The tenants were killing time, at the entrance to the high rise, with smokes and paper cups of coffee: white clouds of warm breath rising from their conversation, white clouds of steam rising from their cups, ribbons of white cloud rising from the coffin nails.

I was there to meet a friend. The friend was late. I thought I might keep warm in the lobby but the alarm was going off and it was shrill and it would not stop.

Welcome to 200 Wellesley.

The smokers said it had been like that for hours. I asked some guys in hard hats — they were working in the building — why somebody didn’t shut it off. They said they didn’t know where the super was. I asked one of the security guards if she knew anything. She didn’t, but she agreed it was annoying.

And then one of the smokers said that, on the occasion of the fire, his alarm did not go off in his apartment. Par for the course, said the others.

After a time, there was a heated discussion off to the side. A man was tugging at his jacket, and pointing at the jacket of a tall man, and their voices began to get loud.

The first man said he couldn’t get his clothes from his apartment. The second man said the first man’s clothes were contaminated. The first man said they were not contaminated, they were merely smoky, and what was he going to do without his clothes?

They argued back and forth.

An observation: in a healthy community there is unity before, and especially after, a disaster. But if, after disaster, neighbour is arguing with neighbour . . .

So I asked a couple of the smokers what three things they would do if they were in charge.

One man said his place needed kitchen cabinets, and repairs to the wall behind the cabinets, and those repairs have been needed for a long time.

But it is not just repairs, he said; what is needed is work well done. To illustrate, he pointed to the paint job at the entrance to the building. I took a close look. He said that the walls had not been scraped before the paint was slapped on, which meant that the new paint was already flaking off.

I did not ask if he was confident about the quality of the repairs in the aftermath of the fire.

The second thing?

A woman said she’d kick out the hoarders. I suggested that some people who hoard might be dealing with mental health issues. Her tone softened, and she said those people ought to get help. I said that sort of help was costly and took time. She said it didn’t matter what it cost.

In fairness, some work has now begun to deal with hoarding in the building. I did not ask if it was too little, too late.

A third thing?

They all said they would kick out the crack addicts, who are now trickling back into the building.

How is this possible?

The crack heads have been sneaking in, wearing hard hats, disguised as workers.

Crack heads in hard hats.

As you know, a class-action lawsuit has been launched against TCHC because of the fire at 200 Wellesley. You may also know that TCHC has set up an office in the community centre across the street where tenants are being offered money to compensate for their losses.

Take the money now, and lose the right to participate in the lawsuit. Tension, therefore, between those in need, like the man who can’t get his clothes, and those who can afford to wait.

Unity. Community.

Hard hats.

Hah.

Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca