Retired Ohio Firefighter Cherishes His Memorabilia

Jan. 07--Mark DeVine calls it his "fire junk," but the term seems a bit dismissive for a collection that includes an actual fire engine.

The retired Columbus battalion chief's mail is delivered to an old alarm box in front of his North Side home. There are more of those in the backyard, as well as hydrants, some that stood for decades along city streets.

On his walls hang station alarm bells that sent generations of firefighters running. Downstairs, he has display cases and racks stuffed with the obvious and obscure. There are antique glass oddities called fire grenades, leather water buckets hauled by frantic residents in the 1800s, and hand-painted parade hats that are just as old and could fetch thousands of dollars at auction.

DeVine, 62, retired from the Columbus Division of Fire in 2011. He was chief of Battalion 3, the same position his father held when he retired in 1976. Combined, they gave more than 70 years of service to the division.

And now DeVine's stepson is a city firefighter. "He's not allowed to leave until we get 100 in," he said.

Retired Lt. Joseph Pishitelli, a friend and former division public-information officer, said the collection reflects DeVine's passion for firefighting.

"It was instilled by his father," said Pishitelli, 85.

Devine said, "I'm really glad who my daddy was."

Although intrigued by firefighting since childhood, he didn't start his collection until the late 1980s. He began with fire grenades -- colorful, bulbous glass bottles about the size of a softball that were filled with saltwater or chemicals and hurled at the flames.

"They were so stupid," he said, delighted. "Their effectiveness had to be just about nil."

DeVine has a later example of a fire grenade that functioned more like today's sprinklers. The device hung on a wall, and heat from a fire would release a small hammer. That smashed a glass globe filled with the fire suppressant carbon tetrachloride. In high heat, though, the chemical also produced phosgene, a poison gas used in World War I.

"It put out a fire, but you'd better not be in the same room with it, or you were in big trouble," DeVine said, as he stood beneath the still-armed device. "Big trouble."

DeVine has a particular affection for "old metal things," such as whale-oil firefighter lanterns and hand trumpets, which were used to amplify a chief's voice at a fire so his instructions could be heard.

Some collectors stick to one type of memorabilia, such as "fire marks" -- signs that were hung on homes to indicate that a home was insured and that firefighters would get paid for their efforts.

"If you didn't have one of those, they didn't put the fire out," DeVine said. "I'm sure it made a lot of people bitter, but I'm sure it sold a lot of insurance policies, too."

Columbus Fire Capt. Steve Heselden collects only fire-alarm boxes. But during a recent visit to DeVine's home, Heselden fell under his friend's spell while looking at newly acquired Columbus firefighter badges.

"Holy cow," Heselden said. "Wow. That is neat. I might have to get some of those."

DeVine collects a little of everything but focuses on American firefighting. Much of his buying and selling is done online these days, but he still travels each year to the bigger collectibles shows. As he fine-tunes his collection, he sells off the less-desirable items he has acquired along the way to help pay for the upgrades.

He acknowledges that the hobby is costly. Even a more-common fire grenade can sell for $100, and he has watched better-funded Americana collectors snatch up rarer items such as the ornate parade hats for $30,000 to $40,000. Although he can't compete with those buyers, he said he works especially hard to keep Columbus items here and will pay a premium to bring those that left back to central Ohio.

He said he'll eventually donate his city artifacts to the Central Ohio Fire Museum, on N. 4th Street Downtown.

He said he likes that firefighting at its core hasn't changed much. Firefighters still use hoses to put water on fire.

Hydrants around Columbus were used for 100 years, he said, and the antique hose nozzles in his collection would screw right onto today's hoses and work just fine.

"It's all so neat to me," DeVine said. "I just like the history of it all."

Firefighters are always joking that their stories would make "a hell of a book," DeVine said, but whenever a book is written, "none of us ever do it very well."

So his "fire junk" is his book. It provides visual cues that prompt stories about a career he retired from but will never leave.

During a recent tour that lasted hours, he talked about his 1927 Seagrave fire engine. It is in storage with the bulk of his collection, he said.

So, did he have more fire junk in storage than he had on display at the house?

Nodding, DeVine didn't say anything.

A lot more?

He nodded again, still silent.

Like, crazy-more?

"Stupid crazy," DeVine said, grinning like a kid at a parade as the fire engines roll by.

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