Long night of covering a 17,017-acre wildfire in Central Florida

A firefighter watches the flames at Parrish Park in Scottsmoor.

I've covered several fires in my year of reporting here in Brevard County. But the one that started Feb. 28 and eventually burned 17,017 acres in Mims and Scottsmoor kind of took the cake.

For me, it was 12 hours (3 p.m. to 3 a.m.) of smoke inhalation as the flames raced from well west of Interstate 95 to just east of U.S. 1, closing down both of those major north-south thoroughfares on the Space Coast.

I saw firefighters somehow protect structures as the flames burned on all sides of them. At one point, I was asked to evacuate from my roadside location five minutes before the fire crossed the street.

Fortunately, only one home and a few storage buildings and small hunting camps were destroyed, though two firefighters did suffer second-degree burns.

These are the photos I snapped within the first half-day of the blaze.

All roads giving access to the brush fire were closed during its initial stages. A Brevard County Sheriff's Office deputy directed traffic on U.S. 1 at Aurantia Road in Mims.

I eventually got through the roadblock and took some photos near a cow pasture well east of the eastbound fire.

There's a small plane in this photo -- above the sun, about an inch from the edge of the photo. The Cessna was monitoring the fire from above and directing firefighters on the ground.

This pasture was just south of Stuckway Road in Scottsmoor, the northernmost exit from Interstate 95 in Brevard.

Yet another at the cow pasture.

From afar, I watched helicopters dump water onto the fire.

The sun went down behind the smoke.

Portions of this land would eventually burn. We haven't heard whether any cattle were injured.

These cows got a little spooked as I walked up to the fence with my camera.

The helicopters were operated by the Florida Division of Forestry, which is very skilled in fighting wildfires.

I got closer the blaze here. Behind this BP gas station is the Crystal Lake RV Park, a large community of recreational vehicles in the flames' direct path.

The overpass on the left is Interstate 95. The blaze was on this side -- the east side -- of the highway at this point (just before 8 p.m.).

This exposure is just a few seconds long.

Trees are silhouetted against the glowing blaze.

Stuckway Road was open for a short time, allowing vehicles to go south on the interstate (not north, where the fire was in the median).

At this point, the road I'm standing on is closed. The flames were pretty intense behind the gas station.

I took this shot, just to illustrate where the RV park was located. Embers were landing around me, prompting the deputies to leave and tell me to leave. The fire crossed the roadway five minutes later.

To the south of the gas station, still in the town of Scottsmoor, the flames burned around a ball field at Parrish Park.

The firefighters stood by but didn't really spray the flames. They were there only to fight the fire if it neared structures. If wind-blown embers started "spot fires," they would douse them as well.

Too bad none of these pictures made the newspaper.

This was the only resident who went into the park with me.

The slight streaks at the top of this image are embers flying overhead.

I wanted to tell him, "Shoot it!"

On a residential street adjacent to the park, bulldozers and firetrucks set up around a mobile home. The fire burned about 20 feet from it. A controlled burn last year was credited with eliminating the fuels it needed to reach the home and others in the area.

This water truck is typically used for agricultural purposes -- orange groves, specifically. But in this case, residents used it to fight the fire, which had just crossed U.S. 1 after midnight.

These residents were protecting their buddy's home a few hundred yards east of the eastbound flames. They also sawed down a burning tree because embers from its top were flying off and landing close to the home. Firefighters said the embers were traveling up to a half-mile from the front of the fire, which burned eight miles in eight hours.

The home they were protecting was a beach house that was relocated from Cape Canaveral when Kennedy Space Center was built. So they were saving a piece of history.

The west side of U.S. 1 was on fire (pictured). The median was on fire. Debris on the roadway itself was on fire. And the east side was on fire. It was all on fire.

This woman smothered a small spot fire on the roadside.

One of the residents heads back to the water truck.

The last photos of the evening were taken south of the blaze. This one shows lights from Florida Division of Forestry bulldozers as they plowed fire breaks. It wouldn't be until Saturday when they finally plowed 30-foot-wide breaks around the entire 48-mile perimeter.

This was the burned landscape along Stuckway Road on Tuesday.

Central Florida wildfires: Map shows destruction from fires in Brevard County

View Larger Map
I took a little trip around the county to chronicle the destruction.

Use the pointer to navigate around the map. Click a blue marker to view photos of the destruction at that location. Use the scrollbar in each window if necessary. When done with each window, simply click off and move to another marker.

Update: This map is being changed because FLORIDA TODAY is using it.

Central Florida wildfires: Video: Fires near Corey Road in Malabar

I still don't have that nice video camera, but this is better than nothing.

Central Florida wildfires: Stupid moment: Fire starts near Offlede's house

This fire on Babcock Street was near two gas stations, but firefighters had it mostly contained.

I was wondering why I smelled smoke when I returned Monday evening.

A small brush fire ignited near my house sometime in the afternoon while I was gallivanting in South Brevard. Because my roommate isn't home right now, I feel responsible for the house. But it's a good thing our dear Melbourne firefighters were able to quickly knock down the flames.

I went back out Monday evening, and there was a fire burning next to Babcock Street that hadn't been there earlier in the day. I used a timed exposure to get the streaks from the passing vehicles in the shot.

I hope whoever is starting these things thinks twice about the next one.

Central Florida wildfires: People of Corey Road typify the hardy souls of Brevard

Firefighters couldn't be everywhere. So this Corey Road resident watered down his burning fence with a bucket.

Firefighters stand by in case of flare-ups. When there was one, they put it out within minutes.

Tragedies bring communities together. Today, Brevard County came together.

Wildfires have damaged or destroyed 51 homes in the southern part of the county. But the residents are resilient, hardy and stubborn.

I went to Corey Road in Malabar, where a fire destroyed two homes last night. I didn't get as close to the fires as I did last time, but I snapped a few photos anyway.

When I arrived, a helicopter, above, was racing from a pond to the main blaze as it threatened a home with a pile of tires in the backyard. Many residents said they have been afraid for a long time that the highly combustible material would put their homes in danger.

But the firefighters didn't let that happen.

One large home on the 2000 block of Corey Road was surrounded by fire this afternoon. A man drove by on a bicycle as I photographed it.

"There was brush all around that huge house this afternoon. Now, it's all burned, but the home is still there," he said. "That guy was lucky."

The land around the home was scorched, but the house stood firm, above.

Others were not as fortunate.

On the 3000 block, a fireman's home and his vehicles were untouched. Next door, only the charred concrete walls of a house were left. A gutted van, above, and car sat in the driveway.

My camera malfunctioned, and I was walking back toward my car when a woman in a sport utility vehicle stopped and asked where I was parked. Her name was Barbara, and her SUV was full of her and her husband's belongings. She wanted get the SUV away from her house and the fire, then she wanted me to give her a ride back to her home.

"It wouldn't make sense to pack up to evacuate and then leave the car in the driveway," Barbara said. "My husband's back there spraying everything with the hose. He's a dumbass."

Barbara was especially worried because her house is "severely underinsured."

"You can blame that on the hurricanes," she said.

I dropped her off at the intersection near her home. The rest of the road was closed.

I saw others like Barbara. They filled open-air trailers with luggage. They were ready to leave if the wind shifted. I saw residents wearing masks as they drove by me. Tears were rolling down their faces.

Megan O'Brien of Corey Road in Malabar is flanked by two neighbors. There's an old garage off to the left of this picture that was damaged. I asked O'Brien about it, and she said it was hit during the 2004 hurricanes, not during the 2008 wildfires.

After I fixed my camera, I walked back toward Barbara's house. I met one of her neighbors, Megan O'Brien. She was climbing down off her house after watering the roof. "I've been up there since noon," she said.

O'Brien sprays her roof.

A palm tree burst into flames after I finished talking with O'Brien. A volunteer firefighting truck raced 100 yards to extinguish it within a minute.

As the sun began to set, the fire and smoke didn't let up. I had been wandering Corey Road for hours. My clothes smelled of smoke. My face was dotted with ash. My sunglasses were coated with a gray film.

The smoke was bothering my eyes and nose so much that I had to leave. But since I had arrived, the routes I took to Corey Road had been cut off. U.S. 1 was closed. Interstate 95 was eerily empty, above. All the major north-south routes were blocked.

I drove to an I-95 overpass in Malabar, where I had a 360-degree view of the situation. Plumes of smoke rose from at least five regions. Fire was everywhere.

Considering the size of the blazes - more than 3,000 acres have burned - it's amazing that hundreds of homes haven't been destroyed.

Today would be a good day to appreciate our county and its public servants.

The rays of sun shining through the smoke are strangely beautiful.



This is in front of Megan O'Brien's home. In the background, a chopper dumps water on a tire fire.



O'Brien's driveway.

Video: You can almost feel the burn at Viera wildfire

I edited this quickly in Final Cut Express, so it's not awesome. I can't for the life of me figure out how to export a Quicktime file without overly compressing it or not compressing it enough. This file is only about 6 megabytes, so the quality isn't awesome.

But at least it shows a little of the scene of the fire this morning.

Update: I boosted the quality and uploaded the video to Viddler, instead of YouTube.

Fire threatens homes in Viera, but firefighters come up big; the real casualty of the blaze? palm trees

Firefighters spray water at the fire, above, and at the trees on someone's lawn, below.

Update: My employer linked to my Floridatoday.com blog from the home page. The Offlede is going mainstream. Uh oh. They also made a photo gallery with my shots.


When I got out of work around 1 a.m., I heard that a fire had burned 60 acres in Viera. It sounded like a good photo op, so I set out to chase down some flashy lights and orange glows.

Driving along Murrell Road, I saw several TV crews doing pretty little standups with the orange sky silhouetting the homes in the distance. So I knew Murrell Road wasn't where the real action was. As usual, the TV guys were miles from the scene. They dared not get their feet wet.

So, I found my way to Starling Way, a little street in a large subdivision with expansive, expensive homes. The fire was burning the pines, palms and palmettos just feet from the buildings. Poor trees.

Then, I got my feet wet. A sprinkler came on as I walked by one house. It soaked my pants, my socks and my shoes.

But I didn't care. I snapped photos like crazy and forgot about it. The heat from the fire dried my clothes anyway.

A group of about 10 youngish-looking individuals were watching the flames behind the homes. Some said they live in the area. Others were the residents' friends who just came to watch a good show.

But apparently, someone forgot the marshmallows. Or do they just not do that here in Florida? Does anybody know about s'mores?

The firefighters stood around and watched as the flames shot 30 feet into the air. They occasionally soaked a tree on someone's lawn or the screening around several of the homes' covered patios. Luckily, the wind was blowing the fire away from the homes and into land that had already burned: It had nowhere to go.

The fire burned southward behind the homes lining Starling Way. It probably burned 400 yards in the few hours I was there.

When it reached a pond, the men stood between the blaze and the marshy area. They spritzed it a few times with their mighty hose. A large stand of palms and palmettos crackled into flames. It reminded me of that bonfire I went to a few years ago when the Red Sox won the World Series.

But that was all. Around 3:15 a.m., there were only small flames, and the firefighters were ready to ship out.

The owner of the house closest to where the fire stopped was grateful.

"I'm so glad it didn't go any farther," he said. "We have a beautiful view of the pond, and I wouldn't want the fire to ruin it."

"Thank you, guys," he said to the firefighters.

"Oh, no problem," one firefighter said. "That was easy."

I took 858 photos, or 1.73 gigabytes of disk space on my new Mac. Looks like an external hard drive is in my future. I'll post video later. I should get sleep first, though.

My first shot when I arrived. This is where I started to get my feet wet.

A couple of concerned residents near one of the more modest homes of the neighborhood. The flames were only feet away, but the wind was blowing them away from the homes.

People, including myself, got close enough to roast a few marshmallows. It was quite safe because of the wind.

One of the younger residents climbed onto his roof to snap a photo. He probably got better shots up there than I did on earth.

One of the less modest homes here. Just after I shot this, the flame flared up two houses down the street, threatening a house. These people scattered when that happened.

Firefighters hosed down the screens of this house's patio area.

Viera = hell?

Nope. Not hell. Firefighters don't go there. Viera, you're off the hook.

The fire brought together a bunch of teens from the neighborhood. Some good, clean Thursday night entertainment! I was talking with a homeowner in the area, and she asked what caused the fire. I didn't know, and then one of these guys said that teens had set the recent brush fires in Brevard County. He said he had no part in any of them, though.

I think the teens had more fun taking photos of the fire than I did. This one used his cell phone.

The burning carcass of a palm tree. RIP. ... Not.

This was the firefighters' last stand. Once this palm was dead, it was done. Good night.