LOS ANGELES _ A fire alarm pierced the quiet of a Friday afternoon.
The sound startled Big Mama, but she wasn't worried. There had been false alarms before, and she had no reason to believe this was any different.
But then she smelled smoke, and she remembered the tent fire she had escaped while living on the street, burning her hands and feet as she tried to retrieve her papers.
The alarm continued to blare.
She hurried outside. The air smelled like burning paper. It was strongest from the unit next to hers.
She banged on the door, worried about her neighbor. But there was no answer. She started to panic. Other residents gathered in the courtyard or stood in open corridors overlooking the commotion.
The fire department arrived and finally got into the unit.
The neighbor had left a pot on a lit stove and forgot about it when he stepped out. The pot burned, and the smoke set off the alarm and sprinklers. The water and smoke damage was so extensive that Big Mama worried she might have to leave her apartment.
"Lord, I don't want to go back out on the streets again," she recalled, quick to imagine the worst.
But property management soon determined that her unit was safe, and she could stay, even as crews began to tear the damaged unit down to the studs.
