A 2 alarm sounded midmorning, and in less than a minute Engine 13 was rolling out of the station, the engineer and Captain jumping in the front and four firefighters scrambling into the cabin behind.

Within a few, precious minutes, the engine approached a freeway bridge that crosses over the river to the west side of the city. By the noise, commotion, and chemical smoke, the crew could tell they were approaching the scene, but facing the rear, they couldn’t see the situation. They were the second engine on the scene. Slowing down, they passed a medic standing in the highway yelling, “Don’t go!! Don’t go!!!”

Disregarding him, the Captain waved his hand forward, adamantly commanding the engineer, “We’re going in, we’re going in!” What is he getting us into, Rich thought. Not long and the engine slowed to a stop, Rich grabbing the outside rail and jumping from the cabin. Finally turning to see ahead, he was momentarily stunned. “Jesus,” one guy said, and he meant it, an abbreviated God help us . They were mid-span on the bridge, and fully engulfed in flames was a double tanker carrying fuel. Engine 13 was the only crew to battle it.

The captain quickly organized the team unspooling the hose, pressurizing the system. Two guys grabbed the two hose ends, each with a back-up guy, and all four ran forward toward the heat. The flames were intense, smoke obscuring the stainless tanks in rolling black clouds. 20 yards was as close as the heat allowed, not to speak of the imminent explosive danger. “That truck was going west to the refinery; its empty!” In other words, fumes are more flammable, so it was a massive bomb that could take out the entire bridge, the main artery to the west side. The other thing on their minds? Two hoses spraying full volume wouldn’t last long.

Hot steam wrestled the smoke; a black and white melee ensued and the flames retreated down. Thinking ahead, the Captain had already radioed, “Water! We need a hydrant!” Another crew located a hydrant down below the bridge at street level, but before a hose could be roped up, the engine’s water ran out. Stubbornly, the flames resurrected. What possibly could be burning this long?

Time slowed, miserly parsing  each silent second, as they worked to connect the hydrant hose. Success, then the four men ran back to their posts. Rich stood with one hose, his back-up bracing just behind him.

He saw the explosion hurtling toward him before the sound, then another, before the sound overcame him and he buckled to his knees on the ground. Perhaps he was already going down, legs weakened from the thought that it was all over. What would death be like? How bad was it going to be?

But death didn’t come. Surprised, and practically deaf, he looked up from the asphalt and over at his back-up, who seemed just as startled to be living-breathing. It wasn’t the tanker; the heat had exploded all 18 wheels at the same time.

Standing to battle again, they beat the flames back down. Finally it became apparent what had been burning. Somehow, wedged between the two tanks, a small car had become a torch. The onramp was at least a half mile back; the driver must have merged up into the truck at just that point, dragging enough sparks to catch fire. Other engines were allowed to risk the danger, so the fire was soon out.

The scene morphed into clean-up detail…