Member-only story
Veterans Day 2011
I felt like an idiot
The response had been well-nigh instantaneous. Sirens blared in the distance immediately after I ended the call. By the time I made it down the four flights of stairs of our fourth-floor walk-up in Manhattan, there were fire engines, an ambulance, and utility trucks outside.
It was mid-afternoon and, because of the holiday, mostly everyone was at home. I’d contacted the utility company, ConEd, because of a faulty gas stove burner. It was a simple question of what to do. They said someone would be by within the hour. End of story.
Except, the dispatcher put me on hold one last time and then I got duped. She logged the call as an emergency: “hissing pipe, gas leak, possible smoke inhalation,” which is not at all what I reported (but what the responders later told us when they showed up).
As soon as I made it outside the building, I took one look at the fire trucks and walked skittishly past them. “Where are you going!” my wife said, trailing behind me.
“I gotta get out of here!” I said. But after a few more steps, I suddenly came to my senses — about abandoning my wife and the scene and what a cowardly act that would be.
The firemen formed a line in the lobby of our co-op, about ten strong. Their sturdy black boots hit the stairs, one flight after…
