Page 32 of Startup Fire

Chapter 12

Fire and Glass

"Whatever happens at the fundraiser, we've already won." Wayne squeezed Jess's hand as they pulled into the Asheville fairgrounds parking lot.

Jess smiled and squeezed back. "Still nervous?"

"About the demonstration? No. About you seeing me make a fool of myself in front of hundreds of people? Absolutely."

The fairgrounds had been transformed into a fire safety showcase. Booths from departments across four states lined the perimeter. Families wandered between demonstrations—smoke detector education, escape planning, hands-on equipment displays.

But the crowd gathering around their setup was by far the largest.

Jess's portable glassblowing station sat center stage, her torch already lit. Wayne stood nearby with fire extinguishers and protective equipment, looking every inch the competent firefighter.

Chief Murphy's voice boomed through the speakers. “Folks, we're about to show you something special. Glass artist Jessica Hartley will demonstrate her craft, but things are going to go wrong—because when you're working with extreme heat, accidents happen. And when they do, you need to know what to do.”

Jess caught Wayne's eye. He nodded. Showtime.

She began gathering molten glass, narrating her process. “Glassblowing requires temperatures over two thousand degrees Fahrenheit. That's hot enough to ignite almost anything it touches...”

Right on cue, she “accidentally” brushed the gather against a prepared cotton cloth. Flames erupted—bright orange, controlled but dramatic.

The crowd gasped.

“Oh no!” Jess stepped back, looking appropriately alarmed.

Wayne was already moving, his movements efficient and calm. “Everyone stay calm. First rule—never use water on a chemical fire.” He demonstrated with a fire blanket. “Fire needs oxygen. Cut off the oxygen, fire goes out.”

Applause rippled through the crowd.

“Now, we're going to talk about something that might save your life someday—how to put out different types of fires safely.”

He moved through the stations quickly. Wood fire with an extinguisher—pull, aim, squeeze, sweep. Grease fire smothered with a lid. Electrical fire with a Class C extinguisher. And finally, copper-infused flames burning purple-green. “This one's just for fun—colored flames from metal salts. Still dangerous, but pretty to look at.”

The crowd applauded.

“Now comes the fun part.” Just as Wayne spoke, Jess dropped molten glass into the grease pan. Flames shot up two feet high.

“Oh no! What are we gonna do?”

“Lid!” – “Put the lid on!” – “Don't use water!” the audience yelled back.

Wayne grinned. “Sounds like you were paying attention. I need a volunteer.”

Hands shot up. He pointed to a young woman who stepped forward and slapped the lid on the pan. The flames died instantly.

As the applause faded, Jess reignited the purple flames.

Wayne's gaze landed on a boy, maybe ten years old, practically vibrating with excitement. “How about you, bud?”

The kid scrambled forward but slowed as he got closer, eyes wide, one hand clutching his t-shirt.

Wayne crouched beside him. “Come on, bud. I'm right here with you.” His voice was low, but the microphone caught it. “Those purple flames look pretty cool, don't they? We're gonna put them out together.”

The kid nodded and stepped forward.

Wayne guided him through it—helping him grip the blanket, showing him how to lay it over the flames gently. The purple fire disappeared beneath the fabric, and the crowd erupted in cheers. The boy's face split into a huge grin.