'It was a magnificent fire'

March 4, 2005

KATE GOLDEN/Frontiersman reporter

WASILLA - With tools, high-tech gadgets and 22,000 gallons of water, the Central Mat-Su Fire Department burned an old house down to the ground in a controlled fire training last weekend.

The house, on Springer Loop at the corner of Marble Way, was donated by Dan Olson of Olson Homes and Developing. He had recently purchased the 40-acre parcel on which the house stood. Olson needed to clear the lot for a subdivision, and the fire department was thrilled to have a real house to burn.

All things worked in the fire department's favor, from the very construction of the house. Fire chief Jack Krill Jr. said the house, originally built in the 1940s, was constructed piecemeal over the decades. The rooms' compartmentalization made it easy to contain individual fires.

And there was no asbestos, the presence of which would cost huge amounts for an approved asbestos-abatement contractor to remove.

It was perfect, Krill said: "Just wood and Sheetrock."

Saturday, firefighters lit and let single fires burn "up to a reasonable amount of heat and smoke," Central Mat-Su fire training chief Michael Keenan said.

Reasonable, he clarified, meant the fire wouldn't compromise the building's structural integrity. Temperatures of such fires ranged from a cool 300-400 degrees to 800-1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.

"There's smoke down to where we have to crawl, just to make it realistic for the trainees," he said.

The 76 participants were divided into teams. A ventilation team, for example, opened windows and set up fans to pull smoke out of the building. A search team's task was to seek out Rescue Randy, a mannequin that had been planted somewhere in the building. Inside, a safety team monitored fire work; outside, members of a rapid-intervention team readied themselves for potential trouble.

As the day wore on and those in the heat wore out, teams rotated. Chiefs worked inside as well as out, as is usual, because Keenan maintains he can't expect anyone to fight a fire in a place he wouldn't enter.

All admitted to a long day. Firefighter Tara Mellon said the hardest part wasn't the heat but the waiting.

"You get antsy," she said.

She said burning a real house is hugely different from working in the usual fireproof training tower.

"We have thermostats in there. We know exactly how hot it is," she said.

Mellon said firefighters in the department trained for almost three months before they burned it, eking out every bit of fire pedagogy they could from the house. They all knew it well. Keenan had spent hours laying out the situations beforehand.

But there are still unknowns, even for a 25-year veteran like Keenan. Which makes some people nervous. This is the most valuable part of training, Keenan said.

"If I see it in their eyes, I'm right there with them, I can show them the gear," he said.

Getting some air

The next day, the fires got bigger and hotter.

Instead of ventilating with fans as before, some crews held the fire while another team climbed to the roof. Those inside watched the dramatic exodus of smoke as crews on the roof cut a 4-by-4 hole in the roof.

Keenan said it's one of the best techniques they've got for getting the heat out of the building and keeping the crews inside safe.

"It sounds like we're causing more damage," he said, "but it does prevent property damage in the end."

It's not always safe to cut a hole in the roof, though. Crews clambering over a fire-weakened roof require a sturdier construction than many of the lightweight roofs being built these days.

Cool tools for a hot trade

Gearhead firefighters had plenty to play with.

Engine 651, for instance, has an aerial nozzle attachment that can pierce a roof and spray water inside. The operator, Mellon said, wears something like a joystick over his shoulders.

"It's like a big video game, and it puts out a lot of water," she said.

Twelve thermal-imaging cameras, which once cost $22,000 and now run from $10,000 to $12,000 each, are "well worth the cost," Keenan said.

The cameras see through smoke, and can show support members and other structural designs. Two can transmit thermal-video wirelessly to a TV in a commander rig.

This weekend, outside teams could watch everything that happened inside.

Another new tool was a box of compressed-air foam, with which the state is equipping villages. By increasing the surface tension of water, allowing it to flow more freely, the foam increases fivefold water's ability to suppress fire, Keenan said.

What happens if the fancy tools fail?

Easy, said Mellon. Follow your hose lines, follow the walls. Follow your senses.

"You go back to your basic training, step one, and start there."

The final burn

Sunday morning, firefighters did a couple of sets with the box of foam. With specially designed saws, they cut holes in each room's floor, cut some more holes in the roof - "Ventilation is the fun part," Keenan said - and then the house was deemed ready.

Keenan and another firefighter went through the house and set fire to each room, using straw and pallets. Three months of training in it, and the house went down in 30 minutes.

Keenan said the weekend's production of a smoking heap was successful. The safety team wasn't needed, nothing around the house was harmed, and they learned plenty.

And in the end, those who weren't controlling the perimeter sat back and allowed themselves to savor the beauty and power of the spectacle.

Mellon described the red glow, the change in flames as the Sheetrock succumbs, and the old railroad ties, probably 8-by-8s, that were holding up one side of the house. They were standing for a long time, she said.

"It was a magnificent fire," Mellon said.

Kate Golden can be reached at 352-2284 or kate.golden@frontiersman.com.