01/07/16

I tell you a lot about the tragedies and triumphs of the Fire Service, I tell you a lot about the feelings I get when Things go right, and saves are made. I don't tell you a lot about nights like last night. It's about time.

Last night at 2330 my pager went off and I rolled out to a reported "chimney fire" I drove out my driveway thinking "Christ, it's eighty frigging degrees! who would be burning in their fireplace tonight?"

When I arrived on the scene I took it in at a glance. Usually chimney fires are caused by creosote buildups in chimneys being ignited. Sometimes they're pretty spectacular with pillars of flame shooting eight feet or so out of the top of the chimney. Usually they're out when we get there, the creosote having burned off . It's easy to get complacent about them. 99% of the time they're nothing but a ladder practice where I send my guys up on the roof to check the chimney and they climb down saying "It's out". We check the attic for extension and reassure the shaken homeowners and go home.

I keep harping at my guys that they aren't always like that. Sometimes they extend into the attic and burn the roof off the house. Sometimes they get ahold and burn it to the ground. I know I sound like a broken record to them, but that's my job.

Last night was the 1%

I rolled up and saw flames licking out of the attic space of the house. A terrified man was throwing buckets of water on his roof in a frantic attempt to slow it down. I could tell by looking at it that he wasn't going to accomplish much, roofs are designed to shed water, and this fire was inside the attic, it was just starting to peek out of the holes it had burned. There is a special technique we use on fires like this, it takes a couple of minutes to set up, but it's effective as hell. It requires boldness and decisiveness. It requires a plan. If I sent my guys directly to the roof with a hose to shoot water into the attic it would spread the fire outward. It would also endanger my men by making them take a chance of falling through the flame-weakened roof into the fire. What we had to do was stick the nozzle inside the attic and snuff the fire out from within.

We have a piece of eqipment called a piercing nozzle that is designed for just that purpose, it's a six-foot length of steel pipe with a sharpened tip and perforations around the end. It's attached to an inch and a half diameter fire hose and is intended to be driven through walls etc. and opened up to shower the inside.

I gave the orders to the pumper crew to don their air packs, attach the piercing nozzle and meet me in the house.

I went upstairs and looked around. Try it sometime, go into a strange house, and try to pinpoint what part of the roof you're standing under. It's not too easy. Then try it knowing that the house is on fire.

My guys thundered up the stairs and I took an educated guess. I had to be decisive, I had to be bold.

I pointed at the ceiling, "There" I said, "Put it in there, there, and there. In both of these bedrooms!"

I left the guys to their work and went ouside to observe the fire and smoke magically turn to steam. I went outside to watch the glorious fruits of my bold, decisive plan.

The fire didn't go out, it only grew.

My crew inside radioed me
"Command, we've pulled the ceilings down in here. There's no fire"

It was impossible, there HAD to be fire there, it was growing rapidly now, starting to really get ahold of the cedar shingles.

I went upstairs again, looked closely at the room. Then I saw the door at the back of the bedroom. I opened it and heard, smelled and felt the heat. The door looked like a closet, but it entered another room, the room where the fire was hiding in the attic.

I directed my crew, they had the fire out in minutes. Overhaul took another half hour while we did everything we could to protect the family's belongings from the fifty or sixty gallons of water we flowed needlessly into the attic.

For the next two hours I watched while my crews pulled soaked insulation and ruined drywall out of the house and I cursed myself. I cursed my flawed judgement and fought down the urge to look for excuses. Bottom line, I had screwed up. My crews had done what I told them to and had done it with skill and speed. Unfortunately I had told them to do the wrong thing.

Yes, we saved the house, and the contents. Unfortunately I created about $40,000 more damage than I should have.

This one is going to bother me for awhile.
 
 
 
 

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