Community shows its spirit to help fire victims

BIG LAKE — Once again the Valley has shown itself to be full of compassionate people in the wake of fire.

Just before 1:30 a.m. on July 4, Troy and Lieba Putnam awoke to a call from Lieba’s mother, Jo Cassidy. Their house was burning down.

“They woke up to the fire trucks in the driveway, and of course took the time to call us and say ‘your house is on fire,’” Troy Putnam said, of Lieba’s parents.

The Putnams were on a camping trip in Eureka having one last outing before moving into their new home — a 13-month project, to that point — on a 40-acre parcel adjacent to Lieba’s parents’ property.

After the phone call, Lieba’s mother sent them pictures of the fire, via text, just to make sure the message was received.

But there was nothing the Putnams could do. So they decided to wait until a more reasonable hour — 6 a.m. — to pack up and hit the road.

“We decided that it probably wasn’t the best thing to be in a panic, and drive a motorhome, hauling a trailer, in the middle of the night, on the Fourth of July,” Lieba said.

And what did they find when they came home?

“A burnt house. A mess,” Troy said. “Smoldering rubble.”

The Putnams had built a “super insulated” house in an effort to be more energy efficient, she said, and had taken their time on every aspect. If they didn’t like what they saw — say, a window where they later wanted a door — they tore it down and started again.

Much of the walls were still standing when they arrived home after the fire, but it was no longer the home they had put their time and effort into. The enormous birch wood burl that served as the support for an extended kitchen counter — Lieba’s pride and joy, and the distinguishing feature of the room — was black, and significantly reduced in size.

Fortunately, few furnishings and no personal belongings (such as legal documents, photos, clothes and children’s toys) had burned in the fire, since the Putnams had not moved in yet. But the bulk of Troy’s tools were destroyed.

After a quick look through what was left of the house, Troy and Lieba began scouring the property for any sign of the cause. Fireworks were on their mind.

“People love to blame fireworks for any fire,” Lieba said.

If it had been fireworks, she said, there would have been telling debris. But there was nothing.

Hours later, the Putnams had found no footprints, either. They knew no one had driven in because the fire chief had cut the chain to their gate, Lieba said, and nothing unusual caught anyone’s eye. The Putnams, the fire chief and the fire marshal, Troy said, were at a loss.

And they had to play the waiting game. It was weeks after the Putnams notified their insurance company that a Washington investigator was hired to fly up and take a look at the scene. That whole time, the Putnams were staying in a cabin just a few hundred feet away from the wreckage.

“The worst part is the smell,” Lieba said. “You can’t get away from the smell, and you can’t touch it until the investigator comes up.”

Finding the cause

When the investigator did arrive, he went right to work. After several hours of working through the rubble himself and speaking with the Putnams, he announced the culprit: two dried-out paintbrushes.

The Putnams had used 13 gallons of Watco Danish Oil, a product made from “really mild linseed oil,” Lieba said, to stain all their doors and custom-made trim. The family had chosen the product because of Lieba’s hypersensitivity to odors. Plus, it always produced high-quality results and was easy to apply, she said. And Troy had used it before, with no problems.

“I’ve used it in every house I’ve ever had,” he said.

But the oil was far more combustible than they had known. After finishing with the stain, the Putnam’s tossed the paint brushes they had used to apply the product into a garbage can on the front porch of the house. Almost a month later, the brushes spontaneously combusted, the couple said.

Although the Alaska summer days had been hotter than usual, the investigator told the Putnams that the oil didn’t necessarily need heat to burst into flames, though the chemical process could be accelerated by high temperatures.

As soon as the investigator began to explain, Troy said he could easily follow the burn patterns — from the trash can pushed up against the house, to the eaves, along the then-non-existent roof.

On the skinny side of the product’s rectangular can, there is a warning label that describes how to dispose of oil-coated rags, which are used in the application process described on the back of the can. The Putnams had both read the application instructions, but not the warning label with the disposal instructions.

“You could say that’s ignorance on our part,” Troy said. “But even the fire investigator, he goes, ‘nobody reads the side of the can where the warning labels are.’”

At the end of the day, though, the Putnams had lost their “forever home.” They had found the cause of the fire, and it was time to clear the property for a new beginning.

The clean up crew

Troy and Lieba spent three days clearing debris, but the dent they made in the pile was barely visible. They needed more hands.

After discussing their predicament with a friend, it was decided they would host a clean-up day and barbeque on July 25. The Putnams and their organizing friend casually began to spread the word about the event, urging people not to change their plans just to come help.

Troy’s supervisor at Spenard Builders Supply offered to provide the burgers and hot dogs for the barbeque, and asked how many people he thought might attend the clean up. Troy guessed about 15, but said he “had no idea.”

So when 63 adults with 14 children (and a bunch of dogs) showed up, the Putnams could hardly contain their disbelief.

“It was amazing,” Lieba said. “They just jumped into it and did not stop.”

The clock began at 8:30 a.m., Troy said. Big Lake community members hauled ash and debris from the 3,800-square-foot shell of the house in wheelbarrows to a Dumpster onsite. Roughly 72,000 pounds of material was transferred to the dump.

And when Troy took a break to bite into a burger, it wasn’t even noon yet.

“It just blows my mind that we moved that much in 3 hours,” he said.

Although Troy and Lieba have each lived in the Big Lake-Meadow Lakes area for more than 30 years, and had accumulated many friends and co-workers in that time who might be willing to help, never did the Putnams expect such an outpouring of support.

“I’ve never experienced so many people pulling together like that to get a project done so quickly,” Lieba said.

It will take time to return to where they had planned to be, but the Putnam family is looking forward to the future, and grateful for what they have.

“I am so thankful that we still have the cabin,” Lieba said. “Is it where we wanna be? No … but we have it, and we’re fortunate.”

Contact reporter Caitlin Skvorc at 352-2266 or caitlin.skvorc@frontiersman.com.