The Explosion
1983 Buffalo Blast
Killed Five Firefighters, Two Civilians and
Injured Many
MIKE LOMBARDO
MembersZone Contributor
This is by no means meant to be a
technical article. It is, instead, a
collection of impressions, memories and
feelings that I have about an event that
happened 19 years ago. I have never written
about it, but I think about it every single
day. With all the tactics and technology
that we are immersed in, we always have to
remember that this is the most human of
professions. This story deals with my human
side, the feelings of fear, love, sadness,
and family. You can certainly discount this
as the ramblings of a lunatic. I have after
all, been called and considered much worse.
I feel that I need to give you some
background on myself to help you understand
more of this story. I started life in the
Fifties and was 2 years old when my dad
died. My mom worked three jobs to feed four
kids. As a kid I would hang around the
firehouse near the apartment building where
I grew up. The firefighters there were good
to me. As an adult, I realize that a lot of
my values and lessons in life were learned
there. It is also interesting to realize
that this was in the days prior to "customer
service." The firefighters were just decent
people. The battalion chief in that house
was a newly promoted guy by the name of
Harvey Supple.
He was in the 7th Battalion only a couple
years before he went down to the busier 3rd
Battalion. He would invite me down to the
3rd, and I would ride all the time. This was
the late Sixties and there was tons of fire
duty. I went into the military at 18, and
Harvey would write to see how I was doing
and let me know what was going on at home in
Buffalo. Harvey was the closest thing to a
father I ever had. When I was appointed to
the fire department, Harvey was my battalion
chief and his brother Jack Supple was my
division chief who ran the city on his
shift.
This brings me to the night of December
27, 1983. I was a pretty new firefighter. At
20:23 hours, a full assignment was
dispatched to North Division & Grosvenor
streets. The three engines, two trucks,
rescue and 3rd Battalion were responding to
a report of a large propane tank leaking in
a building. Engine 32 arrived and reported
nothing showing, but they were talking to
some workmen from the four-story,
heavy-timber warehouse (approx. 50' x 100').
Truck 5, Engine 1 and BC Supple arrived
right behind E-32.
Thirty-seven seconds after the chief
announced his arrival, there was a
tremendous explosion. It completely leveled
the four-story building. It demolished many
buildings on four different blocks. It
seriously damaged buildings that were over a
half a mile away. The ensuing fireball
started buildings burning on a number of
streets. A large gothic church on the next
block had a huge section ripped out of it as
if a great hand carved out the middle.
A ten-story housing projects a couple
blocks away had every window broken and some
had even more damage. Engine 32 and Truck
5's firehouse, which was a half mile away or
so, had all its windows shattered. This is,
I'm sad to say, was just the property
damage. The explosion killed the five
members of Truck 5. Firefighters Mike
Austin, Mickey Catanzaro, Red Lickfeld, Tony
Waszkielewicz, and Matty Colpoys were killed
instantly. Two civilians were also killed,
neighbors of the warehouse who were in their
living room watching TV. Eleven firefighters
were injured. Several, including chief
Supple, were critically injured. Over 150
civilians were transported to hospitals for
injuries suffered in the explosion. Scores
more were treated at the scene.
The first report came from Truck 2. They
had gotten hung up at a snow bank a block
from the incident. Lt. Hamilton reported a
large explosion that "got the companies in
front of the building and the chief too."
The alarm office sent a second alarm. At the
same time, we heard 3rd Battalion Chief
Supple call for a 3rd alarm and all the
ambulances that they could send. He
continued to run the operation for 10
minutes until he was transported to the
hospital after turning over command to his
brother, Division Chief Jack Supple. Harvey
ran the fire for those 10 minutes with a
5-inch-long by 1?-inch- thick stake sticking
into his neck. He had a fractured collarbone
and fractured sternum and ended up getting
over 100 stitches to close his various
wounds.
We responded on the second alarm. The
fire eventually went to a fifth alarm and an
extra two trucks (15 engines, eight trucks,
two rescues). Upon our arrival, we found the
area filling with stunned civilians who were
trying to figure out what happened. Our
company came down Eagle Street and set up a
turret on the rubble to stop the fire that
was going on in the church. I jumped from
the pumper top with an old multiversal.
Firefighter Walter Jones ran with two
2?-inch lines after me. Our officer, Lt. Pat
Coghlan, and our driver, Bob Groulx, were
barely able to keep up with the hose Walt
was dragging. We then went forward and
started searching the rubble for trapped
firefighters. DC Supple had instructed
companies to come in with lines to aid in
the rescue. A major area of concentration
was Truck 5's rig which was a 100-foot
tiller. It had been blown across the street
into a row of houses.
It and the houses were now burning, the
chief's concern was that firefighters were
trapped under it. At this time firefighters
and civilian casualties were being taken to
the area hospitals. They were sent in almost
every conceivable vehicle, ambulances,
police cars, private cars, fire apparatus,
and even an animal-control vehicle
(dogcatcher's truck). One of the
firefighters killed was found immediately
and transported. Four of the five were
removed within 10 to 20 minutes of the
blast. The last man was found about three
hours into the operation. He had been buried
by a large amount of debris.
It is hard for me to relate in a concise
manner all the actions of that night. Being
a young firefighter and considering the
magnitude of the event, I am left with brief
recollections more than with a view of a
tactical operation. I remember that shortly
after my arrival, erroneous reports were
coming in of members being killed. I
remember an officer telling me that Mickey
Catanzaro was cut badly but okay, and that
he had seen him digging around Truck 5.
Mickey died instantly when the explosion
occurred. I remember digging under Engine 32
with Capt. Don McFeely and having blood fall
on me, and I remember praying to God that
when I turned over, there would not be a
body next to me or above me. There wasn't. I
remember seeing 30-year veteran,
tough-as-nails firefighters crying and
getting really, really scared.
I remember Firefighter Larry Dahn
carrying a woman out of a burning house,
returning and then carrying out the woman's
husband. I remember coming up to Engine 32
and seeing its roof blown off, laying upside
down next to it. The crosslays had been
blown out of the rig on to the roof of a
commercial building that was partially
collapsed.
I remember Capt. Larry Sullivan of Engine
1 and his driver Bob Cole being trapped in
the cab of the pumper and us using the jaws
to cut off the roof and get them out. It was
supposed to be Capt. Sullivan's last night
on the job. As Engine 1 arrived, his crew
said, "Stay in the rig; we got this, Cap." I
tried to help firefighters from Engine 1,
who were covered in blood from injuries.
They would walk away saying, "We had to get
the guys who were hurt." I remember seeing
DC Supple at about 02:00 on Jefferson Ave.
and him telling me that Harvey was alive but
that was the most he knew at the time.
I remember for a number of hours, a bunch
of us had formed a line to remove brick and
debris to uncover Mike Austin. It seemed
like we did that for a long time, and the
pile did not get smaller. As I said, Mike
was removed about 23:30. At that time the
chiefs had accounted for our men and all the
dead and injured had been transported. We
treated the main building now as a large
rubbish fire. At about 02:00, I tried to
call my wife. I thought she might have heard
about the incident. Unfortunately, all the
phone lines for blocks around were out. I
had no idea at that time what she was going
through.
At about 8:45 that evening, the news
about the tragedy started breaking on
evening TV. As terrible as it was, the
reports were worse. One report said that the
entire 3rd Battalion had been wiped out. A
scroll at the bottom of the screen during
the Sabres hockey game said 23 firefighters
were dead.
These reports had families and loved ones
frantic. Engine 19 was relocated to Engine
32's house during the fire. The crew had a
hard time, since the dinner of E-32 & T-5
was still on the table. The phone at the
firehouse was ringing with calls from family
of the crews. Engine 19 finally called the
alarm office and asked to be sent to the
fire or anywhere else. They were sent
shortly thereafter to the fire.
My wife called the firehouse where there
was no answer. She then tried all different
places to get info on my crew and me. She
was now in contact with the wives of the
other guys in my company. My wife is a RN
and at that time was a new nurse at Buffalo
General Hospital. After exhausting all
attempts through the FD, she called BGH's
emergency room. A nurse she knew told her
that there was a guy in the ER who had a big
mustache was about my size and was dead, and
that it could be me. She asked if Sandy
wanted to come to the hospital to take a
look. Sandy said she would wait for the FD
to call. (The real heroes are the ones at
home. I cannot imagine going through that.)
Unknown to us, this had become a big
story. All the local stations went to it
live for the rest of the night. At 11:30, it
was on Nightline. At about 04:00, we
returned to quarters and I called my wife.
We had a very tearful talk, and I told her I
would see her later. That morning she had to
work at the hospital. At morning report,
Sandy broke down when talk of the explosion
and the casualties came up. They let her go
home, and I picked her up and we went home
to our kids.
That night, I reported to work as the
brass and union started planning funerals.
That week was a blur as I attended the wakes
for our brothers. I would go to the
hospitals and check on Chief Supple and
other guys who were hurt. My wife ended up
taking care of Gary McAndrews, who was
critically hurt in the blast. On New Year's
Eve 1983, 12,000 firefighters from all over
the world came to Buffalo to honor our
brothers. We ended up having a couple guys
from out of town spend New Year's Day with
us that year. This had a profound effect on
many others and me. I have tried to go to
any funeral for a firefighter that I could
since then. It had effects that I did not
realize at the time. My Daughter was seven
years old at that time. She often points to
that week and all its events as a big reason
why, 13 years later, she joined the BFD. She
has seven years on now and is assigned to
Engine 31.
The men who died or were injured truly
were heroes, but they were also dads and
husbands and sons. They were little league
coaches, and guys working second jobs to
make ends meet. They weren't supermen but
they did super things. They cared enough
about others to give their all!
I still don't know what lessons I learned
or should have learned from this
catastrophe. But the important things from
this I know are these: Hug your wife and
kids every chance you get; thank the people
that have helped you get where you are (you
never know if you will get another chance);
have fun and enjoy yourself (it's not a
dress rehearsal). I am pretty sure there is
a return date stamped on the inside of your
forehead. Hug your wife and kids: Oh, I said
that one already.
Stay safe. |
