the old normal

Just after getting home from our usual early evening walk, we heard sirens on the street. Annoyed by the deafening pitch, I mockingly said, “is that really necessary?” J looked out the window and replied wryly, “um, the house across the street is on fire.” Soon enough about a hundred firefighters were occupying the street in front of our row house. They used the sidewalk as a staging area with a little white marker board to keep track of logistics and coolers filled with water and some strange green liquid served from a large pump bottle. After about two hours, one firefighter arrived with four large pizzas. It seems the fire wasn’t the only thing burning calories.

The aftermath was filled with gawkers passing by, firefighters coming and going, and displaced residents returning to their charred homes to scavenge their belongings. About 30 residents in total were displaced by the fire, most of them belonging to the Phi Chi fraternity house where the fire began. All the people made it out safely, but a few pets didn’t.

Tonight, the City has posted private security to keep people from entering the heavily damaged buildings—two row houses filled with smokey black water. I wonder if they do that for all residential fires or just in certain places. The whole block still smells like camp fire.

I’m definitely grateful for the hard working Philadelphia firefighters and the roof over my head tonight.