In October 2006, western New York was hit by an unprecedented snowstorm aptly dubbed the “October Surprise Snowstorm.” The Buffalo area is known for its winter snow blasts and its inhabitants have grown accustomed to dealing with all that such storms bring. However, the October Surprise Storm was very different from traditional winter storms. Although it was no Hurricane Katrina, it evolved into a full-blown disaster–one that temporarily crippled the area, took 15 lives and caused injury to about 400 people. It also transformed our job as truckies into one of street cleaners and tree-cutters due to the large amount of debris that littered the streets.
An Early, Relentless Snow
On the morning of Oct. 12, 2006, my truck company was performing some aerial training in our district. From 75 feet up in our bucket we noticed a dark and ominous stormfront moving across Lake Erie toward our area. Soon the temperature started to drop rapidly and the wind picked up. We decided to bed our aerial and return to quarters. Before we could get the aerial down to its cradle a cold and stinging rain started to pelt us. Rain soon turned to hail then to sleet and eventually to snow.
By shift change at 1700 HRS several inches of heavy wet snow had fallen and it was still coming down. While making my way home I realized why this snowstorm would have a much greater impact than our normal snowstorms: Most years leaves fall before the snow arrives. Unfortunately, this snowstorm arrived so early that both leaves and snow occupied the same tree branches. As a result, tree-lined streets were now gauntlets of falling tree parts, causing drivers to swerve around fallen debris. In addition, the wet snow stuck to overhead power cable and phone wires.
Once I arrived home, I used my scanner to monitor the fire traffic in Buffalo, which was growing by leaps and bounds. To make matters worse, two hours later the power went out. As I hustled to connect my generator, I saw that a nearby street still had power. I stared with envy just as a lightning bolt struck the pole-mounted transformer, lighting it bright orange and plunging the street into darkness.
At midnight, as I reluctantly fired up my snow-blower, I finally had to admit we were experiencing a full-blown snowstorm. Despite the time, the neighborhood was active with people shaking snow off sagging trees, shrubs and other vegetation unprepared for winter. It was quiet and dark, courtesy of the power outage that eventually spread to more than 380,000 homes and businesses. Throughout the night, the eerie silence was frequently broken by the sound of trees snapping and hitting the ground. What noise we did hear was not promising, as it became difficult to distinguish thunder from popping pole-mounted electrical transformers.
State of Emergency
By sunrise, it was clear that schools and probably everything else with the exception of emergency services would be closed. My neighborhood is fairly new and doesn’t contain many large trees. This, coupled with the fact that our subdivision’s wires are located underground, meant we didn’t get hit as hard as some areas.
After venturing outside and seeing the devastation, I wondered how I was going to get to work. I had about eight hours to figure it out. A battery-operated radio alerted us to the fact that we were now operating in a state of emergency, so I went out to make a closer assessment of the situation.
As I slowly made my way to the station, I could see the far-reaching effects of the storm. Broken-off sections of trees and electrical poles dangled above barely passable roadways. Traffic signals were out, gas stations and stores were closed; the area was virtually shut down. Without power, nothing functions, including gas pumps, coolers and cash registers.
I arrived at my firehouse well before shift change. There were many more cars in the parking lot than normal and, oddly, a fire department ambulance from a neighboring county was there too. A generator perched by a cellar window indicated that we, too, were without power.
The station was cold and dark but buzzing with activity. Our minimum crew size had been increased from four to five and several fire companies had moved into the city as mutual aid to help with the thousands of calls we were now fielding. The off-going lieutenant briefed me about everything they had been doing, including the fact that the night crew had gone to four working fires.
Immediately after throwing my turnout gear on the rig, we had our first run of the night, and the calls just kept coming. Most calls were downed-wire related; however, we did have a second alarm for an occupied one-story wood-frame home with exposures.
Working around the fireground was treacherous. We had to climb over downed trees and through deep snow with our ground ladders and other tools in tow. It was no easier for the engine crews to pull hose, and the closest hydrant was buried under a mix of snow and tangled tree branches. We picked up from the fire after about 90 minutes.
Because of downed trees and phone, cable and electric lines, any roadway travel was difficult, if not impossible. The problem was even more challenging for fire apparatus, especially the aerials, because low-hanging wires and branches compromised their maneuverability. As such, firefighters used pike poles to push up hanging phone and cable wires so the apparatus could “limbo” under them. Even with such precautions it was normal to arrive at quarters with numerous sections of tree limbs on our rig and a bundle of dead wires trailing behind us like a kite tail.
Additionally, when dispatched to an emergency, crews often snaked their way down dark streets only to be halted by obstructions on or above the road. This would force the crew to backtrack through the very obstacles just traversed, only now in reverse. It may have been possible to turn around a Chevette, but the average residential side street doesn’t allow a piece of fire apparatus to conduct a three-point turn.
Cut Teams Get to Work
In order for our city to get up and running again, Mike Lombardo, our outside-the-box-thinking commissioner, decided firefighters would have to help clear the streets using the same techniques they use when venting roofs: cutting our way through the problem. In response, the fire department, in cooperation with our public works department, soon organized what became known as “cut teams.”
We quickly acquired several STIHL Farm Boss saws from a local supplier and converted our surplus ventilation saws for tree-cutting duty. This required simply removing the specialized ventilation chains that we run with and replacing them with standard tree-cutting chains. Additionally, three four-door fire department pickups housed around the city were brought to our headquarters and outfitted with chainsaws and other related materials and supplies. Our headquarters was also the location of our Emergency Operations Center where one could find representatives from all agencies involved in the emergency.
Off-duty fire personnel were brought in so we could operate with an average of three crews of four during daylight hours. This was a first for me and probably everyone else so we basically developed the guidelines as we went. Our main goal was to get out into the streets and help anyone who needed it, which is pretty much what we want to do every day. Our specific goals were to remove hazards on the streets and clear the streets enough to allow fire apparatus to get through. To accomplish this, our Emergency Operations Center directed us to certain sections of the city where we would systematically wind our way up and down each street clearing the way.
As might be expected, we did encounter some problems. For one, not everyone had the same level of experience using saws. And even if people had experience using the saws on roofs, cutting large sections of trees presented very different conditions. Fortunately, on-the-job training quickly transformed truckies into tree-cutters. Let’s review some of the issues we faced on the cut teams:
Kickback: Linear kickback occurs when the chain is buried in the material while cutting and the material on either side of the cut closes onto the bar and chain. This will usually trap the saw’s bar in the material and can also push the saw into the operator. Although linear kickback sometimes occurs while venting roofs, it’s far more likely when cutting tree trunks, limbs and branches, because it can be more difficult to determine the stresses and strains on limbs. Example: When you’re cutting a downed limb on the top, you think the cut will open up and the material will simply drop down. You believe you’re cutting beyond the fulcrum point. As you proceed, the cut suddenly closes onto your saw because there’s downward pressure on the limb in the spot you were cutting. You had been making your cut in an area before the fulcrum point. The natural tendency is to try to pull the trapped saw out. The correct procedure: Relieve the pressure on either side of the saw so it can be freed.
A big difference between venting roofs and tree-cutting is the behavior of the chains. Ventilation chains do a lot of grinding rather than cutting. Because of that, rotational kickback (a sudden stopage of the chain) is rare. Wood-cutting chains primarily operate by slicing through the wood fibers. Rotational kickback is more common with this type of chain and “hooking” can occur when the hook-shaped cutters snag onto an object while cutting.
Different Saw Parts: Spare parts and chains from different manufacturers got mixed together. Some chains wouldn’t fit properly or even rotate around the bar. Several bars and other parts were damaged before we realized what had happened.
To deal with this issue, we learned to watch out for two things: the gauge and the pitch of the chain. The gauge is the thickness measurement of the drive links. The drive links are the teeth that ride in the groove of the bar. Fire service chains are 0.063 gauge and most wood-cutting chains are 0.050 gauge. The pitch of the chain is a measurement from rivet to rivet. All heavy-duty rescue saws use a 0.404 pitch, while most saws specifically designed for tree cutting have a 0.375″ pitch.
If chains of the wrong pitch and gauge are used, damage will likely occur to the chain, the bar, the sprocket nose and/or the drive sprocket. Note: You don’t need to memorize these numbers or know a lot about the parts. The important point here is not to mix the parts among different saws.
Apparel: When called to be on a cut team, most of us arrived as we would any other time we’re called into work–in a work uniform and turnout gear. However, the standard dress for fire duty soon became cumbersome. The preferred way to dress for our cut team duties included work boots, work gloves, a hard hat and layered clothing to adjust to changing temperatures.
Safety equipment, such as eye protection and ear protection, was a necessity. At fires I usually use my SCBA facepiece or helmet shield for eye protection. Working on the cut team did not require a fire helmet or SCBA, so I had to find alternative eye protection. Plus, using the chainsaw for even short times at fires is considerably loud. Running the saw for eight hours on the cut team definitely called for ear protection.
Live Wires: Live wires were sometimes mixed with fallen trees. As such, we didn’t want to just cut down all the trees and make matters worse. Instead, if possible, we would hollow out a tunnel for traffic to pass through. If there was a hazard related to a tree falling or exposure to live electrical lines, we cordoned off the area with scene tape and turned the location over to either the power company or a specialized tree crew.
Downed Materials: Not all streets had the same amount of downed materials to remove. For some it was as simple as cutting a few branches or clearing some limbs from around hydrants. For those streets, one crew of four people would breeze through cutting and moving debris to the side of the road. On the other hand, there were some streets completely filled with fallen trees, some almost to the point where you couldn’t see from one end of the street to the other. On these streets we would spread out and just keep cutting and cutting. Once this was complete we would notify our Streets Department, which would send high lifts and dump trucks to immediately load the cut materials. This saved us from having to physically move debris from the street. Finally, there were streets that were far beyond our crew’s capability. On those streets we worked side-by-side with the Streets Department and private contractors hired by the city. As they used the loaders to get through the heavy stuff, we took care of the smaller pieces.
Getting the Job Done
As firefighters, we’re used to arriving at the scene, taking care of business and then driving away with the satisfaction that comes from knowing that we completed the task. This wasn’t the case in the aftermath of the October Surprise Snowstorm. The task of clearing the streets seemed massive and unachievable. We physically could not finish the job and go home in a couple hours or even one day. But as time passed, we slowly managed to clear the streets, one by one. After a week, most of the roads were deemed passable and the cut crews were deactivated. In the end, the factor that made the most impact on the situation was the chainsaw operators who took their knowledge of venting roofs and applied these skills in the debris-filled streets. The entire situation proved the importance of adaptability in our line of work. After all none of us expected Mother Nature to throw a surprise snowstorm at us in mid-October. And who knows what she’s got in store for us next. Whatever it is, I like to think that Buffalo is prepared to employ what we already know in order to take on a new challenge, just as we did during the October Surprise Snowstorm.
