Nine One One

Black smoke. Was there a controlled burn today? That seemed unlikely, given where I guessed the source was.

Black smoke meant that no one was trying to extinguish the blaze (yet). More and more it billowed, and soon enough my hunch was confirmed. One of the quasi-permanent structures along the creek was being consumed by flames. A few souls have been erecting shelters on the water company's land for the past several years, undeterred by the “No Trespassing” signs that reference the relevant section of the penal code.

Several vehicles had stopped on both sides of the road; one man was on the other side of the fence, taking photos. I parked myself and my bike safely on the sidewalk.

Why wasn't the fire department already here? Had everyone assumed that someone else had already called it in?

It used to be the case that if you used a mobile phone to call 911, the call would be routed to a central dispatch center staffed by the highway patrol. After (too) many rings, I discovered my call had connected to San Jose's emergency response, and ... that all dispatchers were busy, please stay on the line. [Sigh.] Surely someone had reported this fire by now?

Standing there with my cell phone in hand, a driver pulled up alongside. “It's been called in, they've dispatched and they're on the way,“ he reassured me. And so we waited, helplessly watching as the main fire sparked two or three spot fires. Thank goodness it wasn't windy.

Paramedics were first on the scene. There was no hydrant nearby, but evidently some of the fire trucks carry a water supply. The smoke turned from black to white, and I pedaled away.

Many years ago (and many miles away), I had been puttering in my garden when it finally registered that I was hearing a high-pitched tone. Recognizing it was a smoke alarm, I dashed into the house to confirm it wasn't mine. (Whew.) But where was it?

As I approached my neighbor's house, I realized it was theirs. I had seen them leave earlier, but maybe someone was still at home? No one picked up the phone. I walked back, wondering what I should do. I gazed up at the kitchen window and saw smoke swirling. I ran back to my house and dialed 911. I was stunned to hear sirens before I could head back outside. Within thirty seconds? Definitely less than a minute.

As it happened, my neighbors returned to see the fire department on the scene, using a giant fan to exhaust the smoke.

“Thank you for saving our house!” they exclaimed. The fire captain turned toward me and pointed. “She's the one who saved your house,” he said.

That day I learned the importance of not being a bystander.