Brotherhood of Fire

By J. A. Guinn

A small rural fire department in North Idaho has only four full-time members, a chief, and an office manager. The district relies heavily on volunteers to provide a proper service to the rural community. The chief is relatively new, anticipating this fire district would operate at a much slower pace than the one he came from in southern California, but he was sadly mistaken. Malfunctioning equipment and insufficient funds to conduct the repairs started resulting in loss of buildings and loss of life. Chief Keeting had seen plenty of that in California, including loss of his own new wife and unborn child when his house burned down while he was gone on a job interview. He was just out of engineering college and was about to land a very lucrative engineering job in New Mexico when tragedy struck. His faith in God finally pulled him through but on a different course-that of becoming a firefighter and EMT. However, the recent incidents kept dredging up those old memories. He was working hard trying to provide a service to his community but felt he was failing and didn't understand why, not until a small group of local citizens contacted the state attorney-general who sent-with Chief Keeting's approval-an undercover firefighter to try to resolve the problems did Chief Keeting start feeling he was getting his head above water.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098078102

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was a starless November night with heavy, moisture-laden clouds hugging low over the mountaintops, giving a hint of the snow that was coming. In contrast, like an early-morning fog, rancid smoke from the smoldering structure hung low to the ground and in the surrounding trees. The air smelled burnt, not like from a barbeque or a bonfire but like rubber tire with the hint of burned paint, seared metal, and soggy, wet singed clothing.

As water methodically dripped from the brim of his soot-stained white fire-chief helmet, Jason Keeting trudged through the mud and gravel surrounding the remnants of what used to be a single-family residence. Prior to the fire, this residence had been a hodgepodge structure consisting of a mobile home with add-on wood-framed rooms to provide more living space. Not much was left of this house now, only the remnants of a stone chimney now blackened by fire, a woodstove insert, and the twisted, melted metal roofing from the trailer. What was left of the metal appliances—washer, dryer, and fridge—was black and covered with roof debris.

As Spruce Bay Fire Chief Jason Keeting continued walking the fire scene, he observed two of his firefighters shooting water from a straight nozzle on a two-and-a-half-inch hose into a hot spot inside the destroyed structure. Putting the wet stuff on the red stuff was the phrase his guys used to describe that activity. It was necessary to wet down and drown any hot spots to prevent a spontaneous restart of the fire, which no fire chief ever wanted to have happen.

Like an erupting volcano, steam mixed with ash boiled into the air from the smoldering ruins of the house where Jerry aimed the water stream. Nothing appeared to be salvageable. Eventually, the debris would have to be hauled away and the house rebuilt from the ground up, or, as was with the previous house, another mobile home might be brought in to be placed on the existing concrete slab.

Jason observed most of his firefighters collecting unused equipment to include rolling up hose that would be returned to Station 1. This equipment would all have to be thoroughly cleaned and dried before being put back in service. His firefighter’s protective water, chemical, and fire-resistant bunker gear—or turnouts as they were often called—were contaminated with toxic smoke and debris from the fire and smelled as bad. That gear would also all have to be thoroughly washed back at Station 1 in Spruce Bay, one of two small communities in his fire district before it could be worn again to another call. Otherwise they could contaminate other equipment or, more importantly, contaminate the firefighters themselves.

The fire in this modular combination wood-frame trailer home was now just about out, and all that remained of the blackened ruin was the stone chimney remnants standing like a grotesque gravestone. So far, no one had been found in the debris, no human, that is. Early in the fire attack at the front door, a large dog of some type and a cat were found dead just inside the entrance door. It appeared they tried to escape, getting only as far as the front door before they both succumbed to the smoke and flames. Both animals had been burned enough that the dog’s breed was not even recognizable. The unmistakable odor of the burnt animal bodies had hit them shortly after first arriving at the fire.

Jason had smelled enough of those odors in his career. When a family lost their home to a fire, it was traumatic enough without adding to it the loss of pets. It could be devastating to the home owner, especially to any children in the family. In this part of the country, pets were sometimes a person’s only family.

If this structure was to be rebuilt, it would have to be from the ground up. A lot of homeowners didn’t have insurance, so these ruins could stay this way until they became overgrown with grass and weeds if the homeowners couldn’t afford to rebuild.

Seeing smoke still rising from one spot on the far side of the ruins, Jason shouted out to his two firefighters on the two-and-half-inch hose, Jerry, you and Brody move that two and half over to the CD corner and get that hot spot. Jason did not have to give these two experienced firefighters a compass direction. Just using the alphabetical designation CD told them where to go. A was the front of the structure, then going left around the house the sides were designated B, C, and D. When instructions were being given in the middle of a hot fire attack, this direction designation saved time and confusion.

You got it, Chief, Jerry shouted back, closing the nozzle that shutdown the water stream as he and Brody then shouldered the heavy, water-charged hose and began dragging it through the wet, soggy grass down the D side of the building. With the roof and part of the walls having collapsed, warping into unrecognizable piles of debris, it was impossible to determine what part of the house this was.

Jerry Martin was one of Jason’s full-time firefighters and EMTs and one of his sharpest, even though he only had two years’ experience. Brody Jackson was an experienced volunteer. He was small but very strong and very smart. Despite having a full-time job as an electrician, he still responded to calls every chance he got.

As Jerry and Brody struggled through the wet grass with the hose around the side of what was left of the structure, one of Jason’s female volunteers lumbered toward him with a stack of two-and-half hose on her shoulder. As she approached him, he said to her, Annie, I was just going to ask you to start collecting gear and get it all loaded back on Engine 621, but I see you have already started that. You are thinking ahead. Thanks. By the way, have you seen Shaun or Alecia? Last I saw them they were over at the neighbors, who reported the fire, to get a statement from them.

Yeah, I saw them through the woods a minute ago, Chief, still talking with the Reporting Party [RP].

Annie Hoffman was one of Jason’s full-time volunteers. Even though she was a thirty-five-year-old housewife with two kids to care for, she still attended all required training periods and responded to way more calls than most other volunteers, far more often than Jason expected. She was a tough lady who gave several of the guys a run for their money when it came to completing training and live-fire tasks. She was looked up to by all of his personnel, men and women alike.

As Annie continued toward the engine with the hose lay over her shoulder, Jason turned in the direction of the neighboring house where he could barely see his two volunteers through the trees and smoke that still hugged the ground. If his two volunteers and the neighbors hadn’t been standing under a barn light, he could not have seen them at all. Lodgepole and jack pine trees covered the hundred yards between them, and it was surprising the neighbor was even able to see the fire to report it. It looked like Shaun and Alecia were still talking to the neighbor.

*****

Having worked their way around to the CD corner of the ruined structure dragging the two-and-a-half-inch hose, Jerry with Brody standing behind him giving him support, hit the base of the smoke with the straight stream, uprooting pieces of burnt wood and ashes. With their air masks off and their helmet, plexiglass face masks pulled down to keep the ashes out of their eyes, it was still a little difficult for them to see what they were doing, but something wasn’t right. Some of the burnt wood and ashes should have gone flying when the straight stream pounded into it. That wasn’t happening.

Brody, take that pike pole and dig down in that spot so I can get water to it. Something’s in the way, Jerry directed.

With the nozzle shut down, Brody let go of the hose where he was standing behind Jerry for support, grabbed the ten-foot pike pole thinking he was glad he hadn’t brought the shorter six-foot one from the engine. Otherwise, he would have had to walk down into the wet, burned debris, and he was wet and dirty enough as it was.

As he jabbed into the debris with the pike pole, pulling with the hook, Brody suddenly let out a muffled profanity. Jerry looked at Brody, and seeing his face a stark white against the black soot that covered parts of it, he looked to where Brody had stuck his pike pole. Jerry recognized the problem. Call the chief, Brody. Get him over here!

They didn’t need to make the call. Jason, who had been watching their actions, was already headed in their direction. As he approached Brody and Jerry, he saw the look on their faces. This did not look good. Brody had the pike pole pushed into the debris, and as Jason stopped, Brody pointed to what was hooked on the end of the pole. A boot with what appeared to be part of a blackened leg attached was sticking up out of the debris. Patches of pink and a hunk of white bone could be seen through the crusted black surface.

Standing with his hands on his hips, Jason stared but tried not to stare at the scene. Seeing this gruesome sight, he instantly knew there was worse under the debris he could not see. Digging the body out was not going to be an enjoyable task for any of his guys, especially those who were inexperienced.

Earlier in the evening when he first heard the tone out over the radio, Jason’s initial thought was this would just be a chimney fire because that is what the majority of the fires were this time of year. Even though he distributed flyers at summer’s end, reminding homeowners to ensure their chimneys were in good repair and advised them of the importance of cleaning their chimneys before their first fall use, many ignored the flyers. However, once he had arrived on scene, he saw the home was fully engulfed and there was no saving it. At that point, he would not even send any firefighter in to conduct an interior attack. It was too dangerous with nothing to gain.

With his guys now in the mop-up phase, he had hoped to be finished, packed up, and headed back to the station in the next thirty minutes, but that was not going to happen for him. Even though the engines would be loaded up ready to head out, it would be awhile before the fire inspector and coroner arrived to conduct their investigation. Jason decided there was no need to keep the other crews here now, so he turned around looking for his second-in-command, Matt Aaron.

Getting his engines back to the station cleaned up, restocked, and ready to roll for the next fire call was imperative. It might be an hour or a month before they had another structure fire, but he couldn’t count on anything in this county. Too many structure fires had broken out in his district recently with his crews not being able to control them before the structures were completely demolished. He didn’t understand why this was happening and was getting more concerned every day.

Admittedly, they were having some equipment problems that affected their efficiency, but that was nothing new, especially for a small rural department like his. As Jason pondered his concerns, he observed Matt headed his way. Matt Aaron, Captain Matt as his brother firefighters called him, was lumbering the chief’s way, his turnouts and face black with soot, his helmet askew, with his mask hanging from the strap around his neck. A combination of smoke that had adhered to his turnout jacket accompanied by steam from his body heat hitting the cold November air rose from him like a Yellowstone Park’s volcanic fissure. Being the most experienced firefighter and advanced EMT in his district, Matt was also Jason’s right-hand man and second-in-command. Arriving next to Jason and taking a bottle of water he was offered, Matt asked, What do you think, Chief? Accident?

No idea, right now, Matt. There are bigger concerns. Looks like we have a body in the debris, so I have put in a call for the fire inspector and coroner. It will probably be an hour before they arrive, so I need you to get all the vehicles and equipment back to Station 1, cleaned and ready to go.

Can do, Chief. Is it the homeowner, or do we know yet?

"That will be up to the coroner to decide since, from what I could see, the body is burnt almost beyond recognition. I’m remaining on scene until they get here so you can radio everyone else clear of the scene and head out."

On my way.

Returning to his truck to await the fire inspector and coroner, the scene pulled Jason’s thoughts to the past. Eighteen years earlier actually. Having just graduated from Cal State Davis with an engineering degree and with a new wife who was already pregnant, Jason’s future was bright. He had some great employment prospects, one of which was with the US government working on a nuclear program in New Mexico. Returning from there where he met with the company’s executives for his third and hopefully final interview, his plane had just landed back home in Spokane, Washington. Heading out to his car in the overnight parking area, he had received a call from his mother-in-law. It had been hard to understand Kay. She was sobbing and struggling to talk, and finally his father-in-law, David, took the phone from her. He wasn’t much better.

There had been an explosion and fire at Jason’s rental house. His wife, Angelica, had been napping when it happened. His first thought was they might just have been injured, but that was not the case. His wife and unborn baby had both died in the fire.

Chapter 2

The sound of the support vehicle engine, which Matt had just entered and which he was getting ready to drive to Station 1, pulled Jason’s attention away from his past musings. He exited his vehicle and waved Matt down.

What’s up, Chief? Did I forget something?

No, Matt, Jason said as he approached the vehicle. I just have a couple of quick questions for you. Can you give be a rough breakdown of how our response occurred? Were you first on scene?

Yes, sir. I arrived in my POV with Engine 621 right behind me. My first appraisal disclosed no flames showing, but smoke was seeping out of various cracks and around the eaves. Jerry and Brody pulled a crosslay off E-621 and were prepared to breach the front door. Something looked odd, so I went up to a window and could tell the house was full of smoke. Turned out the front door was locked, so I had Jerry breach the door but standing back in the event of a backdraft. That is exactly what happened. Being starved for oxygen, as soon as the door was breached, there was a small explosion as air was sucked in, then flames and heat forced Jerry and Brody further away from the door. While this was occurring, Alecia was on the engine, engaging the pump so they would have a charged line, but the pump would not engage. Jerry and Brody pulled back further from the door and waited for water. Alecia had to shut the engine down, restart it, and finally the pump engaged, but by that time, there was flashover, and we couldn’t go inside. The whole place was fully engulfed.

Okay, thanks, Matt. I’ll let you get going.

We never get a break, do we, Chief?

No, Matt, we sure don’t seem to. It doesn’t look like there was anything more we could have done on this one though. I don’t like to speculate, but this is the fifth fire this month, and normally, we only have one or two this time of year, and they are usually just chimney fires. After a pause and with a look of concern on his face, he added, My biggest concern is why the pump would not engage. We just had maintenance completed on it, so it should have been in perfect working condition.

Don’t know, Chief. Dunn lives just around the corner, so I called him. Knowing how he babies these engines like they were his own vehicles, he ran over to look at it. Don’t know what the problem was, and neither did Dunn, but I will get the engine and pump checked out tomorrow.

Wait for me to get approval and a work order. Don’t know who we’ll have to use. Lately, we have had to go to one place, which I haven’t been happy about. I’ll call Commissioner Sherry and see what he says.

Good luck with that, Chief. Glad you have to deal with him. I don’t know how you deal with the commissioners, Matt said with obvious disgust in his voice.

Patience, Matt. Knowing when to keep my mouth shut and knowing which battles not to fight. If you are going to be chief one day, you need to figure that out.

Well, you can have it. I am happy right where I am. You know, when we get ready to unionize, they are going to fight it every step of the way.

I do, Matt, but we will deal with that when it happens.

When Jason first arrived in Spruce Bay Fire, Matt had been pretty much running the district. He was well versed on the temperament of the fire district and knew most everything that was going on. He also seemed to know a little bit about any topic that came up in conversation.

Matt’s varied experience and training included the ability to peel back the roof of a car to extricate a patient, taking the lead on an internal fire attack, repelling down a cliffside to rescue a hiker, or leading a wildland fire attack. Although Matt seldom talked about himself, Jason had heard others talk about him—in particular, how he lived off the grid in a little cabin he built himself where he had no electricity or running water. He loved it that way. It was said that he also had an outdoor hot tub and a sauna that he heated with wood.

There were also a number of skills he possessed that were outside the realm of his fire duties, not the least of which was how to skin a skunk. If someone came across a deer roadkill and called Matt, it would probably be gone before the coyotes could get to it. The next day, the hide could likely be found drying on his shed wall, and if the roadkill was recent, you would probably find the meat in his locker.

Hiring and keeping quality people in this area was difficult. They kept getting hired away by other departments that paid more. One of those exceptions was Matt. He lived in the area and had no desire to move away. There also was no desire expressed by him to move up in the ranks to eventually become a chief of his own department. He was happy and comfortable where he was. Jason could hardly blame Matt for not wanting to become a fire chief after seeing what Jason had been going through since he arrived in Kincaid County, Idaho. The county consisted of several individual fire districts of which Spruce Bay was just one and was the smallest.

Jason had not yet been hired when Matt started at Spruce Bay Fire, but he heard the story about how Matt came to be a firefighter. There had been a brush fire down near the outskirts of Spruce Bay one summer, and as other volunteer firefighters arrived on the scene, Matt showed up in his Jeep volunteering to help fight the fire. Since he was not trained and certified, he was told he couldn’t help as it could cause a liability to the fire department if he were to be injured. Matt worked in construction, mostly on new house construction, and decided at that point he did not want to end up a fifty-year-old man physically broken down from the construction work. So he started inquiring about how to get trained as a firefighter, went through all the training, then came onboard at Spruce Bay Fire as a volunteer. As soon as a paid position opened up, he competed for the job, beating out all the other volunteers and outside applicants. Jason never heard anything that would indicate Matt regretted that decision for even a second. Jason knew he was blessed to have such outstanding and dedicated men and women on his crew.

Unfortunately, prior to Jason being hired, several of the full-time personnel were summarily terminated or forced to resign by the Board of Commissioners. No one could give Jason a valid explanation for the terminations other than the older, more experienced firefighters were pushing to unionize. By getting rid of them, perhaps the Board of Commissioners figured they could reduce costs by hiring less-experienced people to whom they would not have to pay as much, and that would stop the move to unionize, which would also save money. Those terminated had not, from all information Jason could gather, done anything to warrant the terminations. Once replacements were hired, that then lowered the average experience level of his firefighters from eleven years to about three years. It was not a good situation.

*****

It took only a half hour for Harvey Dobbs, the Idaho State fire investigator, and Jennifer Mead, the Kincaid County coroner, to arrive. Watching them approach down the snow-covered long road, one behind the other, Jason brought his thoughts back to the present. He needed to get focused. If he was going to be the kind of fire chief his father would have been proud of, he needed to get his mind off the past and make the most of this job. It had been eighteen years since the death of his family, and it was time to get over it.

Well, he would never completely get the past out of his mind nor get over that tragedy of losing his family. If it hadn’t been for his faith in the Lord, he would not have been able to push it on to the back burner where it would simmer. He had lost his way for a short time but realized he needed to put his life in the Lord’s hands because it was certainly out of his hands. Jennifer Mead had also been a big help to him the last year or so in getting him to look to the future. She was the first woman he had been able to bring himself to foster any deep feelings since his wife’s death, and she was very understanding of his past. Her faith in him was very supportive for him.

As Jason waited the arrival of Harvey and Jennifer, his two volunteers, Shaun and Alecia, approached him, having returned from the neighbor’s house.

Hey, Chief, Shaun shouted as he and Alecia approached.

What’s up, Shaun? Find anything interesting?

"Yeah, we did. The neighbors didn’t know the guy that lived here very well, only that he was single and always seemed to be out cutting firewood. They knew him as Dru Farmer and said he had told them stories of bringing his wet firewood inside and storing