The explosion destroyed eleven storage tanks and spread fire to others across the CAPECO compound. The initial blast shook Fort Buchanan, a nearby U.S. Army installation, where two people sustained minor injuries. Several drivers on surrounding roads were cut by flying glass. Four residents sought treatment for respiratory problems from the toxic smoke billowing into the sky. Remarkably, no one died. But the absence of fatalities masked the scale of the disaster - this was one of the largest petroleum fires in Caribbean history, and the thick black smoke plume was visible from space, captured by NASA's Terra satellite as it spread across the island's northern coast.

The call reached Puerto Rico's 9-1-1 office at 12:27 AM, four minutes after the blast. Bayamon and Catano fire stations responded first, but the fire's ferocity quickly overwhelmed them. Within an hour, firefighters from San Juan, Toa Baja, Guaynabo, Carolina, and Trujillo Alto had mobilized. Stations as distant as Ponce, Caguas, Arecibo, and Humacao sent crews - an island-wide emergency response that eventually assembled 130 firefighters supported by the Puerto Rico National Guard. Authorities closed the De Diego Expressway and scrambled helicopters to monitor the spreading smoke. Governor Luis Fortuno declared a state of emergency, canceled schools across the San Juan metro area, and ordered the evacuation of communities downwind, including 80 people in a Justice Department witness protection facility. Firefighters worked to cool surrounding tanks, trying to prevent a chain reaction that could have made the disaster far worse.

The firefighting effort stretched across three days. Foam was shipped from the U.S. Virgin Islands to supplement local supplies. Authorities even constructed a temporary pipeline to San Juan Bay, planning to pump seawater onto the blaze - though the fire was extinguished before it could be used. The cost to Puerto Rico's government exceeded $6.4 million by October 25, when the last flames were finally out. For the families who had been evacuated, the crisis was far from over. Some schools near the explosion site remained closed for four days. The communities surrounding the CAPECO facility - working-class neighborhoods where families lived within sight of the storage tanks - faced the lingering question of what had been released into their air and water.

Investigators descended quickly. More than 60 FBI and ATF agents combed the site; by October 30, FBI director Luis Fraticelli announced that 240 investigators had found no evidence of sabotage. The cause pointed to negligence - a faulty tank gauging system that allowed overfilling. The legal consequences were swift and devastating for the company. A lawsuit was filed in federal court the day after the explosion. By December, 1,000 plaintiffs had joined a consolidated action seeking $500 million in damages. Caribbean Petroleum Corporation filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in August 2010, citing debts between $500 million and $1 billion against assets of no more than $500 million. The company failed to comply with EPA cleanup orders, and the federal agency took over the remediation. The explosion site became a cautionary study in industrial safety - a reminder that petroleum infrastructure and residential communities make dangerous neighbors.