CITY FIREFIGHTERS TRAIN ON REAL FIRES; OLD HOUSE IS BEING BURNED

The fire at 612 Northview began Wednesday morning around 9 in the closet of the master bedroom, spreading quickly to the ceiling where it inched toward the window. It was seeking more oxygen, more fuel to keep burning.

Then, as the glass windows shattered with the heat, the fire turned and made its way toward the door and down the hallway. Sometimes the flames seemed to flow on the ceiling like water cascading across rocks in a stream.

The Cape Girardeau firefighters on the scene knew what to expect and exactly where to start combating the flames. They should: They started the blaze, the second fire they had started in the house this week.

On Monday, firefighters had started a fire in the garage of the house as a part of their ongoing training in different firefighting techniques. On Wednesday morning, five separate fires were started in different parts of the house, using different people in different roles to combat the fires. Next week, the training will move to the basement of the house where it will become more difficult.

"The concrete walls hold the heat, and the entrance we use to get to the fire is the same doorway that the smoke vents out of the basement," said Mark Hasheider, training officer for the department.

The house at the dead end of a sparsely populated street was ideal for the training, which was one reason the department took advantage of the house when it became available. The house is scheduled for demolition as a part of the Mount Auburn Road extension.

"It's becoming harder and harder to get realistic training," Hasheider said, citing EPA regulations and safety precautions that keep the department from more training.

Some people have offered the department houses to burn for firefighter training, but the department has turned them down because of regulations or because the houses were in more heavily populated areas.

By 8 a.m., when the firefighters started setting up the exercise, it was already 81 degrees outside and the temperature was rising. At 9, when the first wave of firefighters went in to fight the blaze, it was 82, and the firefighters, who had been in lightweight coveralls, now bore the weight of their 25-pound uniforms, called their "turn-out" or "bunker" gear. It was their lighter uniform.

On their feet were boots of heavy steel-reinforced rubber, each weighing several pounds. On their heads were heavy helmets. Strapped to their backs were 20-pound oxygen tanks.

The oxygen tanks would give them 30 minutes of air. But in the heat of summer they were lucky to remain in the building for 20 minutes.

The tanks were connected to the heavy plastic masks that covered their faces, allowing them to see and to breath in the heavy smoke.

And there was smoke.

At times the smoke became so thick that firefighters could not see a foot in front of them, even with the aid of a flashlight. Because the smoke tended to hang in the upper half of the room, the firefighters usually traveled by bending down or by scooting across the floor on their hands and knees.

A fan set up at the front door blew the smoke back and pushed the flames out of the hallway and out through the windows. It is a technique of firefighting that keeps the fire from burning any more of the structure.

As the flames shot out the window, two firefighters attacked the fire, trying to contain it in the bedroom where it originated.

Vicki Moldenhauer, who has been with the department for three years, was the first in, working the nozzle of the fire hose with Scott Altenthal helping her as the backup. At one point the heat from the flames became so intense that she could feel her own gear beginning to burn her skin.

The two backed up behind a wall and began spraying the flames until finally they were able to enter the room and start extinguishing the fire. Once in, they noticed that the fire had spread into the attic.

While Moldenhauer and Altenthal controlled the water, Ray Warner, a 15-year department veteran, started jabbing holes in the ceiling to let them get to the fire above them. Chunks of sheet rock began to fall around them and even on them, but they said nothing.

"You don't even notice it after awhile," Warner said later.

But for a few of the people at the scene, being inside a burning building was a totally new experience. Stacie Bleem was one of two of the department's dispatchers who donned uniforms and went inside. It was part of the department's plan to make sure that even those who operated the radios knew what it was like to be at a fire.

"It's hot in there," she said as she took off the heavy jacket.

It wasn't as hot as it could have been. All the furniture in the house was gone and the carpets had been pulled up. A lot of the plastics that would be in a typical household were gone.

"Those plastics burn hotter and more quickly," Hasheider said.

"Often, the house will be all closed up. The house has the tendency to cook itself by the time we get it," he said.

By departmental standards, the fire was minor. Most of it was contained within minutes, and not much more than a single room was destroyed, though there was smoke damage throughout the house.

"The thing about training is that it's a lot safer," said Michael Morgan, a fire inspector with the department. "We have more control. We know what to expect."

"With structure fires we never know what's going to happen," he said.

Morgan said the department is looking to get a training site where they can teach firefighters different techniques and keep their skills sharp.

"Right now the opportunities to train are few and far between," he said.