Water covers a west Redding street following the rupture of a City of Redding water main. Photo by Doni Chamberlain.
It was exactly one week ago, shortly after 6 p.m., when I heard yelling outside my home. I rushed outdoors to my porch to investigate. There, I saw several neighbors standing on both sides of the street, hollering excitedly back and forth to one another.
The source of the commotion was obvious; water gushed from two large gashes in the street’s asphalt.
One neighbor said he’d already called 911. Another neighbor headed for his RV to retrieve some orange hazard cones to prevent traffic from driving over the damaged street, something needed sooner than later as one driver had already driven through the water, seemingly unaware of the asphalt blowhole which hadn’t existed before.
Within minutes, Engine 1 from the Redding Fire Department was on the scene, joined by the Redding Police Department and the City of Redding’s Public Works crews.
In no time, the street was abuzz with activity. The last time I saw neighbors take to the streets unexpectedly like this was during the 2018 Carr Fire, which resulted in our neighborhood’s mandatory evacuations as huge pieces of charred leaves and even some blackened book pages rained down from the terrifying sooty orange sky as parts of Sunset Terrace were destroyed by flames.
July 26, 2018, the Carr Fire by day in Doni Chamberlain’s neighborhood.
Even now, sometimes a random whiff of smoke takes me back to that frightening time, when law enforcement vehicles cruised the streets in darkness as deputies and police officers shouted through microphones stern orders to immediately leave the area.
But last week, the broken water main, while not good news, posed no immediate danger to residents. Since city crews obviously had the situation under control, the street quickly took on the atmosphere of a lively pop-up block party, where a harmless mini disaster provided conversational ice breakers. There were a few jokes, such as by one neighbor who laughed and said, “Hey, I flushed twice!” and mentions about flushable wipes not really being flushable after all. Neighbors who knew one another caught up with life details. Neighbors who didn’t know one another introduced themselves, and described where they lived.
“Oh! You have that house! I LOVE your yard!”
“You have chickens? Are you the ones with the rooster?”
“No. That’s not us, that’s another neighbor.”
The neighbors with chickens brought a few nifty half cartons of colorful fresh eggs to share. I was lucky enough to receive some eggs, and I promised I’d deliver some sourdough bread soon as a thank-you.
A few dog-walkers arrived, and even the dogs seemed to pick up on the party vibe, and seemed glad to see one another.
We humans discussed neighborly news, like the teenager across the street who’s learning to drive (he’ll be a great driver), and rumors of a long-vacant house that may or may not be for sale.
A guy from down the street set a small remote control boat in the current of water rushing down the street, and operated the tenacious, shoebox-sized toy boat as it successfully bounded upstream, only to be dashed into the gutter. Oh, how I wish I’d captured that on video.
I didn’t see it myself, but I heard that someone around the corner had placed a small dog on a boogie board and let the dog take a short ride over the small waves.
Neighbor Monica was in the middle of serving a Mexican dinner to guests when she heard about the events happening outside, so she and her guests abandoned their table and came outside to watch the show. She brought a tray loaded with blue tortilla chips and assorted dips from their dinner, including one of the best mango avocado salsas I’ve ever had: Diced mango, mashed and diced avocados, chopped cilantro, onion, lime, a small jalapeno (diced finely, no seeds), salt, and something else I’m forgetting. Or maybe I’m mis-remembering the part about the onion. Either way, it was delicious.
Monica’s beautifully embroidered blouse and sunflower apron are from Mexico, and she indulged me by posing for a photo.
Neighbor Monica brought chips and salsa to the impromptu block party. Photo by Doni Chamberlain.
Some lawn chairs appeared on the sidewalk. A few people drank adult beverages. One neighbor handed out bottles of water to the firemen. Monica gave a tour of her spectacular backyard to one couple, as I showed Monica’s young dinner guests my yard — which, no brag, just fact — includes my fulfilled, lifelong dreams of a grown-up treehouse and a wood-fired pizza oven.
The pizza oven will soon be a mosaic project, but you get the idea. (Yes, some cracking is expected, which is part of the reason I want to mosaic the oven, as a layer of protection from the elements.)
Conversations turned to speculations about whether we should move our cars out of our driveways and park around the corner, in case the next day’s construction closed the street to traffic. Oh, and what about water? Surely our street’s water would be turned off. This prompted a few forward-thinking neighbors to hurry home to fill jugs and bathtubs.
The sun sagged lower in the sky. Mosquitoes claimed the street as their own, and neighbors returned to their homes.
I got so caught up in talking and taking photos that I didn’t get home before public works employees lifted manhole covers and turned off the water, which halted the geyser.
Sure enough, at home, my water faucets sputtered nothing but air. No worries. I found a few gallon jugs of unopened water in my garage to get me through the night.
Outside, a new batch of city vehicles, heavy equipment and workers converged upon the street, who immediately turned their attention to fixing the broken 6-inch pipe and repairing the damaged asphalt. According to Andy Mewhirter, the city’s water system specialist, because of some of Redding’s aging infrastructure, broken water mains are not uncommon.
It’s noisy work to repair a broken street and fractured water mains, and I doubt few people on our street slept well that night, what with a racket of jackhammers, saws and whatever else is required to put a broken street and its subterranean water pipes back together. But apparently, the noise meant progress, because a little after 3 a.m. the noise stopped abruptly. Large trucks rolled away, leaving nothing but the sounds of frogs and the wail of an occasional train whistle a few blocks away.
Three cheers for city of Redding crews! The street was patched. Water flowed freely through faucets. Once again, all was well in one of Redding’s oldest neighborhoods, with its delicate, ancient pipes that provide water to awesome, friendly people.
Early the following morning a city of Redding 900-gallon water truck had arrived, and crews were hosing mud and debris from the gutter.
Photo by Doni Chamberlain.
A few days later, true to my word, I dropped off a loaf of sourdough bread to the couple who raise chickens (but no roosters).
Meanwhile, talks are underway about a planned block party in our neighborhood sometime in the upcoming months. There’s no set date, and no firm details. The only thing I know for sure is that Monica should definitely bring her mango avocado salsa.
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