fire in Ward 3
Monday afternoon, a friend called me.
“Marjorie Cranberry! Are you home right now?”
“No, I’m in Silver Spring, dogsitting,” I told him. “What’s up?”
“Well, your building in on fire.”
“WHAT?”
“Yeah we just drove past it and there’s all kinds of smoke coming from the roof.”
My neighbor texted me a similar photo, but it was hard to tell if the fire was on the roof or a top floor. Either way, it was dangerously close to my unit. She told me everyone had evacuated and they were making sure all the dogs and cats were accounted for.
I panicked, of course, thinking it was my fault. That maybe I’d left the stove on when I was home for a few hours Sunday afternoon. I hear this is common for adult children of alcoholics who also spent their adolescence in Catholic school.
"They’re replacing the roof,” I reminded myself. “Someone probably got sloppy with a blowtorch.” 1
My neighbor texted again once the fire was out and they were letting people back in. On the drive home, I tried to imagine what it would be like to walk into a dark apartment where everything had burned. Like, what would upset me the most.
It’s a parlor game, right? If your house was on fire and you had to run, what one thing would you grab on the way out the door, aside from people and pets? Your answer is supposed to show your common sense, or your loyalty to family memories, or something that conveys you are righteous and practical and smart.
I’m ashamed to admit the first loss I imagined was my closet of vintage dresses. Maybe 30-40 hangers’ worth of stuff I rarely wear. None of it worth any real money.
The second imaginary loss was my grandparents’ letters. Which were all digitized and published in blog form ages ago. But still.
The last was my passport. Because I’m traveling in a few weeks. Legit concern.
And then my brain was like, “OK that’s enough catastrophizing. Who’s got jokes??”
Links
A long profile of a SF park ranger who actually helps homeless people. (SFStandard)
A painful-looking device that can help you with “tech neck.” (Wired)
This minestrone recipe. I used butter beans and it was so good. (NYT)
If you like NYT’s word games, you might also like Bracket City. (Bracket City)
Disco ball animal sculptures. (My Modern Met)
Chiropractor for gassy girls. (TikTok)
A tool that let’s you rename the Gulf of Mexico to anything you want. Send me your best (worst) titles? (Mapquest)
Devoted Christian Donald Trump asks priest “What’s that black shit on everyone’s forehead?” (Hard Times)
Apparently a resident ignored all the “stay off the roof because we’re replacing it” signage and also failed to put out a cigarette. No one was hurt. My apartment is fine. Some people may have some water damage in their units from the fire hoses. It could have been so much worse. ↩