On September 3, 2004 Deputy Chief James D'heron and members of the NB Fire Dept were dispatched to a fire in a multiple-family residence. DC D'heron arrived first, reported a working fire, and took command. Not seeing any occupants outside or leaving the structure, he entered the structure to alert residents of the fire. DC D'heron was not wearing any personal protective clothing or equipment. DC D'heron was banging on doors to alert the residents of the fire when an explosion occurred.
DC D'heron was mortally burned in the explosion and ensuing fire. Arriving firefighters found him on the second floor landing and removed him from the structure. He was pronounced dead at the scene. A homeless man who slept in the hallway of the building caused the fire. The man discarded a cigarette near some plastic shower curtains and a plastic container of gasoline. The curtains and the gasoline ignited, producing sufficient heat to cause 3 nearby propane cylinders to vent their contents. The accumulated gas is the source of the explosion that killed Deputy Chief D'heron.
My father gave his life that day so that others could live. Thirteen adults and two children escaped safely. According to authorities six other residents were not home at the time of the fire.
A hero in life and death Late fireman's impact still felt
Home News Tribune Online 09/4/05 By Rick Harrison STAFF WRITER rharrison@thnt.com
NEW BRUNSWICK - Six-year-old Kiera Varga twirled around and scurried halfway up the fire pole yesterday morning in a purple dress with lime stripes. Cheerful soft rock music played over public-address speakers. Her 5-year-old brother, Daniel, giggled as he swiped white dress-gloves from a firefighter's back pocket, only to be tackled in a warm bear hug.
One year ago yesterday, Deputy Chief James D'heron died after rescuing 15 people from a burning building on Lee Avenue. And while life has gone on for his family - like grandchildren Kiera and Daniel - and for the firemen who considered him a brother, yesterday's memorial service at the firehouse on Joyce Kilmer Avenue floated in that peculiar space between smiles, laughter and tears.
