A Fire Alarm Resounds.

Which is what happened last night at 10:20. It sounded as if the last trump might be in progress.

I called 911. I was asked if I smelled smoke or saw fire (after the dispatcher told me who I was, and where I lived). I said ‘no’, just the building’s fire alarm going off.

I was told I better get out.


Which I did, after I checked the building (laundry room especially). On the second floor I did see smoke – smelled like fish. Buddy at the end of my hall was also there. I asked if he was going to the third floor. He said ‘yes’, so I did decide to leave.


I propped open the front door and waited outside with the very few other tenants who also left.

First fire truck within three minutes.

Two others in the next five minutes.

I told the firefighters of smoke on the second floor.


And that was pretty well it.

Grease fire.

We tenants milled around for twenty minutes. It was a pleasant night out.

A firefighter turned off the alarm.

Moderate smell of smoke on my floor.

The other two fire trucks stayed up on the intersection of the two streets.

All returned to normal.


I don’t need to go anywhere for Friday night excitement.