What A Day

This morning, seeing that the Yeshiva was serving eggs, again, I went home to make some other sort of breakfast . . . On the way out I noticed that the Mezuzah for the front door had recently been checked and was still sitting on the living room table. Grabbing a hammer and a few nails, I put the Mezuzah in it's proper place and returned to class.

About an hour or so later, while sitting in the study hall, several sirens could be heard approaching our block and then suddenly going off. Hearing them, my study partner suggested that someone must have just been pulled over by the police.
We returned to learning.
Suddenly one of my friends walked, rather quickly, over to our table.
"Mottel?"
"Yes," I said.
"Do you live on 123 N. Formosa?"
"Yes I do . . ."
"I think you should go outside."
"Why?"
"Because I think your house might be on fire."

WHAT?

Out of the Zal I could see the street blocked off to my right,



And several fire engines to my left . . . in front of my house.






In inexplicably, the gardeners were still at work on our front lawn.

It turns out that the new tenant in the unit that shares a wall with us turned on the heater . . . and some how set the wall on fire.
Our side hadn't caught on fire, though the Firefighters later told me that had they come even a few minutes later the fire would have spread to our side (Ch"v).
Walking through the house, which had filled with a considerable amount of smoke, I noticed that

1. All the cats had run away.
2. Auggie was sitting faithfully on his cushion in the other room, guarding his post to the bitter end.
   

That's a dog for you -give me twenty cats and I'll show you twenty cowards, but give me one dog and I'll show you faith.



Returning to the living room and site of the fire, I began to move the antique Chinese cabinet away from the wall that separated the two units (You should know, that everything in my house is antique).
As I began to move the cabinet, chips of plaster and drops of water began to fall down . . . suddenly an ax came through the wall.

"Just making sure that there aren't any more flames in here", said a voice out through the now ever growing hole, "We'll be on your side in a sec."

"Thanks," I said, not quite sure what else to say.

The firefighter came over (No, through the front door, not the hole), and now joined by my study partner Y.E., began to move the cabinet together . . . only seconds before a large slab of plaster came down.

Amongst the hacking, moving, and smoke, the phone rang.

"Hello?"
"Yes," came a chipper voice on the other end, "is this 123 N. Formosa?"
'Great', I thought, 'just what I need a telemarketer.'
"Yes it is . . ."
"Is there a fire next door to you?"
"Yes there is."
"I'm calling from the West Hollywood news, do you think anyone will have to move out or need food because of the fire?"
"I'm not sure."
"Thank you, and have a nice day."
Easy for her to say, she doesn't have three firefighters poking a hole in her ceiling to drain the excess water into an antique ceramic bowl.

A couple of minutes later someone else called,

"Hello?"
"Yes," came a chipper voice on the other end, "is this 123 N. Formosa?"
"Yes it is . . ."
"Is there a fire next door to you?"
"Yes there is."
"I just wanted to make sure that your dog Auggie was alright, I know that he got lost recently."

As I said last time, the best thing to be in LA is a dog . . .





After finishing on our side, the firefighters began to pack up . . .








What a day.


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