By Stephen Smoot
Starting on November 5, the 40th anniversary of the horrific floods that hammered eastern West Virginia, Pendleton County’s emergency responders went into a battle that raged in different parts of the county for about two weeks.
Like much of the eastern side of West Virginia, Pendleton County had settled into what the federal government defines as “Severe Drought.” A general lack of precipitation since mid summer, plus raging winds from the typical temperature fluctuations of this time of year plagued the entire area.
It started on Big Mountain, near the Pendleton and Pocahontas county lines. Winds whipping between 35 and 45 miles per hour drove the flames up the steep and rocky incline. Volunteer fire departments from all over Pendleton County responded, joined by support from neighboring West Virginia counties, units from the Old Dominion, and also the West Virginia Division of Forestry and United States Forest Service.
For days, the fire defied efforts to extend containment beyond 30 percent, but the hard work of responders, plus the gift of helpful cold, rainy, and snowy weather, helped to tame the blaze and prevent it from moving on to threaten homes, businesses, or the nearby roadways.
Just as mopping up started on Big Mountain, volunteer fire units again responded to the outbreak of fires on Nov 12. One erupted behind Eagle Rock in Smoke Hole Canyon near the Grant and Pendleton County lines. Units from Pendleton and Grant responded in the middle of the night. They had to bring watercraft to cross the South Branch, get into the thick and rocky land on the other side, and make the difficult trek to the fire.
Thankfully, this got extinguished, but not long after, winds of almost 50 miles per hour helped to rapidly expand a fire that broke out north of Franklin in Greenawalt Gap. Fierce winds kept this fire raging and also started a second blaze nearby.
In addition to responders from Pendleton, Grant, and Virginia, Moorefield VFD also sent help for this fire.
For almost two weeks straight, fire fighters responded to the call of duty. Locals who rushed toward the danger as part of their duty were not men and women earning full time salaries with benefits for the work, but volunteers compensated by stipends. Pendleton County Emergency Rescue, also volunteers, had personnel and units on the scenes as well.
All had to battle alternating high winds and frigid night temperatures, rapidly moving fire lines overwhelming established positions, and more. Pendleton County’s infrared drones helped to identify danger spots and nearby WHSV sent alerts based on their satellite imagery.
Citizens stepped up, as they do in West Virginia. They brought water and food to the Upper Tract Training Center for distribution to the exhausted men and women engaged in the various wildfire locations..
The danger was real and worse than most imagine. Rick Gillespie, Pendleton County emergency services coordinator, noted in a recent County Commission meeting there that blights and parasites had killed countless trees in the mountain forests while “junk trees” have also proliferated.
Dead hardwoods rot from the inside out, creating natural and surprisingly sturdy chimneys out of tall trees. Under the right conditions, flames shoot through the tubes into the tallest reaches of the trees and set them ablaze, where they are exposed to any high winds sweeping through.
Gillespie described seeing elements in these fires normally seen in more intense Western blazes, such as burning tree tops, “firenados,” and other marks of hotter and more dangerous events.
The British Army originally adopted the nickname “the Thin Red Line,” but that should apply to emergency responders as well. The backbone of West Virginia’s thin red line in most counties depends in part or entirely on units staffed by volunteers, many of whom have career and family obligations in addition to the duty to protect the community.
Fire and rescue in West Virginia, however, are seeing their red lines get thinner and thinner. Numbers of incoming volunteers have slowed to a trickle. The State of West Virginia set up a fund to help expand volunteer EMS units, but that was only funded for the first of five years. This year, local EMS did not get the help promised in the original legislation.
These outbreaks happened in Pendleton County, one of the most remote and sparsely populated counties in the state. These two weeks of hell, however, could pop up anywhere if conditions set the stage for it.
These units serve as the front lines of a battle to protect lives and property against the ravages of nature. They keep the flames from engulfing entire areas, destroying homes, killing those unaware of the fire’s presence or rapidity of movement.
They keep the scale of the disaster that hit Los Angeles from happening here, whether “here” is Pendleton County, Jackson, Marshall, McDowell, Harrison, Hardy, Morgan, or even Kanawha’s remote forests, hills, and hollers. They need the kind of support required to keep personnel and equipment at needed levels for this kind of massive response over a sustained period of time.
Despite all the challenges, not one person got hurt in these fires and not one structure was lost. That serves as a testament to the skill, dedication, and perseverance of these men and women, but no one should assume that their ranks replenish automatically.
Along with water and sewer, road maintenance, and law enforcement, there is no more important priority than shoring up the basics that every community relies on in case of emergency.
The West Virginia State Legislature needs to make permanent structures of support for these men and women one of its top priorities going into the next session. Very little else they consider has more importance than this.