WPBFD History

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their own property. On Sunday evening, July 3, 1955, units were sent to 642-7th Street. A flooded kerosene stove had set fire to window curtains in Viola Thomas' kitchen. She and neighbors formed a bucket brigade, bringing water in pots, pans, and buckets to throw on the fire. A few minutes later she stood in her charred kitchen worried about what she was going to have for dinner. The fire had burned her pot of chicken and rice on the stove. Another fire call came in at 4:34 a.m. on Monday morning, July 4, 1955. An apartment was on fire at 4207 1/2 South Olive Avenue. The first arriving pumper out of South Borough quickly extinguished the small apartment fire. What would normally have been a routine call was suddenly complicated when the body of a female was found between the two single beds. Nearby was an empty can of Energine (lighter fluid). Police were

Bill was born on January 1, 1910. His early child- hood was filled with visions of the big red fire trucks screaming down the road as smoke rose in the distance. Often he would "play hooky" from school to chase the trucks. In 1930, at the age of twenty, Bill ordered his own personal leather fire helmet from Chicago. The toughest decision of his life had to be made when he had to look for a job - it was either the West Palm Beach Fire Depart- ment or Police Department. After weighing the hours and the pay, Bill "took his best shot" as he would later say and became a police officer. After his retirement on December 5, 1959, he bought a red and white Jeep station wagon. He packed the jeep with equipment - the best flashlights money could buy; ropes, tools, maps, a cooler with drinks, and of course, a pack or two of hand rolled Bull Durham ciga- rettes for the firemen who had left their

called to join in the investigation. The victim was identified as Louise R. Dawson. She had given con- flicting stories to the landlord when she rented the apartment a week before and had been seen the day before the fire with an unidentified elderly gentleman. Her es- tranged husband could not be located. Several minutes be- fore the fire was re- ported, a neighbor heard a scream and saw what was thought to be a drunk man near the apartment.

"smokes" at the sta- tion. His personal vehicle was the only one in the city au- thorized to have a red emergency light. Bill could now relive his childhood dream of chasing the fire engines day or night. A scanner sat on top of his television at home so he would- n't miss any action. The kindly fire buff showed-up all hours of the night in any kind of weather for a good burn. Some- times, as a fire com- pany approached a

Bill Kerr and his well-equipped Jeep circa 1980.

fire, the captain would spy Bill standing on the corner with his flashlight illuminating the hydrant or expertly directing traffic out of the way. When manpower was short Bill would drag hose, make connections, watch the pump panel, or do just about anything that needed to be done. He never got in the way and the firemen appreci- ated the extra pair of helping hands from a true friend. Bill was also a help when the cause of a fire was difficult to determine. Not much escaped his keen eye and he had a knack for sniffing out the cause. One after- noon he pulled-up at the scene where firemen were searching for clues. The entire house had been carefully checked with little results. Bill called the company offi- cer outside to show him a plastic bottle that he had found

Police and fire officials were at first unable to de- cide if the fire was arson-suicide or arson attempting to cover-up a murder. Detective Sergeant William "Bill" Kerr of the police department quickly solved the mystery and the cause was determined to be falling asleep with a cigarette. Kerr learned that the deceased had accidentally set beds on fire on two prior occasions and the victim's husband, who had been an early suspect, was found in jail, serving time for passing a bad check. This fire, and many others during the 1940s and 1950s, was investigated by Detective Sergeant William "Bill" Kerr of the West Palm Beach Police Department. Bill missed his calling by working as a police officer for his real love was investigating fires or just being on the

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