Gas Truck Fire
From James Donahue’s Journal
A gasoline distribution business had a storage facility built along the highway going south from Sandusky. It consisted of at least two large storage tanks and a pumping station set back far enough from the road that they were hardly noticed by passing drivers. It was located, however, about a half mile from where we lived on Hale Road.
One day the police scanner in my office blared the news that there was a large gasoline tank fire south of town. At that same moment the local fire siren sounded and volunteers from all over town were racing to the fire hall to board the trucks and race to the scene. I grabbed my camera and got there before they did. The smoke and fire could be seen from miles away.
The police already had the highway blocked but I got lucky. The officer at the blockade knew me and waved me through, so I was able to get close enough to snap some spectacular photographs of the fire. What had happened was that a gasoline tanker truck had been loading fuel. The operator carelessly let the gasoline overflow and it ignited when it hit the hot exhaust pipe at the rear of the truck. It was the truck that was burning, but it was so close to the two large storage tanks that it was feared the heat would ignite them, and that they would explode.
While I was standing there taking pictures and watching the local fire fighters pour water on the big tanks, keeping them cooled, the police were busy ordering a general evacuation of all of the homes in about a mile wide radius.
I hung around long enough to talk to the driver of the truck, get all the details I needed for my story, and then return to the office to get my film in the mail and wait for further developments before writing my story.
The truck burned for hours before all the fuel in it was gone and the fire burned itself out. Fortunately the large tanks were equipped with special pressure relief valves and the constant barrage of water from the fire trucks prevented them from going up too. We all were breathing a little easier when they finally could get close enough to that burning truck to tow it away from those tanks.
Had they exploded they probably would have taken the entire town’s fire department, several local police officers and at least one bold reporter with them. My picture made a dramatic image on our front page the following day.
Those were the good old days when police and reporters worked together on events like that and the mail moved film on the 50-mile trip from Sandusky to Port Huron overnight.
From James Donahue’s Journal
A gasoline distribution business had a storage facility built along the highway going south from Sandusky. It consisted of at least two large storage tanks and a pumping station set back far enough from the road that they were hardly noticed by passing drivers. It was located, however, about a half mile from where we lived on Hale Road.
One day the police scanner in my office blared the news that there was a large gasoline tank fire south of town. At that same moment the local fire siren sounded and volunteers from all over town were racing to the fire hall to board the trucks and race to the scene. I grabbed my camera and got there before they did. The smoke and fire could be seen from miles away.
The police already had the highway blocked but I got lucky. The officer at the blockade knew me and waved me through, so I was able to get close enough to snap some spectacular photographs of the fire. What had happened was that a gasoline tanker truck had been loading fuel. The operator carelessly let the gasoline overflow and it ignited when it hit the hot exhaust pipe at the rear of the truck. It was the truck that was burning, but it was so close to the two large storage tanks that it was feared the heat would ignite them, and that they would explode.
While I was standing there taking pictures and watching the local fire fighters pour water on the big tanks, keeping them cooled, the police were busy ordering a general evacuation of all of the homes in about a mile wide radius.
I hung around long enough to talk to the driver of the truck, get all the details I needed for my story, and then return to the office to get my film in the mail and wait for further developments before writing my story.
The truck burned for hours before all the fuel in it was gone and the fire burned itself out. Fortunately the large tanks were equipped with special pressure relief valves and the constant barrage of water from the fire trucks prevented them from going up too. We all were breathing a little easier when they finally could get close enough to that burning truck to tow it away from those tanks.
Had they exploded they probably would have taken the entire town’s fire department, several local police officers and at least one bold reporter with them. My picture made a dramatic image on our front page the following day.
Those were the good old days when police and reporters worked together on events like that and the mail moved film on the 50-mile trip from Sandusky to Port Huron overnight.