That's My Son

by Melissa Riley, Lafayette Country VFD

One of the greatest attractions to firefighting for me is that no two calls will ever be alike. Often extreme life dramas will unfold before you that are harsher than any movie or book can ever capture.

I was awakened by the county fire tones just after 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning in early August. We were dispatched to a structure fire and it was unknown if anyone was inside. The fire was in the south end of the county, right past where Highways 7 and 9 split off. It was about a ten minute drive with no traffic. As I crested one of the last hills going down Highway 7 I could see a dark column of smoke rising high in the air and being carried across the land to the west. It had been burning long enough for the smoke to get several hundred feet into the air.

It was an ominous site seeing the smoke, knowing that there was a strong possibility that it carried the ashes of a person with it. The dispatcher had come back and told us that there might be people inside the structure. I arrived just after the engine and had to park about 100 yards down the road because the flames were so large. The roof had already collapsed and you could see just part of a wall and the chimney remaining. If there was someone inside, it was far too late to do anything to save them. It now became a body salvage operation.

We pulled two hose lines off the engine and one was used to spray off the propane tank beside the house that was getting hot and the other was used to start extinguishing the flames from the house. With the roof collapsed, it was difficult to put out the fire because we just did not have the volume of water necessary to overcome the oxygen, heat, and fuel. It was an old log home from the turn of the century.

After some work (and the arrival of another engine to shuttle water so that we wouldn't run out) we had most of the fire extinguished. A few hot spots remained where the fire would attempt to flare back up, but the bulk of the fire was under control. While we were attempting to get control of the blaze a woman appeared on the scene who identified herself as the landlord and said she was unsure if the boy who lived there was home or not. The car was missing, but she said the boy had fought with his girlfriend the night before and she had left with the car. She pointed out the part of the house where he liked to sleep and then stood back and watched us. I went around to her and asked her how she was doing and then brought her around to the front of the house to wait with the fire officers and others. It was an unsafe scene for her to be around, but most importantly I did not want her to see him if he was still inside. A burnt body is the worst site imaginable.

We had the pike poles off of the engines (long fiberglass poles with hooks on the end for grabbing material) and were removing the tin roof off of the burnt remains of the building in an effort to try and locate a body if one existed. This was a long process as we had to be careful in case someone was underneath so as not to disturb them. Many of the firefighters on the scene had an EMT refresher course they had to attend and were forced to leave. That left a handful of us (it was extremely hot and humid, even that early in the morning) to complete the search and overhaul of the structure. We located the bed mattress springs and there was no trace of anyone on them. That was comforting. In the meantime the landlord lady and now her husband were still wandering back around to the rear of the structure to point out to us where the boy might have been. Again we took them back to the front and asked them to remain there. Despite this, they still would periodically return and stand behind us about twenty feet and watch in stoic silence.

After a period of searching one of the firefighters showed up with a cooler of water. He was a godsend, as we were all dying for something to drink. After a short break to get some water, we went back to work. That is when one of the firemen found the remains of a dog on the backside, in the smoldering remains of the house. It was a sad, nasty sight. You could see all of the muscle on the dog and it was a dark yellow and brown from the charring. Seeing the dog was harder on me than the human victims I have seen who have burnt up, because I had only had my dog Stormy for a few months, but could not imagine such a horrible death coming to such a trusting, loyal friend and companion. Seeing the dog meant one thing--the boy was most likely amidst the smoldering remains. Dogs are usually the first to leave and if the dog did not get out, the boy probably didn't either.

Word quickly spread about the discovery of the dog's remains. Soon the landlady and her husband were back behind us quietly observing again. The atmosphere became much more serious and silent as we began searching for the boy, confident that he was indeed inside. Despite all the evidence, we still had not located him after over an hour of searching. I stepped up on the backside of the house where the rear wall used to be with a short pike pole to remove the tin from the roof that had fallen over the laundry room area. The floor was so unstable that I only had two places to set my feet, one on the back beam and one on a side beam that ran perpendicular out across the floor towards the front of the house. I began to pull the tin sections off of the floor and pass them off in the yard behind me. As I removed the second piece, something unusual caught my eye. I looked closer and the image began to stand out like someone in camouflage after you have detected them in the woods. It appeared to be a human foot with the bones from the toes protruding out of the foot and towards the sky. I leaned closer for a better look and to make sure, as many items in the house seem to look alike after a fire has melted and destroyed them. I saw part of a leg coming out from the foot and knew for sure that it was human.

I motioned over to one of other firemen who was standing behind me, but between me and the landlady and her husband. When he came over I told him that I had found the boy and we needed to remove the landlady and her husband from behind here to the front so they could not see him. It is not the last image of the boy that I wanted them to be left with. The fireman asked what I saw and I pointed it out to him. He too said it looked human and got another fireman to take the woman and her husband to the front of the structure. We now had to wait on the coroner to arrive. In the meantime we had to cool off the body to prevent further burning and deterioration of the remains. I took the first turn and as gently as the water would come off of the firehouse I began to spray him. You have to be very careful as you can literally wash them away after such severe burning.

While waiting for the coroner, the county and state fire marshals arrived on the scene. They looked through the remains of the structure and at the boy and his dog. A little while later the coroner arrived and we waited while he did his business and the sheriffs took a report and strung yellow warning tape around the property. In the meantime we made another startling discovery. The landlady and her husband were the boy's parents. They leased the home to him and they themselves lived down the road. We watched across the smoldering remains of the boy and the house as the officers told them the confirmation of their worst fears, their son had been located and had died in the fire. Both of them immediately began screaming and crying and fell to their knees. It was awful to see such pain transpire right before you. It was all we could do not to cry ourselves seeing their tremendous pain. We took turns cooling the body and taking water breaks while waiting for the go-ahead to remove the body. We were near the parents when we took our water breaks in front of the house. We watched the parents go through different stages of grief. The sheriff officers did a good job keeping them in front of the house and away from their son. At one point they were less than ten feet away from us, leaning against each other's backs on the ground and crying their hearts out.

I could not imagine what they were going through. After a few minutes we offered them some water. The woman was standing up and drinking some when she passed out. Her husband caught her and we laid her on the ground among the weeds and tall grass beside an old storage barn that was falling down. We got her to regain consciousness and one of the fireman who was an EMT retrieved his oxygen kit and administered oxygen to her. While this occurred her other sons arrived. It was determined that the boy who died was 22-years-old and his brothers were just a little older. One of them was heavyset and came over to his mother and began prodding her to get up and come with him. We had her sitting up and on oxygen, but he insisted on taking her away. She could not even stand she was so overcome. He pulled the oxygen tube from her mask and then lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. He waked away to his car with her hanging over his shoulder, the mask still over her face, as she cried unashamed and flopped like a ragdoll with every step he took, her tears a mixture of exhaustion and extreme grief. It was the most pitiful sight I have ever witnessed.

A little while after she was taken to the car we received word that it was time to remove the body. Two firefighters would have to work their way into the remains of the home, over and into the burnt out flooring, to get to the body in order to lift it out. Of the handful that remained, only three of us said we would work with the body. The others set up the stretcher and then held large white sheets up so that the family could not see us remove him. One other firefighter and myself waded into the structure and found secure footholds beside the boy. What we had thought were his foot bones were actually his tibia and fibula from his leg bones. His foot had been burnt off completely. He was lying face down with his back legs bent and in the air with his arms outstretched before him. He had melted and fused onto what remained of the floor. His skin was dark brown and yellow and mostly muscular in texture. All of the outer skin was completely gone. Nothing remained of the back of his head but the skull. After some effort we were able to free him from the floor and carry him to the bodybag behind the structure and onto the stretcher. As we rotated him over onto his back we could see his face. A fine blood splattering surrounded his mouth, as if in mist form from a spray bottle. We learned later that he died from burns and not from smoke inhalation. Death by fire itself is the worst fate imaginable to me.

After the coroner left we still had to put out the remaining hot spots and do one last search to make sure his girlfriend was indeed gone and not inside, too, as she was still unaccounted for. Fortunately she turned up later that day alive and at her home. No one came for the dog, he remained with the structure. Out of kindness and respect we covered its body with the shell of the refrigerator so that the birds circling overhead would not feast on it once we were gone. The last thing the family needed was to return and see the family dog being feasted upon by vultures.

Finally, six hours later, we were allowed to leave. My legs were so raw from my turnout boots and sweat that I hated to walk at all. Those of us who had handled the body were reluctant to even touch our turnout coats we had taken off because of the remains that were still on them. One of the firemen gave another firefighter and me a ride to our trucks in the back of his own. Those few hundred feet of walking saved were a godsend to my raw shins. I placed my turnout gear in my truck as best I could without touching anything else. The first place I was headed was the city fire station to wash my turnout gear.

What do you gain from a call like that? No lives were saved and a great emotional toll was taken from every emergency worker on the scene that day. I see it that I am still helping to care for other people. Even though he was dead, he had to be removed and taken care of, and his family had to be handled as well as possible. I took it as a service to cool his body, remove it and to pray for him and his dog in the process. Someone has to do it or else it will never get done. We are still helping others, even if they have died. It is also a tremendous learning experience. I grew ten years in that one morning in Mississippi. Everything I knew became more precious. My present stresses became lessened. I was still alive and well. I still have time on this earth. Not every call will be "Yeeha!" and "Hell, yeah." It will try you to the edge both physically and emotionally. But experience is gained and people are helped. And it is still the greatest honor for God to allow me to serve other people, however be His will for my service. My God, how great thou art.