“You have a Dumpster fire.” These words are transmitted by emergency dispatchers to fire stations across the country every hour of every day. As a rule, these call for a single fire company response unless things are such that an above-average fire takes hold.

When one of these containers catches fire, it can produce a fair amount of combustion and a lot of work. What is sad is that all that work is mainly done to save nothing more than useless trash, trash of every description. Nobody wants it, so this chore becomes abrasive to firefighters who exist to save. As long as we slave to save, satisfaction is achieved. But when you bust your buns to extinguish every type of swill nobody wants, it becomes a dissatisfaction. I have experienced scores of dump fires and after you get it down and leave, tired, crummy and sore in the joints, no satisfaction exists of the type you feel after putting out a fire when you know you have saved life and property.

Trash fire variables

There were a limited number of these devices prior to the 1970s. But in the course of three decades, an extensive industry of commercial trash containers has evolved. They dot the rears of thousands of industrial, commercial and institutional properties coast to coast, border to border.

The first Dumpsters I ever saw were big ones associated with construction. In building or taking down a structure, a huge amount of almost useless debris accumulates around the site. To be able to toss it into a container and then haul it away makes it easier and cuts construction costs.

Realizing that the full-size trash bin could only be installed in limited areas left a lot of small businesses wanting for rubbish storage and removal, so smaller receptacles were produced. Nowadays, these containers have become a larger portion of our work.

The process of extinguishing is rarely a complex operation: You douse them. Sometimes you have to get into the debris that's in the box and pitch it out to get at the matter. When you pick that up, everyone is crummy except for the pump operator, and you hope the insides of his boots are soaked so he can enjoy some of your woes.

A trash bin of any size on fire is a mystery because the exact contents are not known. How do you know the load doesn't include pressurized containers? Even empty they present a hazard. Today, with thousands and thousands of items shipped, who knows what the mixture is going to be? For instance, take Styrofoam: It's widely used as packaging, but have you ever seen it burn? So as we look for the possibilities of danger from unknown contents, you might be confronted by a combination of items that have never met together before, making you the victim of a very hostile reaction.

Next is placement. The trash container is a convenience because its use is for disposal outside of a building. It can't be located too far from the building because the longer the distance to it, the more it negates the accommodation. It has to be picked up, so there needs to be room for the contractor's rig to get it in and out. Also, there's the property limitation. You can't put your Dumpster on someone else's property. It seems that those factors come before fire safety. Neither the businessman nor the contractor is thinking about fire or its ramifications. But we know about these matters well enough.

In the early stages of this report I did a bit of looking around the community to see if I could spot anything to justify my concern. I located a three-business structure and found six Dumpsters at the rear. They were of the smaller variety because of the dimension of the property. Three large ones would not have been feasible. What a fuel load. It's a good thing that the building and an exposure nearby were made of concrete block.

Another situation that shows that those not in our job line think differently than we do about fire and its problems occurred a few years ago in Dunkirk, N.Y. The city fathers decided that we should enter the field of recycling. Until a weekly pickup could be organized, it was decided to put temporary containers on the parking lots of city buildings. Four locations were chosen and each got three temporary drop boxes. One of the sites was a fire station, and the box that was placed closest to the building was for paper.

It didn't take many nights until the company was dispatched to a fire in their own parking lot. Guess what? Someone had fired up the combustible contents of the one most likely to burn. It was no contest for the company to put down, but not before the windows of the station were cracked from the heat. Furthermore, a furniture store adjacent took enough smoke as to damage its contents. This was proof that the fire factor of the rubbish collection business is not their first fear. It should be ours.

In regard to firefighting in trash bins, I will not speculate except to say that fire in the small container will require less work than its bigger brother. If you can use a can on a small one, it doesn't mean you can get away with that on his bigger brother, Moose. Just don't go in too low. Quick control in many cases is important. Remember, you are extinguishing rubbish being disposed of. It has no value.

Many years ago, one of my young sons in his early teens suggested that trash bins should be piped with small sprinkler heads attached at the top level, plumbed to a fire department fitting to which we could hook up our supply line to put the juice to it. A later suggestion came that rather than the heads, a perforated pipe at the top rim would spray water to cover the top level breaking the thermal column. This too would be supplied by a fire department connection.

The matter of bin placement needs constant observation. These items seem to grow out of the concrete overnight. Don't look for the problem of placement and questionable contents to go away or reduce themselves. The action we take or do not take to improve our lot is in our hands, so self-examination is in order. Whatever your action may be, don't wait until they all go up in smoke.

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Prior to his retirement, Donald L. Loeb served the Dunkirk (N.Y.) Fire Department as a volunteer firefighter, assistant chief and chief. His experience spans six decades of military and civilian firefighting, teaching, and writing.