Terin Hopkins, NFSA Manager of Public Fire Protection

Every year around Independence Day, someone inevitably asks me the same question.

“Why do you hate fireworks!?”

My answer is always the same.

I do not hate fireworks.

I hate what they do to families.

I hate the injuries they leave behind. I hate the house fires they start. I hate the permanent scars they leave on children. And most of all, I hate funerals that follow tragedies that never should have happened.

This year, one story struck me harder than most.

A father lost his life trying to rescue his son from a burning home!

As someone who has spent decades in the fire service, I understand exactly why he went back inside. Every parent understands. Every firefighter understands. Love does not calculate risk. It simply reacts.

If my child were trapped inside a burning building, I know exactly what my heart would tell me to do.

Go!

But fire does not care about love. Fire does not care about courage. Fire does not care about intentions, and fire wins far too often.

One of the first lessons firefighters teach the public is simple:

“Once you’re out, stay out”

That message is not repeated because firefighters lack compassion. It has repeated because we have seen what happens when people go back inside.

Modern fires grow incredibly fast. Within minutes, smoke becomes toxic, visibility disappears, temperatures exceed survivable limits, and conditions can transition to flashover with almost no warning. A room that appears survivable for one moment can become unsurvivable seconds later.

Many victims are overcome by smoke long before flames ever reach them.

The heartbreaking reality is that family members attempting rescues often become additional victims, forcing firefighters to search for multiple people instead of one. What began as a potential rescue, quickly becomes a multiple fire fatal recovery.

That does not make these parents reckless.

It makes them human.

But understanding why someone did it does not change the tragic outcome.

Sadly, these tragedies become even harder to accept when they begin with something entirely preventable.

Consumer fireworks continue to injure thousands of Americans every year. According to the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, thousands of people are treated in emergency departments annually for fireworks-related injuries. Nearly three-quarters of those injuries occur during the few weeks surrounding the Fourth of July. Hands, fingers, eyes, and faces are the most commonly injured body parts, and children and teenagers account for a disproportionate number of victims.

Beyond the injuries, fireworks start thousands of fires every year across the United States, including structure fires, vehicle fires, and vegetation fires. The National Fire Protection Association reports that fireworks are responsible for tens of thousands of fires annually, causing millions of dollars in direct property damage.

Those statistics are not just numbers.

They are parents.

They are children.

They are neighbors.

They are firefighters risking their lives to save homes that never should have caught fire in the first place.

Every statistic represents a family whose holiday changed forever.

Many people assume that if consumer fireworks are legal, they must be safe.

They are not!

Even sparklers, often considered harmless children’s toys, burn at temperatures approaching 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit, hot enough to melt certain metals. That is more than enough heat to ignite clothing, dry grass, mulch, decks, or nearby combustible materials.

Every year, firefighters respond to homes ignited by stray fireworks landing on roofs, in landscaping, on balconies, or through open windows. Sometimes the fire starts outside with improperly discarded material and spreads. Sometimes the family does not even know the fire has started until smoke fills the home.

Then everything changes.

When I hear someone say, “It’s only fireworks,” I think about the firefighter’s climbing stairwells through smoke-filled buildings. I think about parents waiting outside hoping everyone made it out. I think about children who spend holidays in burn centers instead of backyards.

And I think about fathers who never come home because they loved their children enough to run toward danger.

There is another side to this conversation that deserves equal attention.

Automatic fire sprinklers.

If there is one technology that consistently changes the outcome of residential fires, it is the residential fire sprinkler system. Repeatedly, sprinklers have proven their ability to control or extinguish fires before they spread beyond the room of origin. They dramatically reduce the heat, smoke, and toxic gases that make escape and rescue so difficult.

When sprinklers operate early, occupants often have the precious extra minutes they need to escape safely. Firefighters arrive at a controlled fire rather than an entire home engulfed in flames. Families lose far less property, and far more importantly, far fewer lives.

As a former fire official, I have seen enough fires to know that smoke alarms help save lives by providing early notifications.

Fire sprinklers save lives by controlling the fire itself.

Together, they form the most effective combination of fire protection available for a home.

No family should have to choose between escaping and attempting an impossible rescue.

No firefighter should have to recover the body of a parent who went back inside.

No child should grow up knowing their father died trying to save them.

The greatest tragedy is that many of these stories are preventable.

So, when someone asks me why I dislike consumer fireworks, my answer isn’t about regulations, enforcement, or code requirements.

It is about memories.

It is about families; I have watched, lose everything.

It is about the children I have seen in burn units.

It is about firefighters who have carried victims from homes they could not save.

And it is about a father whose final act was one of unimaginable love!

This Fourth of July and every celebration that follows, I hope families choose professional fireworks displays over consumer fireworks. I hope they recognize that a few moments of entertainment are never worth risking a lifetime of regret.

Because behind every fireworks statistic is a name.

Behind every house fire is a family.

And behind too many of those tragedies is someone who simply wanted to save the people they loved.