After the fire - mixing teens, alcohol

Standing in the snow, dozens of guests clustered around a crackling, 8-foot-wide bonfire as more vehicles crossed a one-lane bridge to fill the farm's driveway. A few partygoers moved the beer keg a bit closer to the flames -- the tap was freezing over, and this night, the alcohol was to flow freely.

The party, held on Jan. 18 a few miles outside the Cape Girardeau city limits, provided nearly a hundred young people a Friday night of unchaperoned horseplay and plenty to drink.

Within hours, however, 14 people were horribly burned. Someone pitched a 5-gallon plastic gas container into the bonfire, unleashing a burst of flame and fuel. One girl later required skin grafts on her legs.

The smoke has long since cleared from the blast, and a suspect, Jerry L. Self Jr., 22, of Millersville, faces a trial on 14 counts of felony second-degree assault.

But while the victims face permanent scars, dozens of partygoers under the age of 21 who drank that night will go unscathed for breaking the law. No one was charged with underage drinking. No parents or partygoers have stepped forward to demand accountability for anything other than the explosion.

In general, the attitude of those interviewed is that underage drinking is so commonplace at these parties, no one should expect otherwise.

Investigation sacrifices

Investigators and the prosecutor say they had to look the other way for the sake of the explosion investigation because witnesses feared being ticketed for drinking.

But the story is much the same at the other parties they encounter, ones where no one ends up hospitalized. Officers say their hands are often tied when it comes to large groups of underage drinkers. Unless an officer sees a minor holding a cup or bottle, it is nearly impossible to get a charge filed, said Lt. David James of the Cape Girardeau County Sheriff's Department.

To expedite such situations, officers typically zero in on those providing the alcohol and order the rest of the crowd to dump their drinks and disperse. They detain intoxicated individuals.

"We have jail beds full of rapists, drug dealers, burglars and murderers," James said. "If we pull up on a creek party of 50 kids, what are we going to do -- arrest all of them? The burden of proof almost makes it not worth it."

But some do get arrested, and the numbers show the problem of underage drinking isn't shrinking in Cape Girardeau County. The prosecuting attorney's office prosecuted 142 cases of minors in possession of alcohol in 2002, nearly twice the 77 prosecuted in 2001.

Since 1998, the office has prosecuted 421 such cases, accounting for 3.7 percent of its caseload.

In that same five-year span, the sheriff's department issued about 300 citations to minors for possessing alcohol and 30 to people supplying alcohol to minors.

Parental viewsA short time after the explosion, a ringing phone woke detective Sgt. Eric Friedrich of the Cape Girardeau County Sheriff's Department. At the end of his long week, he climbed out of bed to start a new investigation.

When he walked into the emergency center at Southeast Missouri Hospital, the halls were lined with victims, families and friends. It was a scene like something on television, he said.

"The whole hallway reeked of gasoline and singed hair," he said. "It was chaos for me to walk into that mess."

He made his way through the crowd and started asking questions. Some parents of the victims had arrived, but none expressed anger at their children for attending a party where alcohol was served, he said. Their reactions bothered him.

"Not one of the parents came up to me and asked us to arrest the person who threw the gas can or to take those who had the party and kegs and throw them in jail," Friedrich said. "Not one."

The owners of the farm, John and Charlotte Edwards, are the parents of host Jonathon Edwards, who lived in a house there with two roommates. The parents have not answered repeated requests for comment. But some parents have acknowledged they knew their children would be attending this party and others like it.

Tracy Mesey's daughter Jennifer, 18, suffered burns on her back from the blast. She believes Jennifer did not drink at the party, but isn't surprised by the party scene.

"You have kids underage that are drinking at these parties, that's been something that's been going on for years and years," she said. "But that didn't cause someone to throw what was basically a bomb onto a fire."

Faye Reiminger of Jackson knew her son, Chad, 18, was planning to attend the party, but said she did not ask him whether there would be alcohol served. She said she trusts her son.

'We still drink'Some of the victims of the bonfire explosion are the strongest defenders of underage drinking.

Ben Fadler, 19, of Old Appleton wants the focus to be on the person who caused the explosion.

"I don't see what the big deal is with us drinking if everyone is responsible," he said.

Kelsey Proffer and Ashley Farmer, both 18 and of Jackson, arrived at the party together, both excited to catch up with friends they hadn't seen often since graduating from high school. Both were burned in the blast and testified in court Feb. 25 during a preliminary hearing for Self. But they don't believe underage drinking was responsible for what happened to them.

Chad Reiminger later testified in court that he drank five beers at the bonfire party. Some minors drank more than 10 beers at the party, what many consider binge drinking.

None of the party hosts attended the hearing. Farmer doesn't want the three hosts to be held accountable for the explosion, saying such rural parties are commonplace. "They shouldn't be blamed," she said. "The only thing they did was have a party with alcohol."

Investigators say Edwards, 19, James McGee, 20, and Tyler Gerlach, 19, threw the party at 3901 County Road 621. The three were arrested afterward for providing three kegs of beer but were released pending charges. A fourth man of legal age purchased the beer, but no charges have been filed against him, either.

The remaining beer was sent to a crime laboratory to determine what percentage of alcohol it contained, which affects the level of any charges. Test results are expected within weeks.

The bonfire incident has not changed Farmer's beliefs about minors and alcohol.

"Underage drinking goes on," she said. "We still drink and we go to parties. We went to another party with a bonfire a week or so ago in Patton.

"But we sat in the truck and wouldn't get out because we were too afraid. I don't want to be anywhere near a bonfire again. Just the smell of a bonfire can make me sick."

Proffer said drinking underage did not land her in trouble with her parents. "They know I drink and it's nothing new," she said.

The place to be

A clearer picture of the Jan. 18 party has emerged from investigators' reports and court proceedings.

Flyers had been passed out among friends advertising the party, but many heard about it by word of mouth. It sounded like a lot of fun, one witness said. It was the place to be that night.

Bottles and cans of alcoholic beverages were brought by many, but more partook of the three kegs of beer. For a few hours, the crowd grew.

Someone tossed ammunition into the fire to hear it pop. A casing shot out of the fire and struck Farmer on the leg, but she didn't think much of it after the stinging subsided.

The crowd numbered nearly 100 guests by 11:30 p.m.

Witnesses later said they saw a figure clad in a shadow grass camouflage coat rush up to the fire, toss something into it and turn to run away.

Somebody else said, "Run!" but only a few heeded the warning.

When the container landed, the intense heat of the burning wood melted the plastic, and the fumes in the half-full container ignited. The explosion blew outward, snuffing out the bonfire. The force also threw many bystanders off their feet. Jamie Egan, 18, was knocked out of her shoes and glasses.

That's when the gasoline rained down on those nearest the blast, and the panic started.

"I didn't see it, but I heard it and felt it," Fadler said. "I was instantly engulfed in flames. That's all I could see, just flames everywhere."

Coats, hair and jeans were on fire. People screamed and began rolling on the ground, some banging their burning hair into the snow in a desperate attempt to put it out.

"I remember running," victim Leah Reisenbichler said. "I don't think I knew I was on fire until I saw others running in front of me with flames on the tops of their heads."

Jason Walther, 18, described the aftermath as looking "kind of like a war movie."

When the flames were finally put out, people left. Many quickly made for their cars, carrying injured friends. One by one, the drivers had to cross the bridge back onto the county road.

More than 40 interviews by law enforcement were conducted in the two days following the blast. Friedrich and other investigators conducted 18 continuous hours of interviewing.

Victims were asked what they saw and who else was at the party. Names were written down and an ever-increasing circle of more witnesses was located and questioned.

Farmer and Proffer provided the detectives with film from the photos they shot at the party. The photos helped identify other witnesses.

Investigators found at least three witnesses who said they saw Self throw the gas container in the fire. A fourth witness, Dustin Penny, testified at the preliminary hearing that Self had dared him to toss the gas container into the fire earlier in the evening.

Detectives believed they found their man, and charges were filed against Self on Jan. 22.

Painful recoveryInstead of going to a hospital, Fadler went home alone after the explosion. He didn't think his burns were that bad. He was wrong.

When he woke the next morning, his neck and face were extremely swollen, and quarter-sized blisters were forming. His mother took him to a hospital and later to a plastic surgeon for a consultation.

The doctors told Fadler he was lucky to be alive, because his neck was so swollen that he could have died of suffocation in his sleep.

Nearly two months later, the second-degree burns on his face and neck are still visible. His right hand may have permanent scarring. Fadler is unemployed and has no medical insurance, so any plastic surgery will have to wait until he can afford it. He is considering filing a civil lawsuit to get compensation for his injuries.

To date, no lawsuits have been filed against the bonfire suspect or owners of the property where the party took place.

Several victims shared similar stories of weeks of discomfort, followed by scabbing and less-than-encouraging words from doctors.

Reisenbichler was told by a plastic surgeon the redness on her right hand, face and ear could be visible for perhaps two years.

Twenty-year-old Andrew Hecht missed two weeks of work because of the burns to his neck, ears, face, lower back and hands.

Jackson High School senior Chad Reiminger still had scabs on his left calf at the hearing. His hands, legs, head and ears remain red.

Nineteen-year-old Staci Richardson suffered the worst burns of the 14 victims. She required surgical skin grafts on the backs of her legs. She spent 12 days in a burn unit of a St. Louis hospital. She said she will always have scars.

On Wednesday, the prosecution's felony assault case against Self was moved to Perry County on a change of venue.

In addition, Self was charged in December for allegedly shooting an owl out of a tree in a Jackson park. A bench trial has been set for March 17 in Jackson for that case.

Not much has visibly changed at the farm where the bonfire party was held. The snow that saved many is gone. In the days afterward, a few cans and bottles still littered the property, but the three hosts, at least for a time, stayed elsewhere. It's unclear whether they have returned to the house to live.

mwells@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 160