Watching fire burn

NEWS staff reporter Kristi Pihl poses in one of the North County Fire and EMS fire trucks Oct. 24. Last Saturday, I saw what few outside of firefighters ever see.

I crouched down in a single-story home, in full firefighter gear, peered down a hallway and watched a fire grow.

It was a fire that firefighters from North County Fire and EMS set as part of livefire training on the morning of Sept. 24.

I’d heard that for every minute, a fire doubles in size. Although an impressive fact to hear, it paled in comparison to seeing it happen.

The fire was almost silent, compared to the sound of my breathing apparatus, and that belonging to Battalion Chief Christian Davis, North County’s public information officer, and my guide to staying safe during the drill. I couldn’t smell the smoke, although I could see it as it seeped from the burn room, where crews had started the fire.

North County Fire and EMS battalion chief Christian Davis (left) and NEWS staff reporter Kristi Pihl (right) examine the fire that crews set during live fire training drill Oct. 24. A dense black smoke thicker than fog quickly formed on the ceiling of the burn room. Davis explained that firefighters call it black fire, as it is between 800 to 1,000 degrees F.

Then flames licked across the ceiling. I could feel the heat, even in the safety gear that I, like the actual firefighters, was wearing.

Two firefighters held a fire hose at ready, aimed down the hallway toward the burn room. After the fire had been going for about 10 minutes, they sprayed the fire back.

On average, the first North County Fire and EMS crew will arrive on scene after about eight minutes, Davis said.

Davis and I followed the firefighters into the burn room. I held onto Davis as we moved through the hallway, unable to see anything through the smoke until the fog was brushed off my facemask.

The fire was so hot that the windows of the burn room had shattered.

Davis and I crouched down near the firefighters as they prepared to extinguish the flames. However, I was a little too close. When one lost control of the fire hose, it whipped in my direction and knocked me on my backside.

Hose pressure ranges from 150 to 175 pounds per square inch. I certainly felt it.

So I stayed where I was, and watched the two spray the orange and yellow fire into submission with water that seemed to bubble on contact.

The fire didn’t feel as warm as I ex- pected. When I voiced that impression to Davis after we exited the home, he had me touch my yellow helmet. It was still warm.

The fire had made it to the attic space of the wood home. I watched firefighters pull ladders up to the building and nearly disappear in the smoke as they aimed the water into the attic.

Once the fire was completely out, Davis and I went back inside the building. The walls of the home were scorched black from the ceiling down a few feet. When I glanced up at the attic space, I could see the surfaces there had also turned black. The ground was soggy, with slowly forming water pools, and insulation dripped water overhead.

The drill gave firefighters a chance to practice high-risk low-frequency calls. The majority of the emergencies North County responds to are medical.

A total of 38 of North County’s 78 staff members participated. Together, they cover 104 square miles, including Warm Beach, Freeborn and Bryant.

Only 23 of the 78 are paid positions, Davis said. The department relies on volunteers. It saves about $2 million to $2.5 million each year in staffing costs due to volunteers.

The fire department does live-fire drills one or two times a year. The drills are dependent on donations. Some, like the home I watched burn, were donated by private homeowners. Most are donated by the Stillaguamish Tribe.

I was glad to remove the gear. It weighs about 48 pounds, and most of it was the breathing apparatus resting on my hips. I was exhausted, and I hadn’t done anything, compared to the firefighters.

The whole experience seemed to go by so fast, it was almost hard to recall exactly what happened.

I do know that it gave me a new appreciation for what firefighters are trained for and willing to do, as well as a sudden desire to check my smoke alarms at home.

Staff Reporter Kristi Pihl: 629-8066 ext. 125 or kpihl@scnews.com.