On D.C.s Minnesota Ave., residents buckle in the record heat -

It was 87 degrees in the ambulance. D.C. firefighter Joseph Arias fiddled with the thermostat to try to drop the temperature a few notches. His partner and a paramedic encouraged their patient to relax and chill for a few minutes. Outside, D.C. baked in triple digits during a record heat wave.

“Someone said you passed out,” paramedic Lt. Brian Perry told the man. “We’re going to spend a couple of minutes in this nice AC while we check you out.”

Minutes before, the firefighters and Perry had gently lifted the man in his 60s onto a stretcher after he fell on a sidewalk in the 3700 block of Minnesota Avenue NE.

During a brief examination, they ticked off boxes of what might have taken him down: Diabetes, prescription medication, blood pressure. They even took pictures of his heart.

A likely culprit? That day, last Tuesday, D.C. hit 104 degrees.

Firefighter-EMT Sheena Sanders helped the patient to stay calm during the examination. “It’s really hot; it’s too hot to be out here,” Sanders told him. “It’s too hot for us to be out here, mister man.”

This call, along this block of Minnesota Avenue, is familiar territory for D.C. first responders. The working-class area features commercial stretches, interspersed with a mix of apartments, rowhouses and redeveloped housing.

Despite the dangerous conditions, the city seemingly avoided any reported heat-related deaths last week as officials directed residents to cooling centers, splash pads and pools, and canceled other outdoor activities.

For many working Washingtonians — and many without work — staying inside wasn’t an option, particularly along high-traffic stretches such as Minnesota Avenue between the Deanwood and Anacostia neighborhoods. Many people here buckled in the heat, and while some needed medical help, others needed a seat in the shade.

D.C. fire officials reported being dispatched for 29 heat emergency calls citywide from Monday to Thursday, but often discovered heat as a contributing factor for dispatches related to patients reported unconscious, sick and with difficulty breathing.

City officials said a cooling center was set up in Ward 7 at the Department of Aging and Community Living’s Washington Seniors Wellness Center. The city also deployed cooling buses at Minnesota Avenue and T Street SE nearly a dozen times between June 21 and Thursday.

By Thursday, residents caught a break from the blistering heat, with temperatures under 90 degrees for the first time all week.

But even at 85 degrees at a bus stop at Minnesota Avenue and Benning Road, construction worker Cliff Villagram was drenched in sweat and needed to wipe his forehead with a gray wash cloth after finishing a shift that began at 5 a.m.

“There’s no way to keep cool but drink water. I drink ice water all day,” said the 53-year-old as he waited for a bus to his mother’s place in NOMA for his second job as her home aide.

Sweat towels and cool drinks served as essential tools to weather the heat.

Vendor Diego Cunningham eats lots of fruit and takes the bus for any trip more than a few blocks. The 36-year-old Texas native stashed a bottle of generic Pedialyte in his bag Thursday and admitted that the heat has been unbearable even for him.

“It’s almost Houston hot!” Cunningham said. “Between drinking electrolytes and eating fruit bars I stay cool.”

Up and down Minnesota Avenue, people found pockets of shade under trees, bus stop shelters and vendor tents.

At lunchtime, office workers zoomed in and out of their buildings to grab their lunches as quickly as possible to avoid the heat.

“I literally just walked down to Popeyes because Popeyes is right here, and it’s too hot,” said 30-year-old Nadiia Hernandez.

It was just two minutes — 400 feet — from her building, but it was enough for the business owner to break a sweat in her blazer.

Activist Jay Brown, who runs Community Shoulders, said some residents tell him that the closest cooling center, the Benning/Dorothy I. Height Library, doesn’t stay open long enough and that more resources would help them to better endure the heat.

“The D.C. government’s disconnect or intentional neglect of sustainable lifesaving resources on Minnesota Avenue is a reflection of how [community] members of certain races and backgrounds are treated all over the city,” Brown said. “The city cannot expect a positive functioning ecosystem if all of its citizens are not included in the input of the problems and solutions.”

Asked about these criticisms, city officials said they partnered with the East River Family Strengthening Collaborative to distribute air purifiers, fans, surge protectors and smart outlets to seniors in Ward 7. In addition, some families received financial help to pay outstanding utility bills to ensure they had electricity to fuel air conditioning.

“Each year, we review and evaluate the District’s Heat Emergency Plan to expand our resources and guidance for residents and visitors to remain safe during periods of extreme heat,” Clint Osborn, director of the District’s Homeland Security and Emergency Management Agency said in a statement. “DC Government stands ready to support our most vulnerable communities with resources and information on how they can protect themselves from extreme weather and stay safe, cool, and healthy.”

On Wednesday near Minnesota Avenue and Naylor Road, Rich Gibson camped in a folding chair all day — a pair of gold-framed prints of African art leaned against a tree.

The licensed clinical social worker has been unhoused for the past two months, and as afternoon temperatures climbed to 101 degrees, the shady spot brought the best relief he could manage.

Gibson had two hopes: a cool breeze and a customer for the art that might fund his next meal and a sweet tea with tons of ice.

“I’ll sell you the whole thing for $15,” Gibson pitched.

Low on cash and out of favors from family and friends, Gibson perched on the sidewalk with his wares.

The unhoused often seek shelter in vacant apartment buildings nearby, but not during the heat wave, Gibson said. Indoors was simply too hot.

“If you come by at night, you’ll see people sleeping under these trees, brother. For real, nowhere to go,” Gibson said.

By midafternoon, he hadn’t made a sale, and cool breezes were nearly as rare as customers. A friend offered Gibson a place for a few days, but there was no air conditioning.

He shifted to a new quest: a cheap box fan.

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