In Chaos, Firefighters Become Masters of Risk

Fire sneaked into vents on the roof, and firefighters outside saw flames rising 15 to 20 feet in the air. The 134-year-old building, with a ceiling of plywood and tar paper and covered with slate on top, was like "a Roman candle," Shymansky said.

After about 15 minutes of battle, the air horn sounded, ordering firefighters to evacuate. Battalion Chief Roy Ridgeway, the highest-ranking officer on the scene, decided that the risk of a roof collapse was too great.

The strategy turned from offensive to defensive, with firefighters hoisted on 110-foot ladders outside blasting more than 3,000 gallons of water a minute from the trucks onto the building.

The downside was that fighting a blaze from within is what most firefighters live for.

"Our firefighters and EMTs want to be inside. They want to be hitting the fire head-on," said Assistant Fire Chief Lawrence Schultz. "It's difficult for them to retreat."

Schultz, a 22-year veteran, had been awakened by a phone call when the blaze was upgraded to two-alarm status, and he listened to emergency radio transmissions as he drove along the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. Fighting fires is a calculated risk, and when he saw flames leaping out of the vents as he approached the scene, he was "very, very pleased" with Ridgeway's decision to evacuate.

After 2 1/2 hours, Schultz declared the fire under control. Authorities said electrical problems caused the fire.

But hot spots continued to flare up more than eight hours later, as Schultz and Rubin, whose appointment wouldn't even be confirmed until the next day, stood before television cameras at noon at department headquarters to talk about something else entirely: that two members of the department involved in the Rosenbaum case had been disciplined.

The news conference had just ended when Schultz jumped into his red Ford Crown Victoria and headed for Wisconsin Avenue and R Street NW. A fire at the Georgetown library had become a two-alarmer.

That's when Truck 12 barreled out of the Tenleytown station and raced south along Wisconsin. Sgt. Theodore Robinson saw thick black smoke on the horizon. The dark color signaled to him that the fire was blazing and had not been hit with significant amounts of water.

"I told everybody, 'Get ready. It's off,' " Robinson said. The description tells firefighters that the blaze is a big one.

Robinson's five-member crew that day was an RIT, or a rapid intervention team, which helps get firefighters out of imminent danger.