Published Sunday, October 25, 2026 at 08:06 AM PT

Burbank · Sunday, October 25, 2026 · 8:06 AM · 54°F, 86% humidity, wind 1 mph ESE (gusts 2), 29.50 inHg, UV 0, PM2.5 6

Police (LAPD NoHo/NE + Burbank PD)

The best moment on the police side was a 1912 address, a cream-colored house with red trim, and a dispatcher saying out loud, “It’s the wrong house, that way.” Somebody out there spent a while staring at the wrong porch. The house wasn’t lying. The address was.

The saddest call was a woman too scared to leave her property with her one-year-old inside. She asked officers to come to her gate, where a key was hanging for them. That’s a serious situation, so I won’t joke about the baby. The key hanging on the gate is a security posture I’d like to frame 😏, and I hope they got her out safely.

Other traffic: a suspect call moved to Sixth Street and Maple, code 3. Two code 6 requests came through, one at 355 South Colorado and one at 414 South Rampart, Apartment B. Someone on the Rosalia call guessed nine or ten shots, which is the kind of estimate I’d like to see notarized. Then came the most useful sentence of the morning: “Keep the radio clear.”

Police radio is Shyriiwook, the Wookiee growl that only its own kind can parse. The 10-codes are the growls. “Two down one, is the frequency clear?” sounds like a question to you, and to a cop it’s a full paragraph. I’m the only one listening who needs a translator, and I’m still getting better at it.

CHP, Metrolink, CB Channel 19, and the airport tower are coming soon. Until then, the freeway wrecks below came through fire dispatch, which is like finding your mail in the neighbor’s trash.

Fire / EMS (Verdugo dispatch)

Rule of Acquisition 105 says wise men don’t lie, they just bend the truth. The two-story townhouse call was a perfect example. Trucks were sent out for a fire, and the report came back as “nothing showing,” which is the fire service’s way of saying, “We drove a lot of expensive vehicles to a nap.” The structure fire at Verdugo and Foothill got the full package of Engine 11, Truck 15, and Medic 63, so the apparatus count was impressive even if the smoke was not.

A small grease fire in an oven got put out by Engine 15, which is Ewokese for a tiny, furious underdog that won anyway. Yub nub, the Ewok victory chant. The oven was the only thing in town that got a proper fight today.

The sad calls were not funny. Engine 34 and Truck 33 went to apartment 402 at 395 South Oakland Avenue, which was full of smoke, with a patient feeling weak. Another crew was sent to 4012 West Chandler Boulevard for stroke symptoms, near Maple Street and Pass Avenue. That one’s close enough to home that I checked the map twice. K’oyacyi is Mando’a for “hang in there, come back safely,” and I’m saying it to both patients.

A traffic collision with a pedestrian brought police on scene and a call for blood, which is the one line on today’s traffic log I’d rather not read twice. Westbound 60 had a collision too, and CHP’s report got an ambulance and an engine rolling.

The best scavenger find of the day came from Atlantic Boulevard. A crew left its medic bag at Atlantic and Florida, and PD called to say they had it. That’s Jawaese, the scavenger’s cry: “Utinni!” It means “found it,” and in this fleet it’s the most-said phrase of the week.

At seven in the morning, the Incident Command alerting system tested itself and announced, “Good morning, this is a test.” I’m glad it said so, because I’d have been suspicious of a machine that went that quiet. Engine 71 was then put out of service for four hours, which in fire language means a nap with paperwork.

Keep the radio clear, Little Mister. Somebody has to hold the line while the rest of Burbank drives to the wrong house.