Help! My Stove's on Fire! (or how the Fire Extinquisher Safety Course Came in Handy)

I recently took (make that suffered through) the required Fire Extinguisher Safety Course at work. I actually took notes, because I knew I was going to get quizzed on A,B ,C, D levels of extinguishers and which nasty fire to use them on. When I realized this, I actually started the course over and got out my pen and paper.

I was mocked for this.

"Abby actually took notes!" declared one coworker with amusement.

So last night, when I slid my potatoes au gratin into the preheated oven, little did I know that I should have brought that page of notes home.

I glanced over to the oven and noticed a marble-size white ball of fire slowly making its way along the coil of the bottom element. Weird, I thought. Must be some aluminum foil burning away (does aluminum foil actually do that?) As I watched, it grew to a ping pong ball size. Hmmm. Jenny came and observed. We yelled for Jim, who was upstairs.

The element is burning up, was his diagnosis. So we turned off the power. This did not stop the white ball of fire. As a matter of fact, something on the bottom of the oven flared up and we suddenly had a Christmas-morning-worthy fireplace scene going on.

We got the extinguisher (dusty and stuck in the back of the pantry) and suddenly I thought: you can't use this on a metal fire. Which is a class D fire. This extinguisher is ABC. Uh oh.

Understand: My ACTUAL STOVE was on fire, not what was cooking in it.

Here's something I learned. When you call the Fire Department, they respond with all they have. If you expect an SUV with some lights on top to come check it out for you FORGET that. Your entire neighborhood will be treated to the full power of the Henrico County Fire Department on display. Engines from two stations came. EMS showed up. All in all, our faulty stove merited 4 engines, an EMS vehicle, an SUV and I don't know what else, because it stretched as far down the block as I could see.

Men suited up with enough gear to go to the moon lept into action. Waves of them. By this time, the element had fizzled out and left only a blackened, charred cavern where my oven used to be. They fanned out and secured the upstairs by closing the doors. I felt suddenly like stopping, dropping and rolling right on the spot.

They were great. They declared "We've got a moderate level of haze in here" and suddenly all the windows were open and a big fan was blowing out the smoke. They pulled the stove out and unplugged it. Wrote down some important information (??) on a pad of paper, and gave us a fire extinguisher lesson.

Tap the bottom of your extinguisher with a hammer to break up the powder, and your 15-year old equipment should work fine. An ABC (check the label) rated extinguisher CAN be used on electrical fires. But when we cut the power and the fire kept going, we did indeed have a metal fire. Class D. We did the right thing in calling them.

I made 100% on the fire extinguisher safety course, and I am here to say I am mighty proud of that. But, let's hope State Farm is just as proud, because after the death of the washing machine, the truck, the dog and the furnace last fall, I need some back up. The life of appliances, dogs, and assorted other things seems to be about 10 years for us. Once I renew all the equipment, I should be good until age 61.

Remind me to retake the fire extinguisher safety course if I'm still working at Media General when I am 61. You just never know when you might need that information.