LESSONS ON FIRE

There was one smoky disaster after another last week at Seth Woodard Elementary, but nothing fire-conscious third-graders couldn’t handle.

Spokane Valley firefighters didn’t have to rescue any of the dozens of children who got “trapped” in a smoke-filled bedroom. They all got out on their own.

There might have been no emergency at all if firefighters hadn’t been so careless about leaving combustible materials next to heat sources in a travel trailer in the school parking lot.

But the kids did their best to eliminate the hazards before retiring to the bedroom at the back of the houselike EDITH trailer. That’s short for Exit Drills in the House.

The trailer, owned by the Inland Empire Fire Chiefs Association, is used by fire departments throughout the region to teach home fire safety to children.

The Spokane Valley Fire Department goes to 26 public and private grade schools in its district every year, half in the spring and half in the fall.

Firefighters planned to wrap up this fall’s two-week, 600-student EDITH tour Friday at Pasadena Elementary.

Each third-grade tour is preceded by a two-week Junior Fire Marshal program in second-grade classes. Second-graders watch a video and get plastic helmets and badges and certificates when they turn in a home fire safety survey.

Deputy Fire Marshal Bill Clifford said any home found not to have a smoke detector gets one free.

He said the training paid off in June when an early morning fire broke out in a mobile home in the 13800 block of East Wellesley.

A 12-year-old girl and her 10-year-old brother heard a smoke detector and alerted their grandparents. Everyone got out safely even though one of the exits was blocked, Clifford said.

Coping with a blocked exit is a big part of what the EDITH trailer is designed to teach. The trailer has one exterior door and three little rooms: a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom.

Actually, there’s a fourth room with a door that stays shut.

“Oh, that’s like the ‘Wizard of Oz’ room,” engineer Scott Tschirgl said when Savannah Silver wanted to know what the door hid. “We don’t go in there.”

The closet-size room contained all the equipment necessary to fill the bedroom with nontoxic “theatrical” smoke and make the bedroom door get hot.

“I think that was an awesome smoke,” Aaron Jackson said after he escaped out a window.

He and his classmates might have gone out the bedroom door, but they took the precaution of putting the backs of their hands against the door. They knew there was a fire on the other side of the door because it was hot.

Tschirgl told them to use the backs of their hands so they could still use their palms for crawling if they got burned.

The first thing they did when the smoke detector went off and the room filled with smoke was to get on their hands and knees.

Firefighters crawl, too, even though they have oxygen masks and other protective equipment, Tschirgl said. Down on the floor is where the smoke is thinnest and visibility is best, he said.

“I’m scared,” Ciara Tennison said in a voice as theatrical as the smoke.

Fortunately, the group had just gone over its bedroom exit plan. The third-graders also had watched a fire safety video in class earlier in the day.

“It’s so important,” teacher Susan Holmes said.

Only six to eight children could go through the EDITH trailer at a time, so firefighters brought an engine to occupy those who were waiting to enter the “house.”

“Let them know their recess counts on this,” teacher Colette Flynn whispered to paraeducator SanJuana Alvarez when they split up their class.

Alvarez took the students who waited, and they found plenty about the truck to keep them interested.

“It’s like a big tool box,” engineer David Sanchez told the kids as he and firefighter Scott Whitaker showed pumps, hoses, ladders, extrication equipment and first-aid supplies.

The truck carried about 30 bathtubs of water, Sanchez said.

“Holy cow!” Haley Nava exclaimed when Sanchez opened a valve and water gushed out.

It was Sanchez’s turn to be surprised when he asked how many “football fields” of hose the children thought were folded on the engine.

“How many times have you had this class before?” Sanchez asked when Ashley Crowder correctly answered three.

It was just a guess, she said.

Later, Jacob McCullough made the same good guess.

Inside the trailer, Tschirgl and firefighter Tony Perry were more successful at stumping their audiences.

The kids were quick to see the hazard of cookbooks and wash cloths on stove burners, but an errant pot handle got them almost every time. Sticking out from the range, the handle was an invitation for “little brother” to pull a pot of hot food onto his head.

“What do you guys think about the handle being out like that?” Perry asked, triggering gasps of enlightenment.

Everyone knew a matchbook shouldn’t have been left on the living room floor, within reach of children. But Kyler Shoemaker forgot he was a kid when he helpfully stooped to pick up the matches.

Aspiring firefighter Conner Campbell was all over the smoke detector that hadn’t been properly installed.

He brought an elaborate, tri-fold home fire plan, mounted on poster boards, for professional inspection.

“Look at this!” Perry marveled. “Nice job, Conner. That looks great.”

Dylan Almeida wanted to know whether the firefighters had a plan of their own.

“What do you do if your own truck gets on fire?” he asked.

“Well,” Perry countered, “what did they tell you to do if your house is on fire?”

Here’s a clue:

If you’re not on fire yourself, “stop, drop and roll” is the wrong answer.