Time for fire safety action

Nearly four decades of service with our local fire department left me with more anecdotes about fire and fire safety than I can share at one sitting. Some stories are interesting. Some might bore you to tears. A few generate could some genuine tears.

Our local community can boast of an almost scary statistic about fire prevention and safety. Scary, because a popular superstition warns against boasting of good luck. Merely mentioning a remarkable objective may reverse the outcome.

But I risk mentioning our good fortune anyway. Thirty years have passed since any child residing in our community has died — nor even required medical treatment that we are aware of — as the result of a fire-related incident. Thirty years is an enviable record. Knock on whatever works for you.

Not many can recall the details of that bitterly cold January night back in the mid-1980s. A young lad perished in a fire in a crude cabin/cave built by some playmates in a wooded lot near the corner of Kress and Cordley Lake roads. The victim apparently lit a fire to warm himself inside his cabin/cave. He fell asleep. He likely suffocated, dying of smoke inhalation before his body suffered any burn damage.

Smoke alarms might have made the difference. But the young builders failed to install a smoke alarm in their woodsy cabin. I hope your cabin, cave or mansion is lavishly equipped with so fundamental a life-saving device as a smoke alarm. Even more than one.

Statistics show that 51 percent of those who die in fires die in homes unprotected by smoke alarms. Based on my experience, I’d set the odds considerably higher than that.

You would scarcely believe the silly things firefighters discover about people and their smoke alarms. None installed? Afraid so. Dead batteries? Often. Smoke alarm pulled off the wall and lying uselessly on the kitchen counter because it sounded alarm whenever someone boiled water or fried bacon? A common excuse. Battery shanghaied from the smoke alarm to power a toy or computer game? Outrageously common.

Not to sound in-your-face boastful, but I have five smoke alarms in my house, all dual-powered (house current and internal battery). All hard-wired together. If one detector sounds an alarm, they all chime in. Testing them generates a panicky chorus from all directions.

One smoke alarm serves the laundry room. Another in the basement guards the furnace. Two alarms monitor each end of our high central foyer as smoke tends to rise. And the fifth alarm is perched above our bedroom door.

You can pick up a battery-powered alarm for a few bucks any place they’re sold. Hard-wired, dual-powered smoke alarms are a bit more expensive than Fire Prevention Week specials from the local hardware store. I think my total bill for all five alarms was about a hundred bucks. That’s dirt cheap for the protection and peace of mind they offer.

You should also lay in a supply of fresh batteries for time-change Sunday coming up on Nov. 1. I spent many years hammering home one simple lesson to hundreds of kids in our school safety programs: Change your clock; change your batteries

I’m of the strong opinion that operating a household without smoke alarms should be judged a crime. Life is precious beyond a misdemeanor. Make it a felony. Some people might consider such a law as just another ugly example of big government intruding on the civil rights of little people. But there’s a point where civic responsibility crosses swords with civil rights.

If you anticipate financial or technical difficulty installing a smoke alarm, I suggest you contact your local fire department. Mark Hogrebe, fire chief here in Hamburg Township, assures me that fire departments will do everything in their power to see that you are protected with a smoke alarm.

I feel so strongly about smoke alarms partly because of an indelible memory seared into my soul. This tragedy occurred in the days before smoke alarms became so cheaply available. I’ve shared it before. I find it therapeutic to talk about it.

My soulful scar is engraved with the image of a little girl about 5 years old. We discovered her lying in her bed. A fire burned elsewhere in her house. It’s been so many years ago, I no longer remember the address.

We extinguished the fire quickly. But dense smoke had filled her home from top to bottom. A thick layer of soot blanketed everything.

The little girl died in her bed. She looked so peaceful. Never directly threatened by flames. She apparently hadn’t struggled at all. The stuff in the smoke snuffed out her little life. Silently. Thoroughly. Forever.

She had long blonde hair. We lifted her lifeless body from her bed. You could see the outline of her head surrounded by a sooty silhouette where her curls flounced on the pillow.

Do you consider the story about my scar offensive? So do your part to stamp out scary offenses. Mount a new smoke alarm today. And install fresh batteries in all your existing alarms before Nov. 1.
