By Mary Duffy
Telluride Magazine, Summer 2003

The call came in at 4:45 [p.m.]," says Dave Erickson, First Assistant Chief for the Telluride Fire Department. "A passerby had seen smoke and called 911 on his cell phone." Erickson, a 19-year volunteer fire fighter, relates the chain of events that led the department to respond to an April 14, 2003, house fire in Ilium Valley. A general page went out to all firemen. The closest fire fighter to the scene was Jamey Schuler, who went directly to the site to relay a "size-up." He reported that the house was-in fire fighter jargon-"fully involved." After the 30-minute drive from the Telluride fire station, Erickson, his battalion and the first engine arrived on the scene. "The house was a total loss, and we were worried about the forest and the house next door." The fire had started when a 1,000-gallon propane tank rolled down a hill, broke a fitting and leaked into the house's basement. The gas, probably ignited by a hot water heater pilot, torched the house. Although the structure burnt to the ground, the fire was contained. No one was hurt, and a second propane tank was kept from involvement. Erickson, who dreamed of being a fireman ever since he watched The Beaver visit his neighborhood firehouse on TV, attributes the seamless response to training, equipment and his fellow fire fighters. The same reward that attracted men to join the department 125 years ago remains at the heart of today's organization: volunteerism and camaraderie.

The Fire That Started It All

"Telluride's first fire department was probably little more than an organized bucket brigade," says retired fire fighter Gary Bennett. Telluride's volunteer fire department was established 125 years ago, in the same year the 80-acre town site of Columbia (later Telluride) was officially located and plotted. Shortly thereafter, the commissioners decided that Columbia should house the county seat and a courthouse was built on the southeast corner of Fir Street and Colorado Avenue (see photo, page 66). The hook and ladder building, or fire station, was in the same block. On January 13, or March 9, 1887-depending on which version of history you believe-fire destroyed that courthouse and almost every other building on the block. The fledgling mining town, constructed of log cabins, miners' clapboard shacks and wood-framed structures-all heated by wood stoves-was prime for fire. Bennett, who served the department from 1967 to 1992, points out that structural fires in the early days often engulfed city blocks because of shared bearing walls. "There was no drywall to slow fire spread," says Bennett. "There were no fire stops [horizontal studs] in the old 'balloon' framed buildings, so the walls acted like chimneys." Nothing built prior to 1882 survived those early years. In response to the courthouse fire, Telluride city officials had eight fire hydrants in operation by the summer of 1887; seven years later there were 38, and all of town had electricity.
The fire hydrants allowed the bucket brigade to upgrade a hose-cart: a two-wheeled cart, pulled by a crew of eight to ten men, that carried a 400- to 500-foot length of hose. The firemen ran the cart from the fire station to the hydrant closest to the fire, attached the hose and drug the nozzle into action.
For decades, fire departments from regional towns would hold hose-cart races. The competitions were so popular that Richard and Suzanne Fetter described them in their book, Telluride: From Pick to Powder, by saying, "One of the popular events was the hose-cart race where men would strap themselves into traces and strain through a course lined by cheering crowds that placed heavy bets on the outcome." The high-altitude trained Telluride fire department was often victorious.

Tragedy Warrants a New Truck

In 1896, flush with capital from booming mining exploits, city officials constructed a fire station behind Town Hall off Fir Street. It was equipped with two hose-carts and one hook and ladder wagon. A 50-foot hose drying tower was also erected to empty and dry the delicate rubber-lined, cotton-jacketed hoses before they were respooled onto the carts. An alarm bell was hung in the tower atop Town Hall. In 1899, the local paper berated the town for making the firemen run all the way to Town Hall to sound the alarm: "It is a hard run, and the man is lucky when he reaches the bell if he retains strength to ring an alarm." Subsequently, several bell towers were erected around town.
As Telluride grew, more resources were needed to fight fires, and the hose-carts became supplemented with horse-drawn wagons. The team of Beachy and Barney were made famous by a tragedy that resulted from their efforts. On July 24, 1920, a fire broke loose in the Smuggler-Union Mill east of Telluride. Firemen at the station's livery harnessed the horses, and driver Lee Long showed up just in time to take the reins. But the team's reins had not been properly secured, and Long lost control of the wagon as the horses raced down Fir Street. At a rail crossing, the horses bolted through a narrow opening between two freight cars. They made it across, but a wheel caught the corner of a car, and Long was thrown forward and dragged under the heavy steel-wheeled wagon. His skull was crushed, and he died at the scene. Remarkably, that was the only death of a fireman recorded in the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department's 125-year history.
Unfortunately, the Smuggler-Union mill burned to the ground, but the tragedy helped city officials realize the need for more modern equipment. Mining kingpin Bulkeley Wells, on behalf of the Smuggler-Union, offered $2,000 toward the purchase of a motorized fire truck. Shortly thereafter, fire truck No. 1, a 1921 la France hose bed on a White Motor Company truck, was purchased for $5,000.
The truck served the department until a 1940 Ford, "Little Red," was bought to replace it. Little Red operated until the mid-1960s when the county voted to create a fire district and enact mill levies to raise money for the organization. A new fire station was built to the east of Town Hall and modern equipment was purchased. "Prior to 1967," recalls Bennett, "there wasn't much." Although retired, Little Red still makes an annual appearance in the Fourth of July Parade.

Bombs Bursting in Air

No story about the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department would be complete without the mention of the annual Fourth of July celebration. No known records announce the first Independence Day celebration in Telluride, but a 1887 photograph shows a parade. The morning opened with a bang: Traditionally, the firemen exploded a case of dynamite at a 6 a.m., shaking every structure in town. The parade down main street, led by a racing hose-cart team and a band, started the festivities. Staged hose fights followed, along with horse races, rodeos and baseball games, depending on the era. Hand drilling (drilling the deepest hole into a rock in 15 minutes), hand mucking (shoveling), and tug-of-wars were all favorite events. In later years, the ladies were included with the addition of a rolling-pin toss, a bread-slicing contest (cutting the most slices out of a loaf of bread), and a ladies' footrace. As the celebration progressed, food, drink and conversation were offered up, along with sack races, cracker-eating contests and a nickel grab for the kids. When darkness fell, the firemen launched the highlight of the day: fireworks from the aptly named Firecracker Hill in Town Park. All anyone could hope for after the revelry was that no fire alarm sounded in the ensuing hours.

A Truly Modern Institution

Built in 1883 as a school for the newly formed San Miguel County School District, the annex behind Town Hall-one of the few structures to survive the fires of that first decade of incorporation-served as the firehouse for over 60 years. In 1987, a new station was built to the east of Town Hall, and has been remodeled and enlarged in the last ten years.

Today, the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department, its Mountain Village sub-station, the Placerville Volunteer Fire Department and Emergency Medical Services fall under the umbrella of the Telluride Fire Protection District, which was created in 1964. The fire district's three departments are responsible for protecting a 350-square mile area that extends north to the top of Dallas Divide, halfway up Norwood Hill to the west, to the top of Lizard Head Pass to the south and east to Bridal Veil Falls. The three stations house two ladder trucks, four pumpers (engines), a rescue truck for responding to automobile accidents, two brush rigs for fighting wildfires, three tenders for hauling water, four ambulances and various first-response vehicles. Eight paid employees now manage the finances, station, equipment, training and fire-code enforcement for the district. "We supply the manpower," says James "Catfish" Hunter, Chief of the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department. Twenty-three fire fighterss volunteer in Telluride, 19 in Mountain Village and 20 in Placerville. Not only has the force grown from its 40 or so fire fighters of the early years, but three women volunteers have joined the squad. "The biggest improvements are in equipment, training and communication," says Chief Hunter. "In the old days, the siren went off, and you had no idea what you were responding to or where you were going." Modern pagers and dispatch systems have changed all that.
Of his early years with the department, Bennett says, "There wasn't much training, and there was very little personal protection gear." Until the '60s, a fireman's turnout gear consisted of rubber raincoats and plastic helmets. Now, a fireman's "personal protection equipment" consists of pants, jacket and insulated gloves made of fire- and heat-resistant Nomex, steel-shank boots, a space-age helmet complete with fire-proof liner and a face shield: about $2,000 worth of gear. "Add a pager at $500, and it costs $2,500 to outfit one fireman," says Chief Hunter. "Our motto: safety first."

Battling the Flame

The expanded department mirrors the dramatic growth in the Telluride region, not only in the number of buildings, but in their size. If not for the fire department, two fires in the early 1990s-the drugstore building on Telluride's main street and the Gold King Condominiums, 2.5 miles west of town-could have proved the biggest catastrophes of Telluride's recent history.
Both fires were "fully involved" when fire fighters arrived on the scene. In both cases, equipment and training paid off: The fires were prevented from spreading, and there were no deaths or serious injuries. This was particularly impressive in the drugstore fire where a large crowd had gathered to watch the blaze and a backdraft explosion occurred. In the late 1800s, the entire block would have burned to the ground. Last year alone, the volunteers of the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department responded to 340 fires.

Roll Call

The register of the Telluride Volunteer Fire Department is as impressive as its history. The first documented roll call from April 7, 1883, has in attendance 58 men, including Charles Painter, Telluride's first mayor, county clerk and publisher of the first newspaper, The Journal; Oris C. Thomas, the town's first treasurer; county sheriff Cal Rutan; prominent merchant W. B. Van Atta; Frank D. Margowski, who staked the Liberty Bell claim 1883; and lawyer and manager of L. L. Nunn's Telluride Light Company, S. A. Fitzgerald.
"A recent community survey said that the most-revered community service was the fire department," comments Erickson. Proud to be part of the fellowship that has served this community for 125 years, Erickson says, "I want to see my picture on the wall next to those other old farts."