I live on the south side of Indy, near Garfield Park. When the alert hit my phone early one morning—Boil Water Advisory—I felt that little knot in my chest. You know what? It’s wild how fast you think about coffee, baby bottles, dog bowls, and pasta water, all at once. If you want the blow-by-blow timeline, I pulled together a separate diary-style recap on ALCO that digs into every gritty detail of that week-long advisory.
Here’s my honest take. What worked. What didn’t. And a few things I wish I’d known before my sink turned into a science lab.
The moment it hit
The water had been low the night before. My shower felt like a mist. Then the alert came through from Citizens Energy, and local news pushed it too. I checked the tap. Cloudy. I smelled a bit of chlorine. My brain went straight to the kettle.
I filled every pot I own—big stock pot, Dutch oven, even the little saucepan I use for ramen. It felt silly, but it helped. The stove looked like a steamy factory. My kitchen windows fogged up, which would’ve been cozy if I wasn’t counting minutes.
What I did that actually helped
- Rolling boil for one full minute. That’s the rule here. Indy is not high up, so one minute works. I set a timer, because I forget.
- Cooled the water in clean glass jars (old pasta sauce jars work). I labeled them “BOILED.” Not fancy. Just a Sharpie.
- Kept a “safe water” station on the counter: sealed jars, clean ladle, clean funnel. I told everyone, “If it’s not in this spot, don’t drink it.”
- Turned off the ice maker. Tossed the old ice. It pained me, but yeah.
- Used my dishwasher on the sanitize setting. It runs hot enough. On a day I wasn’t sure, I rinsed dishes with boiled water after washing.
- Coffee talk: my drip brewer doesn’t keep water at a boil long enough. I boiled water in a kettle first, then poured into my French press. It tasted fine. Honestly, better than usual.
If you want the official specifics straight from the utility, the Boil Water FAQs from Citizens Energy Group spell out everything from boil times to ice-maker do’s and don’ts.
I also learned fast: a Brita helps with taste, not germs. You still have to boil first. I used the filter only after the water cooled.
Stuff that didn’t work (and made me grumpy)
- The Keurig. Folks ask about it. It heats the water, but not long enough to count as safe. I tried once, then poured it out. My husband laughed. I didn’t.
- Washing leafy greens with tap water. Don’t. I rinsed with cooled boiled water. Takes time, but my salad didn’t haunt me.
- Brushing teeth with tap water. Not worth the risk. We kept a jar by the sink and used little paper cups. My kid thought it was “camp.”
Kids, pets, and little routines
My daughter’s sippy cups were the big thing. I boiled water in the morning and filled a pitcher just for her. We called it “her water.” It made her smile and kept her from grabbing from the sink.
Our dog, Scout, drinks a lot. I set a bowl with boiled-and-cooled water by the back door. It felt fussy, but he’s family.
For showers: we still showered, but I told my kid, “Mouth closed, like a fish.” She giggled and did it. Small wins.
Shopping during the rush
Kroger on Shelby was slammed by lunch. Meijer was better in the morning. Speedway had a few gallon jugs near the counter (I asked; they were hiding them to keep it fair). Aldi had canned sparkling water, which felt fancy but didn’t help with pasta.
Honestly, after circling parking lots all morning, I needed a breather downtown. A short stroll along Georgia Street reminded me that the city still hums even during a scare, and you can read my no-filter walk-through of that strip if you're hunting for a quick mental reset.
Pro tip I wish I knew earlier: keep two empty gallon jugs for future days. Fill them with boiled water for cooking. They stack. They don’t spill. And they cost nothing.
In fact, while doom-scrolling for any place that still had gallon jugs, I remembered that Indy folks sometimes post spur-of-the-moment supply stashes on classified boards. One site that surfaced was Bedpage classifieds, a hub of local listings that can connect you with everything from emergency handymen to neighbors flipping extra bottled water, so it’s worth a quick search if the usual retailers strike out. I also peeked at another city’s forum—Doublelist’s Redmond board—just to see how other communities handle last-minute exchanges; their real-time swaps for bottled water and household staples gave me ideas. You can scroll the listings on Doublelist Redmond to pick up crowd-sourced tips on safe meet-ups, price norms, and quick messaging etiquette that could easily translate to Indy classifieds when shelves run bare.
Cooking during the advisory
- Pasta water: boil like normal, but start with tap, then keep it at a good rolling boil. Drain like usual.
- Sauces, soups, oatmeal: I pre-boiled the water first, then used it in the pot. Was it extra? Yes. But I stopped worrying.
- Fruit: wiped apples and pears with a clean towel. Rinsed berries with cooled boiled water. Not fun, but fine.
- Ice: we lived without it. I tossed any frozen fruit that touched old ice. That hurt my smoothie habit.
Communication from the city
The alert came fast. That part was solid. For a statewide perspective, I also skimmed the Indiana Department of Health’s boil-water guidance—handy if you’re wondering what counts as “safe” for brushing teeth, washing produce, and more. The map zone confused me at first. I found a clear update on local news and on Citizens’ social posts. Also, our neighbor posted on Nextdoor, which helped more than I like to admit.
The re-check took a bit. They have to test the water, twice, which makes sense. It took a couple days for us. Once the “all clear” came, I ran the taps for a few minutes, dumped the first batch of ice, and cleaned the fridge filter housing.
Side note: the whole experience had me staring at the roof line and thinking about how water actually leaves the house in the first place; if your gutters look as sketchy as mine did, here’s my candid take on getting Indianapolis gutters and downspouts sorted before the next downpour.
Small techy bits I learned (in plain speak)
If you’re curious about the nitty-gritty of water testing and treatment standards, I found a concise explainer on ALCO that turned the jargon into plain English.
- It’s about germs, not taste. Boiling kills them. Filters don’t.
- One minute at a rolling boil works here. You don’t need to boil forever.
- Dishwashers on sanitize are usually fine. Old models? Rinse with boiled water.
- Garden water isn’t a big deal. Just don’t let kids drink from hoses. Mine tried. Of course she did.
What I’ll do next time (because there will be a next time)
- Keep two clean gallon jugs in the pantry.
- Store a sleeve of paper cups for tooth brushing.
- Freeze a tray of ice made from boiled water once the advisory starts (after you dump the old stuff). Takes planning, but it helps.
- Write the start date on a sticky note. It calms the brain to see a timeline.
My verdict
Was it a hassle? Yep. Did it break our week? Not really. The city alert was quick. Stores ran low, but I found what I needed with a little asking. Boiling got old, but after the first morning, it felt like a routine. Like prepping for a Colts game, but with pots.
If you’re in Indianapolis and you get the alert, here’s my simple rule: boil for a minute, cool it, label it, and keep one clean spot for “safe water.” It’s boring. It works. And when the all clear hits, that first glass from the tap tastes like summer. I’m not kidding.
Quick ratings from my kitchen:
- Ease of handling: 7/10 once we had a plan
- City alerts: 8/10 (fast, but maps were fuzzy)
- Store stock: 6/10 mid-day, 9/10 early morning
- Stress level: Started at a 9, dropped to a 4 by day two
Would I handle it the same way again? Mostly. I’d just start boiling sooner and label more jars. And I’d hide one chocolate bar for morale. Trust me—future you will thank you.