2006 Oklahoma Fires
|
| In March we flew out to Las Vegas in
Jim & Tami Burns' Piper Aztec. En route we ran into hellacious, almost
unbelievable winds. At one point our ground speed was clocked at 54
knots -- in a plane that normally flies 160 knots! |
|
| During this time, grass fires sprang
up in Texas and Oklahoma. Millions of acres burned, and several cities
were threatened by the conflagration. The selfless actions of
thousands of firefighters saved countless lives and homes. |
|
| Joe Schneider, a pilot based in
Woodward, Oklahoma (KWWR) works at a chemical plant that was
threatened by the fires, and is a part of the plant's emergency response
team. He also owns a small ranch that was threatened, so the threat
posed by these fires was very personal. His
remarkable story, along with his photos, are below. (Click on the small pix
for a larger version...) |
|
| So... I'm having this bad dream.
It's 3:30 am and I can't sleep. The wind is howling its ferocious song and I
think the wind turbine vents are about to overspeed into total oblivion. I
groggily put on my robe and walk out into the garage, retrieve a flashlight,
snap on the backyard light and force myself to head out into the gale. In
the dream, I'm conscious the neighbors may also be awake and think this
idiot is creating quite a spectacle in his flying robe and white briefs
waving a flashlight unsteadily at the attic vents and patio roof. Three lag
bolts have torn loose and the metal roofing is beginning to levitate like an
overloaded Cherokee. The vents are about to go into overspeed, their
bearings screaming in protest. Too smart to get up on the roof under those
conditions I thud heavily into my easy chair rather than wake up the wife
trying to re-enter the bed where I know I'll never get to sleep. The walls
are creaking under the strain of natures forces. As the dream continues, I
find myself at work and the wind just keeps building like a freight train
rolling down a mountain. Unstoppable, unrelenting, unforgiving. We catch
news on the radio of wildfires North of my hometown a few miles away. Winds
are now 60 mph and we all gasp at what could be about to happen. Adrenalin
in a dream? One of my direct reports, a volunteer firefighter gets paged and
asks to leave. I give the o.k. with an admonishment to be careful. I head
home for lunch. A fire has broken out 3/4 mile East of our house. It is
quickly extinguished before I get there, Thank God, by reserve firefighters
left in town just for such an emergency. Only 30 or 40 acres burned. |
|
| The dream is now turning into a
nightmare of the worst kind. Towns from all over the area are sending
volunteers to risk their lives. Two small town schools are being evacuated.
The school buses from one are needed so they can be used to help evacuate
the prison. The convicts are going to be housed in a High School Gymnasium.
The other school, in a different town is in real danger. School buses ferry
children to a landmark hill where frantic, coughing parents, trying to see
through the smoke and haze rendezvous and retrieve their most precious
possessions, their offspring. |
|
| Smoke is seen billowing in the
Northwest. Ten or Twelve miles away? Moving away from us here at work. At
work in a chemical refinery. A large chemical refinery. A refinery with
storage capacity of 7 million gallons of highly flammable methanol. Yes,
methanol whose flames can be invisible. Suddenly, the horrible thought
occurs. This horrific windstorm is the precursor of a powerful frontal
boundary moving through the area. A wind shift is inevitable. And if history
has its way, we could be directly in the path of the building firestorm.
|
 |
|
The two tanks in the upper right are 2
million and 5 million gallons of methanol. You can see the railyard in the
background. This picture was taken on 3/25/06 before the latest fires.
|
|
| Winds from the Southwest race
across the prairie, stampeding cattle in a futile attempt at escape. Two
fires breakout at a town 20 miles to the Southeast, one on each side. The
wind is whipping tree branches into power lines and sparks are flying like
4th of July sparklers. More people leave work to check on family and join
fire brigades. One of our maintenance technician loses 9000 dollars worth of
cattle as they reach a fence and are trapped into a "too early in their
lives BBQ". |
|
| We assemble our Emergency Response
Team, notify our backup units, break out the radio scanners and order the
firewater system switched from the emergency reserve tank to city water. The
fire brigade unfurls roll after roll of firehose and supervisors have crews
begin wetting down the plant perimeter. How much time do we have? The wind
is now in the West, Northwest. Stronger than ever. Fire is closing at 50
miles per hour. The windsocks placed for use in evacuations in case of vapor
releases look as straight as a rail on an overdose of Viagra. I order
railcars of flammable chemical moved from the two North railyard tracks
closest to the plant perimeter inward to tracks 5 and 6. Fortunately, the
pullout train arrives and moves most of the dangerous cars for us. |
|
| Somewhere in the midst of this I
have a flashback. I picture Honeck and Burns fighting to control the twin
Piper in a violent dance to the runway at Dalhart about two weeks ago. It's
just a quick snapshot in a nightmare that is whirling out of control. |
|
| Farmers, ranchers, clerks, and
accountants are facing a 40 foot wall of fire, now racing through the
wildlife reserve five miles away. They bravely make a stand as multiple
fires merge. Dozers, road graders, and farmers on tractors are feverously
working to widen fire breaks. Dust and haze lower visibility to 1/2 mile at
our location and the fire is still 5 to 7 miles away. |
 |
|
Here's the dam spillway and wolf creek. It is back down now, but you can
see were the fire was stopped and the area burned in the background. |
|
| Now the nightmare gets weird as most
nightmares are want to do. Someone makes the desperate decision to open the
floodgates at the dam. It is a desperate gamble. A million to one shot.
Perhaps raising Wolf Creek could prevent the fire from reaching homes near
the highway. The fire is descending on the Fort from which Custer departed
to wipe out Black Kettle at the Battle of the Washita. How ironic that the
Indians used prairie fires as a tactic to battle the cavalry. Ever notice
how nightmares go off on a tangent? |
| |
| If the fire wall jumps the highway we
will be consumed. The city is only two miles from the plant. It has already
jumped several dirt roads and two or three other two lane asphalt highways.
And then the tanker arrives. No, not the oil field tanker trucks supplying
the fire units. This is the aerial tanker. The forest service tanker led by
a small twin... with a lady pilot. |
 |
|
Note how close the fire came to town. |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| A calm soothing female voice breaks
over the "oh so masculine" ground firefighters radios. She slowly leads the
behemoth tanker through a laboriously slow upwind pass. A dry run to gauge
their position and build their strategy. As they turn downwind they pick up
incredible speed and bank hard, very hard as they swoosh by and then slow to
a seeming standstill headed back into the wind. Firefighters stop to
watch... watch unbelievably, with soot covered faces and worn exhausted
bodies. The show is on and they cheer even though they believe there isn't a
chance in the devil's own hell that this little female voice can do them a
bit of good. |
| |
| One dry pass, two fake passes...
suddenly marker smoke deploys from the twin and the pregnant dinosaur
tightens up and blindly follows as if on a leash. Over the radio with an
audience in awe, she coaxes the beast to follow exactly as she instructs.
Red retardant explodes from the belly of the beast in a display that is
indescribable to someone who is facing fate a close quarters. |

|
|
A close-up shot of the town. |
| |
| |
| |
|
| Firefighters' helmets fly skyward
like caps at a High School graduation and the beast lays down a drifting
line of salvation ordered straight from heaven. A line that, as if by magic
transforms flame into smoke. A little bit of Heaven in a whole lot of Hell. |
|
| As the firefighters gather
themselves back up. They attack with renewed vigor. The tanker calls in to
the local airport and wants to know if the runway will support their 70,000
pound weight. It will but the taxi ways and ramp won't. They are relegated
to aerial surveillance. But the firefighters grasp the chance, determined to
deal the final fatal blow in this win a little lose a lot battle. Long hours
later as the wind slowly ebbs, the dying embers do too. |
|
| 24 fire departments (not all, but
most volunteer) from three states. The Red Cross. At least (5) 18 wheel
tanker trucks from the oil field companies. Countless road graders, dozers
tractors, many supplied by individuals and privately owned companies.
Highway Patrol and Sheriffs from all over directing traffic. One brand new
fire truck totally destroyed. (A roll over into a ditch in low visibility.
Consumed by fire, firefighter rescued). Two injured volunteer firefighters.
(Eye injuries). One Park Headquarters damaged? A few out buildings lost. No
civilians hurt. No school children hurt. One house lost. Several with minor
water and smoke damage. |
 |
|
Post-fire land whipped into sand dunes by 60
mph winds. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| No Heroes left. |
|
| Bullshit! |
|
| There are Heroes in the Heartland.
|
|
| Oh..... it wasn't a dream |
|
| It wasn't a nightmare. |
|
| It happened yesterday. |
|
| Right here. |
|
| Just another day in drought ridden
Tornado Alley. |
|
|
- Joe Schneider 8437R |