Fire Code and Rhode Island (Part I).
 
As much we who live here would like to think, Rhode Island is not always a forward thinking state.  Local law is made in a knee-jerk fashion, usually in reaction to a major tragedy or during an election year.  The resulting legislation is generally so over the top, so severe, so extreme, as to become economically crippling.  A few years will then pass, enforcement will wane, and the cycle will repeat.  We do not learn from history.  We do not learn from our mistakes.
 
On February 20th, 2003, the Station nightclub burned down, killing 100 people.  Rhode Island made the national news, and all agreed that it was a tragedy.  And it was.  The entire club was engulfed in flame in less than three minutes.  This horrible fire was caused my numerous factors, which I will not get into here.  Let’s all just agree that the system failed.
 
Immediately, fingers were pointed, blame was placed, and everyone sued everyone else.  Unfortunately, 79% of the R.I. population is composed of a sub breed of man, known as the personal injury lawyer.  These wily creatures use their tentacled appendages to suck the life, money, and humanity out of any situation.  This is how things work in America - people here believe that suing fo’ mo’ money will bring back their loved ones.  Oh, and a 7-series beemer, ‘cause their loved one would want them to have that.
 
I bought the 454 square feet of squalor love palace in Nov, 2004 - approximately 1 1/2 years after the nightclub fire.  This coincided perfectly with the new, most-stringent-in-the-nation fire code regulations, designed to cover the ass of legislators.  And save lives on the side.
 
Fire code affected every aspect of the renovation.  For starters, I had to use 1-hour fire rated, 5/8th inch sheetrock, rather than the more traditional 1/2”.  Before the sheetrock was screwed to the wall, we needed to add firestops along the floor.  Interestingly enough, this house was built in the “balloon framing” style, which means the outside shell was put up before the inside floors.  Modern framing technique builds one floor on top of another.   The problem with balloon framing is that there is a continuous cavity between the wall posts that runs from the basement to the attic.  If a fire starts in the basement, it can run up between the walls and into the attic in a matter of seconds, engulfing the entire house in flame rather quickly.  Fires in modern houses have to burn through the fire stops at each floor, thus slowing its spread, giving tenants time to evacuate.  So, putting in fire stops was a pretty good idea.    
Saturday, July 1, 2006
Pictured here are the fire stops we installed.  All we had to do was stuff about 6 inches of fire retardant mineral wool into the spaces between the wall studs, and then cap them with a 2x4 cut to size.  Installing these also helped to cut down on noise between the first and second floors.  
The entire condo also had to have a $15,000 fire alarm installed.  In my unit alone, this included: two smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, a heat sensor over my stove, and a strobe light.  I don’t know why we have to have a strobe, but its part of the code.  The heat sensor is brilliantly placed just over my oven, so when I set it to 400 degrees and open the door to check on the baking status of my frozen pizza, it sets the local alarm off.  Yes, local alarm.  This fire alarm has two modes, one for the unit itself that the owner can reset, and the master alarm for the entire condo.  Either one is loud enough to make you soil your underdog underoos.  You know you still wear them.  
 
We’ve set off the master alarm once or twice, and I can attest that it is the scariest sound that I have ever heard.  This alarm is much worse than any fire drill I ever had in school.  Every smoke detector in the entire condo is connected and screeching as loud as possible, every strobe is flashing, people are pissed, the children are crying, and we have a siren near the front door.  WTF is the siren for?  The 30+ smoke detectors aren’t loud enough by themselves?  Anyway, if the master alarm goes off, we have to call 911.  The fire department, which is less than 1/8th of a mile away, has to roll trucks and investigate.  They’ll later charge us for a false alarm.  Then you try not to tell anyone that you set off the damn thing simply by routering a recessed light into the ceiling drywall.  That’s our little secret.