Date: Tue, 28 May 1996 15:27:06 -0400
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From: Ian Webb <ian_webb@virginia.edu>
Subject: Fuel Lines (true story...happened this morning) (long)
Sorry for taking up all the bandwidth, but this story wouldn't be good
without ALL the details...
It started out like any lousy, rainy Monday. Except that it was already
Tuesday. Get up late, eat, iron the shirt, head off to work. It has rained
all weekend here in Roanoke, Virginia and I got stopped and diverted by
water cascading over a low bridge, so I head off in another, more congested
direction.
Being even later for work now, I decide to take a "short cut" into downtown
Roanoke behind the Hotel Roanoke and over the 1st street bridge, only to
find out that the 1st street bridge is closed for some unknown and
unapparent reason. So up to 5th street I go to cross the railroad tracks
WAY out of my way, make it back down to my office building, weave thru
firetrucks parked outside of my parking garage, get onto the entrance ramp
to park only to be stopped in traffic waiting to enter the busy parking
garage. wait. wait. wait a little longer. ask a security guard what's
going on (he doesn't know...only that a van has caught on fire up on floor
2B)...wait. wait. 10 minutes click by and I'm still stuck on the entrance
ramp, between the gate and the curb with (by now) hundreds of anxious
commuters honking their horns behind me.
Finally the parking garage manager walks by and I suggest that if the fire
is on 2B, then why doesn't she let the rest of us park on the "A" side (not
affected by the fire) so that we can unclog traffic and get to work. She
agrees that its a good idea and instructs one of her cronies to lift the
gate and let everyone on to the "A" side. At that point in time we discover
that the drivers of the 2 cars in front of me have abandoned their vehicles
to "manage" the situation, or perhaps to just chat with the firemen. They
are finally located and move their cars.
I park, get out, proceed down the stairwell (thinking that the elevator is
probably out since there is a fire in the building). I get almost down the
first floor when I hear a rush of water, only to look up in time to see a
waterfall cascading down the stairwell. I jump into the corner just in time
to stay dry (or partially dry) and try to figure out my next move.
(Apparently some kids had gone thru the garage opening up all the dry fire
department's "standpipe" connections so that when the fire department hooked
up the water and turned it on, it came out of the 12 fire hose connections
above me in the stairwell.) Then two or three wet, perturbed, and cursing
firemen run by me trying to shut down the 12 open valves so they can get
water to the now obviously burned up van (it had been at least 15 minutes
since I wove my way thru their trucks).
I wait in the corner hoping the waterfall will have mercy on me and quit
soon, but after several minutes of waiting I decide that I've got to get to
work sometime today and that all that water is gonna take a while to make it
down to me... So I bite the bullet, grab the handrail and make a dash
downstairs thru the waterfall.
I made it to work 40 minutes late.
During my lunch hour, I went up to check out the burn victim. I think it
was a 70 or 71 white (or used to be) Westy. Figures. I talked to the
fireman who was still cleaning up. He grumbled something to the effect of,
"I bet that guy wished he'd checked his fuel lines. All these damn busses
burn up eventually..."
ian
Ian Webb, Assistant Director
University of Virginia Roanoke Center
Phone: (540) 857-7922
Fax: (540) 857-7936
ian_webb@virginia.edu
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