It was the hottest day of July- and 1976 thus far. It was 90-degrees at 10 am and heading for a high of 105. The only saving grace was a steady south wind- that gusted to 30 miles per hour by late afternoon.
What started on the 7am- 24-hour 'C-Shift' of the Kansas City- Mo Fire Department's Pumper Company No. 9 as a crew of 4 had shrunk to 3- Captain Pete and driver or 'fire apparatus operator (FAO) Ed and myself. Joe- the other firefighter- had gotten injured at an apartment fire we ran about 11am that day. In fact- we'd already had a half-dozen runs since we'd come on at 7am.
Joe was treated and released from the hospital as well as duty for the rest of our 24-hour day- and had returned to the engine house on Southwest Boulevard at 24th Street for a change of clothes and his car. Only the bunk room- captain's room and the downstairs watch room were air conditioned- so of course- Joe and I sat in the upstairs dining table & kitchen with fans blowing the 100-degree-plus air around. With the way the day was going-now late afternoon just after 4 pm- I preferred to stay acclimated to the heat.
I was about to get the plenty of heat 5 minutes after the innocent- two tones still alarm now sounding over fire department dispatch radio.
"Pumper 9- a trash fire - 21st Street and Holly."
I take the hose tower rope rather than the pole to the apparatus floor-kick off my dress shoes- into the fire boots and step up on the tailboard of the late-1960's model convertible Seagrave 1500 GPM pumper truck. FAO Ed turns the truck hard left and we take 24th Street to Belleview then north. Only FAO Ed and myself have our fire helmets on- Captain Pete's has his arm around the front seat as if on a Sunday drive. When we hit 23rd Street is when I saw it.
Thick- black smoke was rolling low above us to the left about 3 blocks away. I murmur "Holy shit" as I'm putting on full fire gear while holding on to the rail on the pumper's tailboard going up hills at 35 mph. I try everything I could in the next 2 blocks to get Ed and Pete's attention. Ed wasn't watching his mirrors and the siren and the pumper's roaring diesel engine drowned out my yells and pounding on the handrail with the hydrant key. I heard the upgraded alarm come in as we turned onto 21st Street. Pete turns around with big eyes and sees me decked out and ready to go with thick-black smoke rolling low ahead.
Not 3 weeks earlier- we had a district drill that included Pumpers 2 and 8 and Truck 6 on this street a block west of Holly at 21st Street & Mercier. 21st Street ended in a downhill dead-end with a fire hydrant- the bluffs above Kemper Arena. On the south side of that dead-end running east to Mercier was a row of 2-1/2-story row houses- with only a narrow walkway's space between them.
It had been decided that day- Captain Pete- FAO Ed- Firefighters Joe and myself in attendance- that ANY structure fire in that block have the first-arriving pumper (us if we're in the house) back down that hill- hook up to that hydrant- then pull the truck up the street to the fire.
The reasoning? If a pumper got nose-down the hill and the row houses got going- the pumper would be trapped. The drill decision was a pumper in the line of fire could hose-clamp the feeder- break the pumper connection and get out.
Pete points at a hydrant at the corner of 21st Street and Mercier- the only plug for a block besides the one at the bottom of the dead-end- FAO Ed and Captain Pete pull nose-down the hill- in front of the heavily-smoking vacant row house.
After I jump off the pumper- the next 60 seconds turn crazy. I get the feeder line hooked up fast- ready to turn it on. Suddenly- I'm surrounded by a group of 8-10 kids- yelling someone's in one of the houses in proximity to the one where the thick black smoke is pouring out of. I can see between the kids- FAO Ed and Captain Pete fumbling with the feeder hose to connect to the pumper. I hear Truck 6 approaching as all Hell breaks loose.
Even over approaching Truck 6's siren- over the south wind gusting to 30 mph- over the yelling kids- I hear a loud WHOOSH and instantly see the entire 2-and-a-half-story row house auto-ignite into a tower of flames 30 to 40 feet high- and being blown right at and over Pumper 9 only 20 feet away. Ed and Pete had at that very moment gotten their end of the feeder line connected and the truck's captain yells at me to turn it on as they roll by. Important here to remember- all this takes place in the space of maybe 30 seconds.
I ran down to the pumper and the heat was unbelievable (I later found I had a nice "sunburn" on my face from the heat and melted parts on my coat). I tried to pull a section of inch-and-a-half pre-connect to just keep us cool- but the pump panel was facing the flames- licking out to within 10 feet of us and now involving the row houses on either side.
I ran around to the side away from the direct heat and found Captain Pete frozen with the radio microphone in his hand. I grabbed the mike and yelled "This is Pumper 9- Give us a 2nd-alarm at 21st Street and Holly!" then threw the mike down on the floor. I then pulled Pete away from the truck and the fire back to Mercier. Ed had already abandoned ship- both him and Pete were burned. Other than their helmets & boots- neither one had their protective turnout coats on. I had managed to get on the coat- gloves and Nomex hood in addition to helmet & boots.
With the Captain and FAO out of the game now- I was the only crew member left on 9's Pumper. Little more than 200 feet away was Pumper 9- still running in pump gear. The truck was now mostly obscured by the huge plume of heavy black smoke with flames inside blooming 70 feet into the air. The hose in the pumper's hose bed was smoking when I turned to find assignment to another company.
I was assigned to chaos. The last time a half-block of homes was lost was a gas main explosion and fire around 46th Street and Wyoming in 1962. Companies were just arriving and those who found hydrants had little water pressure. Pumper 9 had the only working hydrant still hooked up and no one seemed to have the time to shut the hydrant down and clamp the feeder. I pulled a 2-1/2-inch line a block and a half to a hydrant just to find hardly any water pressure.
The fire grew to 3-alarms plus- 10 pumper and 4 aerial companies all told in addition to the various commanders and support vehicles. Crews even trekked up the steep bluff from the south on busy 23rd Street (now Chavez) with hand lines to attack the fire using the gusty south upwinds. We ran hand lines down the alley between 21st Street and 20th Terrace and fought our side of this mini-conflagration into the wind from the front yards of the houses on the north side of 21st Street- mostly keeping Pumper 9 from bursting into flames and little else.
The fire burned every house of the south side of 21st Street west of Mercier- 8 in total. The fire's eastward advancement past Mercier was stopped only by a vacant lot at the corner. Pumper 9 is still running- the paint on the side facing the fire cooked- the exposed edges of hose in the hose bed singed or melted- as well as the plastic air tank covers and the cover for the pumper's front warning light or "cherry top."
I got the assignment of operating the pump panel to use the pumper's powerful deck gun to bring down a 2-story chimney left standing. After that a hand line I was using on the embers of one house experienced a pressure surge- lifting me up in the air over a still-hot foundation and face-down into the house's smoldering rubble in the basement. By luck- my helmet had fallen over my face first and another firefighter next to me kept me cool with a refreshing soaking actually. Unhurt- the event is seen by Deputy Chief Bennie- who lauds my work and orders me to take a break.
The only injuries are the burns to Pete and Ed. The murderous summer sun had just sank below the horizon when a fire department mechanic replaces melted light lenses and checks that sturdy Seagrave over- other firefighters are assigned to load the feeder line- then with an overtime driver and captain and the last assigned member of Pumper 9 C-shift- we head home.
Drinking one of a six-pack with injured firefighter Joe back at the engine house later- I feel damn good about my performance in the face of 40 foot wall of flames. Joe had gone to 9's roof after we pulled out of the engine house and he too saw the black smoke- got in his car and drove to the scene. He too was amazed that Pete and Ed had disregarded the conclusions from the earlier drill at that very location and went nose-first downhill- and trapped- and he and I thought Captain Pete might get some reprimand over it.
It was only 3 days later- next working day- when I incredulously learned of a hearing with the district's battalion chief and others- when I was told- dumbstruck- that Pete and Ed were framing me for what happened that July day in 1976 when Pumper 9 was left to burn.
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