Fire extinguishing idea isn't far-fetched
Relying on a swimming pool to put out a house fire may seem like a farfetched last resort in the calm of the Northwest suburbs.
But for Malibu, Cal., resident Mark Pozorski, that little backyard amenity carried all his hopes of making it through the recent wildfires that threatened his life and home.
Pozorski, who resisted evacuation, managed to escape disaster. But his home was the one on whose porch weary firefighters chose to camp for two nights during the fiery onslaught.
Unlike the complex dry hydrant system designed by Peter Mitchell, who lives outside of Schaumburg, Pozorski relied on a simple Honda WH20X pump to drain his pool if disaster struck.
He'd put together a system of hoses that could deliver the same pressure as a fire engine. The water in his pool would have been enough to keep this up for an hour.
A potential vulnerability of the pump is that it's gasoline-powered using a combustion engine. The heat of wildfires can become so extreme that combustion engines stop working, Pozorski said.
In such a situation, the engine can be moved indoors while still pumping water from the pool, where the user can shelter in scuba gear.
Next time -- and Pozorski, 52, is certain there will be a next time -- he'll also try to use a biodegradable gel that can be quickly applied to the outside of a house to make it more flame-resistant.
The reasons he goes to such trouble, rather than evacuating as most authorities would prefer, are many.
He'd tried to help friends save a house lost to 1993 wildfires, then watched seven years pass before they could rebuild.
Though it's generally assumed wildfires come in cycles about every decade, he enjoys the scenery and wildlife around his home too much to give it up for a few days of danger every 10 years.
"I don't propose that everybody do this or become a vigilante," he said.
Apart from the setup itself, which several of his neighbors have borrowed, a great amount of physical fitness is required.
He also doesn't recommend any preparations such as his for anyone who hasn't had firsthand experience of wildfires before. The shock alone of seeing them in person for the first time might be too much, he fears.
"It's bigger than you think," he warned grimly.
Police officers going door to door could only ask residents still on their property to evacuate or sign a waiver. But he heard reports of people going only as far as their mailboxes who were whisked away by authorities.
"If I'm not there when it starts, they're not going to let me in," he said of another limitation to his preparations.
The firefighters who came to his house were much more willing to weigh the abilities of those staying behind on a case-by-case basis. And in his neighborhood of 84 houses, he estimated that occupants of only four households did stay put.
When the firefighters saw his backyard pump and saw him wearing the same gear they were, they were inclined to trust his abilities, he said.
Likewise, if they would have told him the time had come to pack up and leave, their advice would have meant more to him than that of other authorities.