Last night, as we were getting ready to go to bed, we noticed an unusual and distant beeping noise.
We opened windows to try to find the source, but we couldn't tell from inside the house, so B went outside to investigate. I stayed indoors because I wasn't sure if my onesy footie pajamas were dressy enough for outdoor nighttime wear.
B deducted that the noise, which sounded suspiciously like a fire alarm, was coming from our next-door neighbors' house. Unfortunately, neither of them was home, and our attempts to find out their phone number from neighbors were wildly unsuccessful.
Did I mention that we share a wall with these people? Such is the nature of townhouses--if your neighbor's house burns down, he takes out the whole neighborhood. I suppose the incentive to watch over the property of your neighbors takes on new importance.
Since we couldn't reach the owners, calling 911 seemed like the only option. I used to think that 911 was supposed to be used only in the cases of gunshot wounds, severe car accidents, and confirmed fires. However, I have since learned that it's simply the convenient way to contact police, fire, and ambulance, and imminent death is not a requirement.
The 911 operator was calm but seemed hung up on the fact that we couldn't get into the house. If we had been able to get in, there wouldn't have been a need to contact them. But I let it go and told her that we were still trying to get in touch with him, and she said she'd send the truck out.
I changed out of my footie pajamas into real clothes, since I was going to have to go outside and socialize. Luckily the temps have been mild (for February, anyway) lately, so it wasn't too cold out there.
The fire chief arrived first along with an ambulance, and the fire truck (with flashing lights and everything!) showed up next. The fire chief had not been informed that we weren't able to get into the house, but he and the firemen walked around the perimeter of the unit to look for signs of a fire inside.
They couldn't find any evidence to justify chopping down the front door, and after waiting for 15 minutes or so with still no luck reaching the owners, they told us that they were going to clear out. We could call if we noticed any evidence of fire. And good luck to us, falling asleep with a fire alarm going off next door. As if that was going to happen.
We went back inside and prepared ourselves for a sleepless night, but luckily, one of the owners arrived back home 30 minutes later and fixed the problem (I believe it was a dead battery, but that conclusion is based on a conversation overheard through a window--after I put my footie pajamas back on, I was not interested in going back outside unless I could see flames).
What an unsatisfying evening. I'm not saying that the fire department should have chopped through their door, but at least then the actions that we took would have resulted in an end to the situation.
And as it turns out, using an axe is not the only way that the fire department can get into your home. You can buy lock boxes from the fire department, put your house keys into them, and hang them outside your house so that they (or any emergency service) can always get in, even if you're not home. And they're safe because only the fire department has the key.
They recommended that we purchase one box for each building in the condo association, and it seemed like a great idea to me. The fire chief wasn't sure how much a box cost, but he thought it was somewhere in the neighborhood of $250. It's a little pricey, but he made the excellent point that it pays for itself after one chopped-down door. Plus it provides peace of mind--you can go away for a weekend or vacation and know that your house is accessible without your having to leave keys with a stranger.
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