ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, September 19, 1994                   TAG: 9409220017
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: C-3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: By SEAN COLEMAN The News & Advance
DATELINE: LYNCHBURG (AP)                                LENGTH: Medium


FIREFIGHTERS HONE THEIR SKILLS AT SCHOOL

FEW JOBS INVOLVE as much urgency and danger as firefighting. To ensure keeping their cool, firefighters plunge into the flames during an annual training camp.

Fire is hot.

Well, no kidding. Everyone knows that.

What people might not know is that the space-age, fire-retardant suits that firefighters wear are also hot. VERY hot.

Combine the two, and we're talking fingernail-melting hot.

Clearly, it takes a special breed of person to fight fires.

``Face it, we're stupid,'' said David Jolly of the Petersburg Fire Department, an instructor at this year's fire school, which was held at Central Virginia Community College and the Lynchburg Fire Department's training grounds.

``What do we tell people to do when there is a fire? Get out. What do we do? Go in. How smart is that?''

The same question might be asked of the 30 men - each wearing 50 pounds of equipment - who were instructed to charge a burning building in search of two trapped dolls. But they actually were enjoying themselves immensely.

Volunteer and paid firefighters from across the state were in Lynchburg earlier this month for the annual school, where they learned about attacking fires, industrial fire suppression and fighting fires in confined spaces.

Describing the inside of a burning building is easy. It's dark and smoky. And hot, of course. The only thing you feel is your breath, a sensation akin to being tracked by a Darth Vader-wannabe. It's a disorienting sensation.

``You have to control your mind when you are inside,'' said Bill Hooper, a Martinsville firefighter. ``Otherwise, psychologically, it could really screw you up. A lot of people can't handle it.''

When you first enter the building, there is total blackness. Once your eyes adjust, all you can see is smoke and orange lights that you assume are flames.

The heat is intense, so crawling on hands and knees is recommended highly. The only cool spot is the oxygen coming from the 30-pound tank on your back. But it's a mixed blessing, because the siphoned air quickly dries out your mouth.

To combat the claustrophobia the smoke can induce, instructors advise people to talk to each other - if only total gibberish - so no one becomes paranoid.

The uniform that firefighters wear contributes to the sense of claustrophobia. Covered from head to foot, it is hard to focus on anything other than breathing.

The uniform is far from comfortable. It's hot and heavy and constricts movement. But it beats the heck out of any alternatives, and firefighters look at the uniform as a necessary evil.

``Personally, I don't like it, but I'd rather have it than not,'' Hooper said. ``Still, if you get to the point where you have no problems with it, it might be time to get out of the business.''

When asked why they do what they do, many firefighters respond with a rueful grin and a shrug of the shoulders.

``When I first started, it seemed really exciting,'' said Don Doughty of the Lyn-Dan Volunteer Fire Department. ``It still is, but that's not that important now.

``I guess I just like helping people, and this is the best way I can do it.''

The fun started when instructor Capt. T.C. Hairston divided the 30 students into groups to attack a burning house.

The house, if it could be called that, was a two-story structure, consisting entirely of cinder blocks. As instructors set fires in different parts of the house, smoke billowed out of the eight windows.

On the first run of the day, firefighters raced down the gravel road in three trucks, sirens blaring. Their job was to control the fire and rescue two people trapped inside.

They brought the fire under control, but it was a while before they found the baby - a plastic doll - and even longer before they found the mother - a headless dummy.

As a firefighter brought the baby out, Hairston looked at the doll, then checked his watch and shouted, ``We got a dead baby here!''

After about 10 minutes, the fire was extinguished. The group gathered in the shade under a tarp, gulping water while being critiqued.

Hairston said the first run of the day wasn't bad, except for the two ``dead'' bodies, of course.

``Don't ever extinguish a fire until a search is done,'' he cautioned. If water is used to extinguish a fire before trapped people are found, the steam complicates the search.

``If you have a hot dog, stand there and cook it,'' Hairston continued. ``Otherwise, do nothing.''



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