Digital Extra: The Station Fire

Within minutes, a West Warwick rescue technician calls for a warning to be sent to area hospitals, and a short time later Fire Chief Charles D. Hall declares a "mass casualty incident."

01:00 AM EDT on Tuesday, August 3, 2004

BY ZACHARY R. MIDER
Journal Staff Writer

The call goes out to all four West Warwick fire stations -- four engines, a tower/ladder truck, and a supervisor's vehicle: "Respond to The Station on Cowesett Avenue, for a report of a fire. . . Police are on scene reporting this fire at this time, 23:10."

As Capt. James Theroux, supervisor of the 13 firefighters on duty that night, rushes to the scene from Fire Department headquarters in Arctic, a dispatcher gives him some grim news:

"I have a report of a female trapped in the female bathroom there also," he says. That is Bridget Sanetti, a 25-year-old woman who makes a desperate, and futile, 911 call when she realizes she cannot reach an exit.

Three minutes after dispatch, Engine 4 from the Crompton station pulls up in front of the club. "Heavy fire showing," reports one member of the engine company.

Theroux arrives moments later. The horror is audible even when the firefighters on scene have nothing to say; in the background of their radio calls are the screams of a frightened crowd. Theroux asks for more trucks from neighboring communities.

An EMT on one of West Warwick's rescue trucks senses the scale of the challenge ahead of him: "Advise Kent County [Hospital] we got multiple victims. We're gonna try to spread 'em between their facility and Rhode Island. We're looking at upwards of 50 to 75. We're transporting at least 10 at this time, five critical."

Fire Chief Charles D. Hall is practicing with his department's hockey team when the call comes in. He arrives six minutes later. On the radio, his first command is to declare a "mass casualty incident," leading a central dispatch center in Cranston to call up and coordinate fire and rescue apparatus from all over the state and its neighbors.

"I'm going to need at least 15 rescues," Hall says, before ordering all off-duty firefighters to report for duty. "I need as much manpower as I can get here."

While some firefighters train hoses on the raging fire, others gather at the front entrance, where dozens of club patrons lay wedged in a pile. As firefighters struggle to free them one by one, the heat bakes their faces. The badly burned victims are freed slowly, one by one.

There is a setback when a section of the roof collapses, striking a firefighter. Chief Hall orders his men out of the building at 12:16, after the fire has raged for more than an hour.

Although the firefighters return and pull more people out, the chances of finding survivors inside the building are slim. Fire officials check to make sure their men are accounted for. There is a frantic search for one West Warwick firefighter, who turns out to have been sent to South County Hospital to be treated for smoke inhalation.

Still ahead is the grim task of counting the bodies.

Police officers and fire officials discuss opening the West Warwick Civic Center to use as a temporary morgue. The police begin blocking off the windows and setting up a system to keep track of the bodies, although the building is never used.

As more and more people see the tragedy unfold on TV, they call the Police and Fire Departments, offering coffee, doughnuts, water, anything they can think of.

"I justed watched on the news about The Station," one caller says. "Me and my girlfriend are nurses, and we're wondering if we should take a ride up, because we're right around the corner and you need help?"

Dispatcher Tanya Nieblas is in no position to turn them away: "Yes, absolutely," she says.