My first experience with fire was in North Texas. For some reason my Grandparents would set fire to the pasture and burn it off. The kids were issued wet burlap sacks and when the fire line got close to the fence posts, we would beat it out. Usually you would have to go back several times as the fire kept springing back up.
Years later while trying to make some money to pay for college expenses, I was working for my Dad. He had a secondary business cleaning up FHA repossessed houses. Bobby Katz and I were each straw bosses of separate crews. When we would get a house we would haul off all of the debris, mow, edge and clean the yards. After that we would keep them mowed until they were sold. Some houses would be relatively clean and some would have so much junk, numerous trips to the dump were required to leave the house and garage "Broom Clean".
On one particular occasion, Bobby and I were working together when we went to a new house on the list late in the work day. Upon arrival it was apparent that this was to be a big job. The house and garage were full of junk, In addition, an old chicken coop was in the back and was also full. We made the decision to come back the next morning and burn the chicken coop and everything else that was combustible. Since open burning was still allowed at that time, it would save us several trips to the dump.
The next morning we arrived, pulled the metal out of the coop, threw in some boards and boxes and set the thing on fire. Within minutes the fire was out of control. It had jumped to a nearby tree and the water hose we had wouldn't reach. Before we knew it, the local fire truck arrived and quickly brought the situation under control. When the fire captain came up to me to tell me everything was OK, I asked if they would mind sticking around as we were going to "light-off" the garage next. It was at that point I knew he was serious and we could face consequences.
In the early 80's we had moved to the country and burning brush was a way of life. One Spring, I had a small burn pile. I started it burning, raked a good fire break and went to the front where I was sitting in a lawn chair reading a book. The cordless phone I had brought with me started to ring. It was my neighbor suggesting that I might want to check my fire. When I went around the back the fire had jumped my fire break and was burning the leaves in the yard. It had reached the flower bed and rack of firewood. Although not threatening, the flames burning the azaleas was leaping high in the air. I grabbed the leaf rake and as I was beating out the fire line, I looked up and the volunteer fire department had showed up. They unrolled their hose and put out the wood pile. The fireperson on the nozzle was the 16 year old daughter of one of my DuPont co-workers. Needless to say I heard about that for awhile.
Since that episode I have studied hard and become a Certified Burn Master. It came in handy years later after Hurricanes Rita, Humberto and Ike caused extensive damage and a lot of burning to clean up the mess.
