Tragedy In Philadelphia

For all the year's closing activity, though, a brief "inch and three-quarter job" on Christmas Eve garnered nationwide headlines and dominated television screens the world over. A fire at the nation's oldest zoo killed 23 inhabitants. It took only a half-hour to bring the blaze under control but contentions that the tragedy could have been averted haunted the city.

The Philadelphia Zoo is home to 1,500 inhabitants and sits on 42-acres overlooking the Schuylkill River. The popular World of Primates attraction allowed gorillas, orangutans, gibbons and lemurs to experience a natural habitat. An adjoining one-story modern brick building lent visitors an up-close view of the primates. Inside the 200-by-30-foot structure were three separate living quarters divided by two breezeways with large glass viewing areas.

At around 10 P.M. on Dec. 23, two security officers smelled smoke in the zoo but they believed it to be coming from nearby train yards. Over two hours later they saw the flames shooting from the primate building.

Notification was delayed because the officers did not know the accompanying access number to enter 911 on their cellular phone. There was no central alarm monitoring station.

The Philadelphia Fire Department responded with a "full box" assignment of four engines, two ladders and two battalion chiefs at 12:45 A.M. Pulling inside the zoo grounds, Engine 44 Lieutenant James Mullin saw heavy fire coming from the north breezeway and told his crew to pull a 1 3/4-inch attack line.

"We had a pretty good fire with the ceiling contents and ventilation ducts falling down," Mullin said.

Pulling in the gate a minute later, Battalion 11 Chief John McGuire placed second-due Engine 16 into service. That crew pulled another attack line from Engine 44, which was hooked up to a hydrant opposite the fire building. The Discovery House, another primate building which was connected underground to the fire building, and a fast-food restaurant were the primary exposures.

From regular zoo tours, McGuire was aware of a policy for animals to be "locked down" each night. Though security officers confirmed the animals were in their cages, McGuire was still concerned.

"You just never know in this business," he said a pleasurable attraction during the day can become an ominous place on a dark and very cold December night.

Advancing the attack line into the breezeway, Mullin was unaware of the building's occupancy. In the smoke a firefighter hollered, "This is the gorilla house," but Mullin recalled, "I thought it was a joke."

McGuire needed zoo curators and confirmed with security that they were notified. Firefighters were making quick work of the fire. It involved utility pipes, duct work and the wooden ceiling. Concerned about extension into the living areas, crews could have easily forced the doors but McGuire held them in check.

"I was concerned over what was behind them," he said. "You couldn't see anything through the windows."

As members of Ladder 6 climbed to the roof for ventilation, McGuire pondered what might await them "I wondered whether we might have animals climbing out." He again directed security to contact the curators as crews began working on the skylights. Hoselines were shut down briefly when ceiling wires began arcing but a zoo maintenance engineer cut power to the building.

The arrival of the primate curator offered the first clue that this fire had special significance. Because of the daily relationship with his charges, the man was in a state of shock. "He was quite agitated and very eager to check on the animals," McGuire said.

This was his family. Said McGuire, "He was very upset and acted like we were intruding." The chief wasn't eager to intrude at all. The idea of entering a darkened wild animal lair was not on his list of favorable experiences. McGuire tried to calm the curator by explaining that firefighters needed to extinguish the fire and address the arcing problem just above the door to the living quarters.

"We were just there to help," the chief said, "but he was quite disturbed over our presence." McGuire gave the order to proceed and he joined the curator at the door. The chief tensely inched into the hallway, not knowing what to expect as reason fought to overcome his imagination. Above them was a smoke detector; however, there were none in the breezeway where the fire originated. Other tripping detectors set off warning lights on a panel in the basement of the adjoining Discovery House. No one could have seen it anyway since a door concealed it inside a cabinet.

The family of primates that Philadelphia had grown up with was gone. John, the 28-year-old patriarch, had his nose pressed against the bottom of his cage as if he was aware of what was happening and fighting to get out. The others apparently died in their sleep. In the middle of the building the Bornean orangutans lay motionless on the blackened soot their forms etched onto the yellow floor when they were removed a few hours later. The ventilation system even carried the killing smoke to living quarters at the far end of the structure, some 150 feet away.

Determining The Cause

Fire investigators declared the blaze accidental, a result of an electrical breakdown in heat trace cable wrapped around utility pipes. The 1996 National Electrical Code, Sections 426 and 427, requires ground fault equipment protection on each heating cable branch circuit but this was not a requirement during construction of the $6 million exhibit in 1985. The Department of Licenses & Inspections stated there were no violations to city codes.

According to Phila-delphia Chief Fire Marshal Nathaniel Carr, the absence of dampers from the living area ducts allowed smoke to overcome the victims. Detectors inside other ventilation ducts tripped dampers, shut down fans and prevented smoke from affecting primates in the Discovery House.

The combined failure of an audible alarm system (a horn on the snow-covered roof of the Discovery House apparently failed to sound), lax security and the fact that the animals had no chance of escape caused a media deluge. Throughout the metropolitan area people grieved over the primates' sad fate. A Remembrance Gallery was set up near the charred building to assist visitors in handling the loss. Many gazed at photos, then walked away crying, overcome with emotion. In a video presentation Samarinda, the red orangutan with a quizzical, bell-shaped face stared once again at her admirers. Eleven-month-old Maandazi was described as "17 precocious pounds." Kola was described as a tomboy who stuck her tongue out to catch drops of rainwater.

Weeks of finger-pointing ensued. The president of the zoo cried on the 6 o'clock news as he recounted telling his son about the death of his treasured friends. The security officers were fired but zoo officials acknowledged that many things contributed to the Christmas Eve tragedy.

Philadelphia Fire Commissioner Harold Hairston said he found the emotional interest understandable but still odd, considering the human fire toll that strikes large cities.

"It was a tragedy but as fire commissioner I have priorities," he said. "The first is the death of a firefighter. The second is the death of a civilian."

Mullin's son asked his father whether he saw the animals. "I told him I felt sad," Mullin recalled, "but we see people dead all the time."

Historic Incidents

While this was the first major fire tragedy involving a zoo, incidents are not uncommon. In January 1995, a boiler malfunction at the St. Louis Zoo's Bird House caused the deaths of 13 exotic birds. At the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha, NE, stray dogs barking outside a structure housing kangaroo-like wallabies caused them to panic, suffering crushing injuries that were fatal to 23.

Hurricane Andrew in 1992 proved fatal to many inhabitants of Miami's Metro Zoo. Several years later, a brushfire scorched 70 acres of zoo property but did not endanger any animals. A blast of winter wind at New York City's Bronx Zoo in 1995 collapsed a structure housing a colony of rare birds, allowing them to escape.

Tips For Pre-Planning At A Zoo

When pre-planning zoo responses, many fire commanders key on large people-drawing areas like monorails. Philadelphia's other major zoo incident occurred in 1988, when a one-alarm fire destroyed several cars on its elevated system.

The San Diego Zoo's aerial tram and five-story Tree House Restaurant get special attention, according to Battalion Chief Thomas Clark."We sectorize the property with pre-planned meeting points with zoo personnel," Clark said.

Zoo incidents present challenges different from those firefighters normally face. Consider these points when drawing up a pre-plan:

• Regular tours and identifying hazards are important. By sectoring the zoo, responders can determine the best entrance for the incident and whether the accesses can accommodate apparatus.
• Is water supply sufficient and how difficult is it to stretch multiple supply lines through hilly, irregularly shaped exhibit areas?
• A new trend in zoo design may put firefighters in more danger, especially in mild climates where open, more habitat-natural areas are constructed. If the zoo is open, animals will be in these recreation areas. Taking shortcuts in a zoo is a no-no. Electric trip wires are common to restrict animals from wandering outside their exhibit area.
• Is staff on site to assist you and if not, how soon will they arrive? Commanders should keep their first point-of-contact person (security) at their side should problems arise.
• Sensitivity is a primary factor in handling a fire involving animals but commanders should know where to draw the line and avoid extending personnel in unsafe conditions. Philadelphia Fire Commissioner Harold Hairston declined a zoo request for firefighters to assist in removing the primates. "I didn't think it was our job," he said.

The Philadelphia Fire Department has offered an outreach plan (upgrading training, inspection, refining staff emergency procedures) for zoo personnel which debuted successfully at the Philadelphia Museum of Art prior to the fire. It's an extension of the normal help offered by the Fire Prevention Division, which also seized an emotional opportunity in the Remembrance Gallery by offering fire prevention materials and home fire safety checklists.

Joseph Louderback