There was water in the system. The problem was that it could not maintain the volume and pressure the crews needed at that location. The neighborhood was already near the end of a vulnerable upper zone, and the electrical outage had deprived the booster station of normal operation. The official report would later establish the precise sequence, but in that moment I saw only two firefighters trying to make a limited supply do an urgent job.
The first engine's crew adjusted their plan while dispatch worked on additional resources. Water tenders were coming from other stations, but they were several miles out on a road being used by evacuation traffic and emergency vehicles. An engine near the corner was also trying to establish supply. The crew at the upper hydrant had a narrow window in which the first spot fire could be prevented from taking the fence line.
I stood in the rear yard with my hand on the gate latch, looking at five thousand gallons of water that had been sitting unused behind my garage for weeks. I knew the tank was not enough to fight the whole fire. I knew the fire department would have to decide if it could be used safely, and that an engine could exhaust the available water in minutes if it ran at full capacity. But it was the reserve I had installed for precisely this situation.
I opened the side gate and secured it so the wind would not swing it shut. Then I stepped back into the driveway, kept my hands visible, and waited for an officer to notice me. I did not run into the active area or try to give instructions to people whose radios were already carrying too many voices. The last thing they needed was a civilian complicating their access.
A battalion officer came up the driveway scanning the available space. He was moving toward the service lane when the tank caught his eye and he stopped. His name tag read MORROW, and there was soot along the cuff of his jacket. He looked from the tank to me.
"How much water?" he asked.
"Five thousand gallons. Full as of this afternoon."
"Approved connection?"
I pointed him toward the labeled outlet and explained that the layout had been reviewed during installation. He crossed the pad, checked the arrangement, and looked down the driveway to judge whether an engine could maneuver into position. He asked whether I had ever had the tank independently tested, and I showed him the commissioning record from Rachel's crew. He read the relevant page quickly and called the information to his radio operator.
I heard my address, the phrase static water supply, and the capacity repeated over the radio. Another voice confirmed the location, and Morrow requested direction from the incident commander. He did not simply throw a valve because a homeowner told him it would work. He checked the access and the equipment, which was exactly what I had hoped a competent crew would do.