When nine firefighters died in the Sofa Super Store fire in 2007, it seemed the entire fire service–and several government organizations–became focused on the operations of the Charleston Fire Department (CFD). That scrutiny, while necessary to address many of the deep-rooted problems that led to the tragic fire, was extremely challenging for the members of the department, each of whom was also trying to cope with their own emotions surrounding the loss of their brothers. Everyone had an opinion about the Sofa Super Store fire–from the average firefighter engaged in a kitchen-table conversation to the local media to the detailed, lengthy reports put together by various investigators and reviewers.
That, ultimately, is what led to the making of the new documentary, Charleston 9: The Ultimate Sacrifice. “CFD Chief Tom Carr told us, ‘Everyone else has been telling the story of the CFD. We’d like to tell our own story,’” says Dave Statter, who co-wrote and directed the film for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation (NFFF). The film was shown during a special screening at the Congressional Fire Services Institute annual dinner and seminars on Thursday; it will be available to the general public next week.
Following two days of initial filming, Statter became convinced that there was, indeed, a powerful story to tell–one that was not captured in the hundreds of reports and news accounts to date. He and his crew returned to Charleston for a week of filming, and were pleased to find that they were given unrestricted access to all members of the department.
“If there was one fault Tom Carr had, it was being transparent to a fault,” says Deputy Chief John Tippett, who like Carr was brought into the CFD’s command staff following the tragedy to help the department rebuild and recover. “So [in this film] you get the story direct from the eyes of those who lived the change.”
At just around 30 minutes in length, Charleston 9 is not long, but in that time it manages to convey two distinct messages.
The first is the enormous amount of change the department has absorbed in a short timeframe. CFD Battalion Chief Mark Davis notes that “Our name is still the same–everything else has changed.” And that change is depicted in every aspect of the department’s operations, from recruit classes who ring a bell at the end of each day to remind them of their successful training and the importance of going home to their families, to new equipment, to modern-day incident command, to a renewed focus on continual training. As one CFD firefighter notes, “I’m still coming to win, but I’m doing it in a smarter way.”
The second message is how central a figure Chief Tom Carr was in this transformation. Not long after being appointed chief, Carr was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and he succumbed to the disease in April. Carr took the job because “it seemed like a chance to do something worthwhile.” It was a bold move–“outsider” chiefs struggle in many departments, much less one as steeped in tradition as the CFD. But Carr had been born in the area, and although he didn’t consider himself a native, he quickly realized that his birthplace gained him some credibility–and he took advantage of that.
Rather than attempting to destroy the traditions of the CFD, Carr set about creating new tradition. “This will be a place known not for the Sofa Super Store fire, but for what came after,” he says in the film, which he was able to view shortly before his death. “He continued strengthening the department as Parkinson’s weakened his body,” the narrator of the film notes.
Admiration for Carr is echoed in nearly every interview in the film; it is clear that he provided a singular vision for the CFD’s recovery, and then worked tirelessly to make it happen, regardless of the many setbacks along the way, as well as his personal health struggles. As Tippett notes in the film, “You realize that if he can do it [with what he’s going through], I can do 10 times more.”
Former Charleston Chief Tom Carr Passes Away
Charleston Five Years Later: An Officer’s Perspective
And that, perhaps, is the most compelling message of the film. Subtitled “Lessons in leadership as a department recovers from tragedy,” the film leaves the impression that such radical change as was needed in Charleston simply would not have happened without Carr. It’s certainly not unheard of for fire chiefs to become legends, to leave a lasting influence long after they’re gone. But for an “outsider leader” to have such an impact in a few short years is truly remarkable.
It’s that inspiration that will continue to bring the department through the changes yet to come, as its members strive not to be remembered for the fire that killed nine firefighters, but rather as one of the top fire departments in the country.
