As I start packing and readying to leave downtown Los Angeles, I’m experiencing all sorts of pangs of nostalgia. I will miss being able to walk to my physical therapy sessions, as well as my walks to the many yummy restaurants herein. Oddly, something that I will miss is seeing the fire trucks lined up at Philz coffee shop.
I have had the good fortune of living near fire stations. For many, that would not be such a good fortune as the trucks can be quite loud at all times of day and night. Yet, I have always found them to be nice, friendly and actually quite. When I lived down in Battery Park, NYC, I lived near that dear fire station that saw so many perish at ground zero on 9/11. I often choked up passing by the station. Yet, day in and day out, I saw the firefighters pose for photos with tourists. Those that run into a burning building while everyone is running away from it deserve respect. The television show Rescue Me, also showed a nuanced perspective of firefighting life.
When I lived in Berkeley my apartment building was on the same grid as the fire station, and thus, I didn’t have to experience the rolling black outs. Have you heard of those? Oh, California!
When superstorm Sandy hit New York, we were without power for eight days. We were behind a fire station but it didn’t help us with our electricity problem. Although, we were happy to know they were there in case of other emergencies.
From what I have seen here in Los Angeles, many of the fire fighters like straight drip coffee and Jersey subs. I suppose we want them alert and not weighed down by heavy foods.
I’m not too sure what the fire fighting scene will be like in my new neighborhood. Los Angeles, despite being a city, really acts like a series of suburbs. But I do know I will be within walking distance of a Krispy Kreme. We shall see who hangs out there!