My freshman year in high school would have some momentous
life events in it for my whole class.
On August 17th, 1990 a few days after we started
school, we would lose Heather and Becky.
They along with their boyfriends, would be killed on a well site, when
it exploded.
You have to remember we were all from a small town. There
was no place, where kids might hang out together, drink beer and make out. What was done in those days, is that kids
would go down on a well site and party. Well
sites, are old oil well sites, where the rig has been removed, and now have
only collection tanks remaining. These
sites are usually down a dirt road, and in those days rarely protected, by a
gate and / or a lock. These places are
often secluded and hard to find. I
frequently heard my father tell tales of finding old, long abandoned well
sites, when he was working on a new pipeline.
I am not sure, in those days, that even the oil companies knew, where
all their well sites were. On a well
site you have these huge natural gas tanks, that sit on a large gravel or dirt
area, that have been cleared and can
easily accommodate a large crowd, and most of the time 5 or 6 vehicles easy. Their
seclusion, large cleared area, and easy accessibility made them natural
gathering spots for teenagers.
The tanks on these well sites are called 210’s, meaning they
can hold up to 210 barrels of natural gas.
A natural gas barrel is 42 gallons, you have to allow for the natural
expansion and contraction of the gas.
That means just one of these tanks can hold 8,820 gallons of natural
gas. These tanks are usually 12 ft tall
and there can be 1, 2 or as many as 4 on a well site. One thing most people don’t know is that
natural gas sweats, and when it does it produces a condensation that is as
powerful as jet fuel.
My knowledge comes from living here all my life and having a
father in the natural gas business, and years of going on these well site
locations with him. Now I should be clear, I only heard of these
parties. I was never cool enough to be
invited to one.
Somehow a spark was made and it ignited the gas tanks. It
shook houses a mile away, and broke windows a good distance away as well. Becky who was tall and slender like her
sister, was two years older than me. Heather was in my same grade, but we were
not often in the same class. I have
always regretted that we were not closer.
As much as I suffer with that guilt, I know others it has
eaten alive. Other who were supposed to
have been at the party that night, but for whatever reason never made it. Heather and Becky’s death taught me to be
grateful for every birthday, because not everyone gets to be this old.
After Heather and Becky’s deaths I saw a great effort on the
part of the oil companies, to mark and lock their well roads and other
properties. Today you rarely find one
open. I have no idea if parties on the
well sites continued after their deaths, or it they still happen today.
The same year we lost Heather and Becky we lost our school
as well, on the evening of February 4th, 1991 our school began to
burn.
I got a phone call, from one of my uncles long before
dawn. I remember him saying, “Ilsa, schools
on fire.” I said, “Okay,” and went back to sleep. I woke up just about the time Daddy was
getting ready to go to work. I caught
him just before he left. I told him of
the phone call. At that point I was not
completely sure I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing up. I asked if he would drive by the school, and
come back and tell me what was going on.
He said he would.
Now Logansport is a small, quiet town. In those days I could sit on my porch, and
listen to the football games. I always
knew when we made a touchdown, because I could hear the crowd cheer. While Dad went to go check, Mom and I looked
in the general direction of the school and saw an orange glow. Daddy returned a few minutes later to say I
was correct. I didn’t dream it. The school was indeed on fire.
Now I know it’s almost every student’s ardent hope and wish,
that their school would burn too. I must
tell you we had all wished for such a thing, until it happened to us. One night affected our lives for the next
year and a half.
Mom and I hoped in the car and immediately drove to my
school. We could see it’s flames long
before we ever got there. My ancient 2
story high school was engulfed. I will
never forget driving past the blaze and the windows in the car being too hot to
touch. At that point my school was just
a shell. I would find out years later,
that the original school had been wood.
Some years later it had been bricked over. So when all was said and done with, the
interior of the building was gone, but the brick facade remained.
There were fire trucks and fire fighters everywhere. I wonder now if they called in mutual aid
from adjacent fire districts. They must
have, at some point, marked it as a total loss and let it just burn. I think by the point we arrived, they were
just trying to keep the other nearby buildings from catching fire as well. And
they did a phenomenal job. They saved
the “Middle School” (the building the 7th & 8th
graders used), the gym, the annex, the band building, and the home economics
building. The only things that burned
that night were the main high school building and the annex, but that had been
condemned long ago. We stopped to talk
to one of the firefighters. I wanted to
warn him that there was a chemistry lab upstairs. He said, “Yes Mam’. We know.
It was putting off pretty colors & sparks last night.” Stories abounded about how firefighters and
teachers alike risked their lives to save important documents, like test scores
and grades in the councilor’s office, and those who tried to save trophies from
the trophy cases.
My school burned for three days straight. It was a week before it stopped
smoldering. The steel beams inside were
twisted from the heat. I do remember
hearing that part of what fueled the fire, was the very thick, probable 2” – 4”
thick layer of wax, on top of the wood floors.
I know it was a while before investigators could get a good look, at
what was left of our school, and decide what the cause of the fire was.
The fire was deemed to be arson. No one, as far as I know, has ever claimed
responsibility for the fire. No one has
ever been convicted in this crime. We
were all told that a homeless person had been inside and set the fire. Logansport had no homeless person, that I
ever saw. We were badly in need of a new
school, long before the fire. There was
another rumor that the son of one of the school board members was asked to set
it. I have no idea. The think the rumors are still wild and
varied on who did it. It all kinds of depends on who you ask.
I want to give a shout out to all the peps from Shreveport
and the Ark-La-Tex, who stepped up and helped my little school out after the
fire. People came of the woodworks to
help us. People donated books by the
truck load, as our beautiful little library had been part of what was destroyed. Within a few days what had been the gym
became the new library, admin offices, councilor’s office and 3 or 4 class
rooms. Four T buildings, temporary one
room portable buildings to have classes in, were brought in and set up. In less than a week were back in school.
I remember going to school, and seeing what was left of the
building, still smoking and with twisted beams.
Then came the men in white suits.
My guess is they were checking for asbestos, or trying to see if what
remained was toxic or not. What was left
of the school was soon surrounded by a chain link fence. Why we tried to get on with our lives, and
figure out what to do next. I remember
Mrs. Land’s room and her asking us to put our library books on the green built
in book case at the front of the room.
We did. It only filled a few shelves, but that was all that survived of
our library, was what we had checked out a few days before. It was terrible to me to think of all those
books gone.
Discussions were had on whether to rebuild the old building,
what to do with what remained of the old one, or whether to build a new
building, and if so where. It took a
while, but finally the decision was made to build a new school. It would take about 2 years, and would not be
at the same location as the current school.
There were 4 beautiful white columns on the front of the old high
school. It was decided that they would be saved, and everything else burned by
the fire would be demolished.
The 4
columns and the front part of the school stood for several years, before it was
deemed unsafe, as people were prone to climbing on it. Finally it was destroyed as well. For a year and a half we lived like
that. I remember letting out a great
scream when the high school was being demolished. We all stood around the fence and watched the
bulldozers destroy what was left. We
couldn’t stop watching.
The new school was built on a sprawling property just before
the Maple Springs Baptist Church, down from the Louisiana Pacific Plant, and
the VFW building. It was beautiful, but
with none of the same charm as the old school had.
The land where our old high school stood was bought by the First
Baptist Church, which was next door to our old school. Ironically their building burned down a few
years ago. They built a new million
dollar church in the same spot as our old school stood.
The trees were the last witnesses to go. On either side of the sidewalk in front of
our old school were two massive old oak trees.
Turns out they had been planted to honor students who fought in
WWI. They were as much a part of the
school as the columns were. At the
beginning of the new churches construction they were cut down, despite protests
from those in town, including one beloved lady who had to be dragged away from
there by the police. I must say I admire
her style.
I was recently through that neck of the woods for a cousin’s
baby shower. I saw the new church in all
its glory and out in front had been planted two new trees. Ironic and typical, at least in my mind
anyways.
Ilsa
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