A backhoe digging in this ditch ruptured a gas main this morning
This morning I got to play hero, ironically driving our electric car with our “Past Gas” license plate.
I was driving to work as usual when I turned off of Hillsborough Street onto Ashe Avenue, a spot where a new apartment building is going up. As I go by, I see a construction worker leap off a backhoe and race across the road. Others scurried away as well, eyes wide with fear. It was then that I smelled natural gas and realized the deafening roar I was hearing was the sound of a busted gas main. Yikes!
I rolled down the road for a moment or two while frantically fumbling to unlock my phone to dial 911 (I temporarily forgot I can do this from the locked screen, but whatever). I blurted out what I saw and heard to the dispatcher and gave my name and number. Though the dispatcher told me they were already sending someone out, I didn’t see or hear any first responders so I took matters into my own hands. I figured I might not be trained in how to direct traffic but any idiot can block traffic, so I pulled my car across the oncoming lane and got my geeky yellow safety vest and my emergency light out from the trunk.
Many confused and sometimes angry drivers passed by. Many asked for detour directions. Some asked what was going on. A UPS driver was considerably pushy, blocking other traffic until he was allowed to deliver to a nearby building. One dude in a red pickup truck blew right by me, only to be told to turn around at the next intersection (dumbass). Buses, dump trucks, and bulldozers passed disturbingly close to my car as it sat in the other lane. I began to sweat in the rapidly warming sun.
About 20 minutes into my adventure a Raleigh Police officer drove up. He briefly looked me over before stopping to receive instructions from his radio.
“Who are you with?” he asked offhandly.
“I’m just a volunteer,” I responded, “but I am a police department volunteer.”
He nodded his head. “Well, thanks for being here.”
“Now that you’re here do you still need me around?” I asked.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But I might need you down there.” He pointed to the intersection closer to the leak.
He moved his cruiser to the intersection closer to the leak and returned on foot, saying it was okay to open up this part of the street and inviting me to join him. I drove down and stood with him for a bit as traffic weaved around us. Soon I was pointing at clueless drivers, trying to direct them away from us and towards the detour.
“Don’t waste your time,” the officer said. “They’ll figure it out. If you go pointing to them that’s all you’ll ever be doing.”
The jerk UPS driver, having gone to this apartment, now found himself blocked in. He inched his truck up behind us.
“The UPS guy wants to come through,” I mentioned to the cop.
“He can wait,” came the droll reply. Yes! That asshole driver gets his comeuppance! The officer eventually got around to letting him through but I was secretly pleased at how long he took!
The officer eventually noted that my car, parked (legally) on the side street, might be better off somewhere else as drivers were having to drive around it. I took the opportunity to depart, shaking his hand as I walked away. The leak in the line, said to be as big in diameter as a softball, was plugged about 20 minutes later.
It was an exciting way to start the day, and fortunately no one was hurt. Including me. I like to think that the emergency training I was given a few years back in my CERT classes kicked in, especially the part where if you come upon a scene and no one is doing anything, be the one who does something. Like my CERT training taught, I elected myself the “Incident Commander” and worked the scene until someone more qualified came along.
The day was hot enough without a natural gas fire.