The fire started in what could have been the living room. At first only a narrow pillar of flames was visible from the outside, but the blaze quickly climbed its way up walls and through doorways, reaching its way out.

A wave of thick, black smoke pushed its way through the open windows, hiding the rest of the house from view. When the smoke cleared, the house was engulfed.

Number 3304, a small white house in Ossipee, a few miles north of Elon, was on fire, and those nearby—even the firefighters on duty—just watched.

“This house has been an eyesore in the community,” said Jim Barbour, associate professor of economics and the owner of the house.

Barbour asked for the house to be burned Saturday because it was uninhabitable, and with the house gone, the property would be more marketable.

“Empty lots look nicer than run-down houses,” said JoAnn Barbour, Jim’s wife.

The couple has only owned the property since April, and bought it as an attachment to several lots nearby. They called the local Altamahaw-Ossipee Fire Department to have it burned, and also to provide some training for the volunteer firefighters.

“I want these guys to be really good,” said Jim, who liked the idea of giving the firefighters a chance to train.

The Altamahaw-Ossipee Fire Department is made up of about 22 firefighters. Only three of those are full-time, paid staff members.

“It feels good to know you can help people out,” said Justin Newton, a volunteer firefighter and senior at Elon.

Newton, sociology major, grew up next door to the Altamahaw-Ossipee Fire Department, where his cousin Mike Barnette is the fire chief. He’s spent five years as a volunteer firefighter and plans on making a career out of it after college.

He has responded to about eight house fires during his time as a firefighter, and Newton said that training exercises like these are great for experience.

“It’s really hard to get real-life fire training,” said Ed Lipscomb, deputy fire chief at the Altamahaw-Ossipee Fire Department.

Lipscomb said the department doesn’t get too many calls to burn houses, but when they do, it is a chance for the firemen to brush up on their skills.

“[You learn to] know what to look for in a real fire situation,” he said.

Lipscomb said some of the training his team does includes filling squalid houses with smoke, and running through possible real-life scenarios including practicing how to rescue victims inside.

But today, there were no rescues — the house just burned.

Firefighters clad in red and yellow thermal suits, checked their gear and took their assigned positions.

Using diesel fuel, they doused the house, and two firefighters with torches started the fire from inside.

Before long, the house was disintegrating into small black flakes and ash, carried off by the smoke and breeze.

The flames licked the branches of nearby trees, overwhelming them temporarily, until watchful firemen regulated the blaze with bursts of hose water.

In the end, only a blackened brick chimney was left intact.

“You don’t have a house to burn down every day,” said Tony Michael, a 17-year veteran of the Altamahaw-Ossipee Fire Department.

Michael, who’s lived in Ossipee all his life and volunteers at the fire department with his brother Keith, said firefighting is a family business.

“It’s in your blood,” said Keith Michael, a 30-year veteran. The Michaels’ uncle and father also served as firefighters, and Keith said there is pride in serving the community.

“You do get respect from other people,” Keith said.

Finally, the chimney was the last piece of the house to go—but not by fire—by water. It took three men, sitting down, holding tightly against the force of a hose to knock down the structure. The chimney finally gave way to the water, one brick at a time.

The deputy chief told others that a single man couldn’t handle the force of the hose himself. Only with firemen working together could water be sent out strong enough to shatter walls.

Where an old house stood about an hour before, only a pile of smoldering rubble was left.

Jim Barbour looked on with a smile, drinking his morning coffee.

“You don’t get to see this every Saturday morning,” he said.

Reporter: Alexandra Hemmerly-Brown - 10/10/07