In his half-asleep state, Diaz thought a domestic quarrel was ensuing in his 84-unit apartment complex at 877 Willow St. But he quickly discovered that wasn't the case.

As the smoke billowed out of the building, neighbors pounded on Diaz' door to wake him. Coming out of his sleep he finally realized what they were yelling: "The building is on fire."

Diaz grabbed his pregnant wife, 65-year-old father and his 8-year-old and 3-year-old daughters, and fled the burning Glen Willow apartment building.

"I got them out, and I went back in and got the little stuff I needed because I thought I would lose everything," Diaz says.

Diaz managed to save his children's birth certificates and his green card before reuniting with his family on the Willow Street sidewalk along with the rest of his neighbors, who watched the building burn.

On the sidewalk, residents cried and wondered how the fire had started on such a cold and rainy morning. Many, like Diaz, had heard screams--children calling for their mothers, people trying to locate family members and neighbors, or others simple hollering, "Fire."

Several tenants said they would not have woken up if neighbors hadn't knocked on their door to make sure they evacuated the building. Many didn't heard any fire alarms, and because the building was constructed in the 1960s, it predates the requirement for sprinkler systems.

The Glen Willow apartment complex is made up of an east and west wing. The east wing faces Bird Avenue and the west wing faces Willow Street. According to San Jose Fire Chief Jeff Clet, the fire began on the third floor of the east wing at around 5 a.m., destroying most of the eastern wing by burning through an apartment's ceiling and floor and the roof of the building. An 8-foot hole, called a trench cut, had to be cut into the building's ceiling to prevent the fire from spreading.

San Jose Fire Capt. Anthony Pianto added that the early morning rain wasn't a factor in getting the fire under control.

Within a few hours, the fire had escalated to six alarms, which was fought by 75 firefighters from the San Jose Fire Department and 15 firefighters from Santa Clara County Fire Department. The fire was declared contained at about 8:30 a.m., and it was under control two hours later.Clet says all 243 residents were displaced by the fire, including four people who were sent to Santa Clara Valley Medical Center for their injuries. The resident in unit No. 325, where the fire is believed to have started, suffered third-degree burns to his face, chest and arms, Clet says. Two individuals were sent to the hospital for smoke inhalation and one for diabetes complications.

The cause of the fire is still under investigation by the San Jose Fire Department and Santa Clara County Arson Task Force.

Willow Glen­based Fire Station No. 6 on Minnesota Avenue had one of the first fire fighting teams on the scene. Station No. 6 firefighter John Martinez says the five-person team arrived to find the third floor fully engulfed in flames. The fire was consuming the east wing's first floor as residents were rapidly escaping.

Under the circumstances--the severity of the fire and the number of people living in the complex--it's miraculous that almost everyone made it out, says Pianto.

The Red Cross arrived by 7 a.m., bringing three Valley Transportation Authority buses to shelter people from the rain as they searched for an evacuation center. The Red Cross also helped shelter, feed and clothe the fire victims for three days; after that the individuals would be assisted by the county's housing services parthership run by the Emergency Housing Consortium, that would help them find long-term housing.

The Glen Willow apartment complex fire is the largest since the 2002 Santana Row fire, says Red Cross spokeswoman Cynthia Shaw. And she noted that the Santana Row fire did not affect as many people.

The impact of the fire was clearly evident as the sun rose over San Jose and the sky relented its heavy rain. Residents could still be found on the street, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and waiting for information.

Finding shelter

Willow Glen resident Jim Jam, one of the spiritual assembly members from the San Jose Bahá'í Center at 945 Willow St., turned on the morning news and was shocked at what he saw.

The Bahá'í Center's neighboring apartment complex was burning and Jam's first instinct was to open the center's doors and help provide shelter for the fire victims. After trying to call the Red Cross and being routed to closed branches throughout California, Jam decided to simply go to Willow Street and offer the space.

By 10 a.m., hundreds of residents were cluttered in the Bahá'í Center's pews, as they lined up to sign in with the Red Cross.

For Jam, opening the center as an evacuation site was the right thing to do, he says.

"This is a time you realize you are one family and this could happen to anyone. It could happen to me," Jam says.

By noon, the Red Cross had opened a shelter at the Willow Glen Middle School gymnasium and transported the residents there for an overnight stay. Willow Street Pizza also lent a hand and donated 20 pizzas for lunch.

The Red Cross laid blue tarp on the gymnasium floor and set up a series of cots. Firefighters then told the residents that by the end of the day, one representative from each family would be escorted back into the apartment complex to retrieve essentials like medicine and clothes.

As they waited to return to their apartments, many contemplated their material losses. A handful of the Spanish-speaking residents addressed their concerns to Diaz, who helped translate their needs.

The language barrier heightened Hispanic residents' concern over the disaster because the firefighters, Red Cross employees and city official's provided instructions and information in English with only a few translators.

So Diaz became their spokesman. Throughout the day, Diaz was asked whether their rent, security deposits and the cost of their furniture would be compensated. Many also wanted to know whether they could store what they were able to salvage, he says.

"There are a lot of guys who feel lost; they feel like a tennis ball being thrown from one place to another," Diaz says. "And most of the time we don't have an answer for them because we don't know ourselves."

By 4 p.m., Gregory Clifford, the apartment complex manager, had arrived at the shelter to answer questions. Clifford had toured the apartments, and he told residents that the east wing was destroyed.

"That side of the building is completely gone. It's either smoked up, burned up or filled with water," Clifford told the residents.

Several residents responded angrily to Clifford's claims. "I think we could all get together and sue," says one woman, saying the alarm system was faulty and failed to alert residents of the fire.

In response, Clifford said any lawsuit against the owner would have to prove negligence.

Utilizing a bilingual firefighter, Clifford told the residents that the remaining rent for March and their security deposit would be reimbursed. But residents would not be able to recover the value of their belongings if they did not have renter's insurance, he says. None of the residents interviewed for this article had renter's insurance.

Residents like Diaz know that their furniture has been damaged by smoke or soaked with water. All of it will need to be replaced, he says. "We've lost everything, basically," he notes.

Because the fire did not spread to the west wing, those residents fared better. According to fire officials, that wing might be habitable soon.

Living with disaster

At the shelter, the children did not seem to take the disaster nearly as hard as their parents. As their parents sat on the bleachers blurry-eyed and dazed by the morning's fire, children ran around the basketball court playing tag. In a corner, a group of children moved cots together for an impromptu sleepover. One pregnant woman helped clean leftover paper plates and cups, while another woman helped her husband ease into a cot. There was even a cluster of young men chatting on cell phones.

As the night wore on, approximately 100 residents checked into the shelter. But by bedtime, only 30 chose to sleep in the shelter, many opting to stay with friends, families or in a hotel or motel. Some, Shaw says, simply felt more comfortable and safer sleeping in their cars.

Many of the residents were just grateful for their lives. Paul Gutierrez had been living on the first floor for seven months with his wife and three children. Although he was only able to grab his laptop, Gutierrez says he was glad that his family was safe.

Tim Kokesh, a third floor resident, also managed to snatch his computer, enabling him to continue his work as a programmer. Everything else, he says, was completely lost in the fire.

After living at the Glen Willow for 81Ž2 years, Kokesh says the only thing he'll miss in his apartment is his violin, which he played when he was younger.

"The things you mind so much are the little things," Kokesh says.

For resident Gilmer Moore, a combat veteran, being alive has its own value. "You can always get stuff, but you can never get another life," he says.