While a record-breaking winter storm was hitting Philadelphia, students were made to go into harsh conditions if they resided in the 1940 dormitory at Temple University. Students attempting to get work done, take showers, or sleep had to pause these activities to leave for unknown reasons.
The first heart-stopping alarm went off in the dorms around 11 p.m. on Saturday Jan. 24; the second hit the next day around 1 or 2 p.m., and then, during the heart of the storm around midnight on Sunday Jan. 25, the third and final one went off.
“It scared me every single time. By the last alarm, I was so annoyed because I wanted to know who kept setting off these alarms,” said Erin Bamford, a resident in 1940.
Rumors suggest that it was an individual who purposefully pulled at least the third one, but nothing has been confirmed. Resident Director Matt Hulett was unable to respond to questions.
After each alarm, fire trucks came to scope the scene, leaving only after a few moments and sending residents back inside with no information.
“Once it goes off, I know it is the kitchen or someone in their room being a bad cook so I’m like again? Dammit. I think everyone’s initial thought was ‘who caused this’ and ‘why is the fire alarm right on top of the stove,’ but also, they are over-cooking everything,” said fellow 1940 resident Janiiya Ade.
The following Monday at 1 a.m., an official email regarding the fire alarms was sent to every 1940 resident from Hulett. The email discussed the importance of leaving the building no matter what, and announced that the kitchen will be closed until further notice.
Hulett stresses in this email that safety is the key point for these alarms, and that it does not matter what 1940 residents are in the middle of when the alarms go off. There are legal reasons as to why residents must leave, and that ignores whether the alarm goes off while residents are in the shower, in online classes, etc.
The repeated alarms agitated students, and the lack of information was not helping ease the tension from residents.
“These alarms are like PTSD when I hear the alarm. It’s like the same to hearing the alarm when you must wake up and you think, ‘Ugh not again. What other food burned again, who doesn’t know how to cook today,’” said 1940 resident Nevaeh Sessoms.
During the alarms, students found safety and warmth within stores nearby; 7/11, Maxis, and anything else they could find that was open. Students also heated up in the library, sitting in the 24/7 section, alongside students who were already studying.
“The third time, it was a bit of a winter wonderland. I saw kids throwing snowballs, gathering in 7/11, and I went to J&H dining hall to eat,” said Sessoms.
While the alarms forced students outside involuntarily, they were still able to find a little joy in it despite the circumstances.