank you, San Francisco Fire Department. This is the second time I’ve seen you put out a fire in my neighborhood, and both times, you acted quickly.