Survivors of the gas main blast and conflagration, which occurred at 6:24 p.m. Thursday and devastated portions of the Crestmoor section of San Bruno, gathered at a makeshift shelter at Veterans Memorial Recreation Center near the heart of town to seek aid, find out the status of friends and neighbors, and simply continue processing what they had been through the night before.
With the fireball rising 100 feet in the air above Claremont Drive, Reid darted to the backyard of a neighbor's house and started going door to door to look for survivors. "There were holes everywhere in the roofs, on the decks. It was like there had been a meteor shower," Reid said. "I guess it was the asphalt from the street, raining down after being blown into the sky.
"The real heroes here are the SF airport fire and rescue," Reid said. "They hosed down the houses with [fire retardant] foam. If it wasn't for the foam, I would have lost my house." Shaking his head, he added, "There's a hole in the ground up there that's 50 feet wide."
On a sidewalk bordering the shelter, insurance companies were busily setting up tents where displaced residents could file claims and receive immediate financial aid.
"Ten minutes after we got here, we cut our first check to a family that had lost its home," Richard Baldiviez, a representative with State Farm, told AOL News. "It'll provide a place to stay, help with living expenses."
That check went to the O'Neil family. Gene O'Neil was on his way home from work when the explosion occurred, and he could see the smoke from the Bay Bridge. "When we got to the neighborhood, we could see just how bad it was, and the fellow I was riding with said, 'Hey, that's your house that's burning!'"
O'Neil's wife and twin daughters were at home when the explosion rocked their street, and they sprinted barefoot away from the flames. On of his daughters received second-degree burns on her arms, and O'Neil's wife's hair was singed, but everyone in the family survived. "I've got to take them to the doctor now," O'Neill told reporters, looking as if he still couldn't quite believe that the past 24 hours had not been a dream.
On Thursday evening, Jeff Downs, a local police officer, was nearly four miles from the blast site helping to coach his daughter's softball team. "The ground shook, and the sound, it was like 'boom-boom-boom,' and then there was the howling noise," Downs told AOL News. "I thought sure it was a plane crash. That the noise was a jet engine being revved. I used to live up on Claremont. I know everyone up there. It's incredible how small this town feels right now."
Many residents who have not been allowed back into their homes while federal officials and firefighters continue their work headed to a second shelter at the Highlands Christian School, which is located on a hillside overlooking the still smoldering houses below.
Filming the landscape with a camcorder, Fred Nesbitt shook his head in disbelief. Just two weeks earlier, he said, he lost his home at 1720 Earl Ave. due to foreclosure.
"It was about 200 feet from where that hole in the ground is now," Nesbitt told AOL News. "Guess I'm the luckiest guy in San Bruno."
Inside the shelter there were bagels and pastries set out by the American Red Cross, and staff pastor Leigh Bishop comforted those gathered.
"When it happened, I was standing in the parking lot, looking down on the town," Bishop said. "And then everything shook, and you could feel the heat, the sense of pressure. We're three-quarters of a mile away."
"I thought, 'How can anybody survive that?'" Bishop said. "A huge rolling ball of fire."
Nearby, a family who has lived on Claremont Drive for the past 15 years sat around a table, recounting a night that none of them are likely to forget. Asked how she responded when the explosion hit, 14-year-old Natalie Sorhouet's face didn't flinch.
"I ran," she said. "I was scared."





