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‘A family, dysfunctional, but a family.' Fall River fire survivors process the tragedy, as their next steps remain uncertain.

‘A family, dysfunctional, but a family.' Fall River fire survivors process the tragedy, as their next steps remain uncertain.

Boston Globe5 days ago
Sitting on a motorized scooter a block away from the living facility where he's currently residing, the double amputee's bright blue eyes shone as he recalled fond memories of the lives lost.
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'It was a family, dysfunctional, but a family,' Pimentel said.
Survivors who made it out of the assisted living facility the night of July 13 are now scattered across the Fall River area and eastern Massachusetts, living in at least 10 living facilities identified so far by the Globe. Most are in and around Fall River, though one resident is staying at a living facility around 60 miles away in
South Yarmouth. They are waiting to learn when they will get to retrieve their belongings — and where they will live next.
As of this week, all of the displaced residents had been contacted and are in a case management system, Kimberly Smith, the executive director of United Way of Greater Fall River, said before a press conference Tuesday.
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More than 75 percent of Gabriel House residents are enrolled in Medicaid, and chose Gabriel House because it charged less than a typical facility for private-paying patients. However, residents and family members have long complained about living conditions at the House, citing broken elevators, mice, and a lack of fire evacuation plans.
The night of the fire, Pimentel said that he didn't see any emergency lights go off. He said there was 'too much smoke in the hallway' for him to leave his room. Quickly, he ripped his second-floor bedroom window
'off the hinges.' A fireman helped carry Pimentel down a ladder. Pimentel remembers watching his prosthetic leg fall off halfway down.
Pimentel said he will be at Fall River HealthCare, another assisted living facility, for at least 30 days, but after that, his living accommodations are uncertain.
He wants to stay in Fall River because he knows the neighborhood like the back of his hand. When he lived at Gabriel House, he went to the nearby convenience store, and he could visit his wife and his father's graves at the cemeteries. This late in life, he isn't prepared to start over.
Officials said when his stay at Fall River HealthCare runs out, one of his options is to transfer to
a facility in New Bedford. But he has never lived in New Bedford and doesn't know anyone there, he said.
'I don't know anything about New Bedford,' he said. 'I don't know where the DMV is. I don't know where the bus station is.'
He wants to go to the River Falls Senior Living, an assisted living facility that is a fifteen-minute walk from Gabriel House, because of its proximity to his closest friend, Russell Silvia, and all places Pimentel is familiar with.
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He knows Landmark at Fall River is 'expensive' but 'doesn't care,' saying he'd figure out how to make ends meet.
'It's close to everything I need,' he said.
Pimentel said he has been leaning on his friend, Silvia, for help. Silvia helped organize the retrieval of his motorized scooter from Gabriel House last week.
'If it wasn't for me putting these sneakers on his feet, he'd still have the ones from the fire on,' Silvia said.
In the fire's aftermath, residents are missing items, ranging from sentimental knick-knacks to daily necessities like hearing aids. There has been no official date or time set for residents to pick up their belongings, according to Ann O'Neil-Souza, chief of staff for Mayor Paul Coogan. If people need certain belongings, they should reach out to the mayor's office, she said.
Donna Murphy, a former resident of Gabriel House who spent a rare evening away from the facility the night of the fire, has been staying with different family members as her family weighs more permanent options, according to her sister Nancy Jones.
Jones said Murphy's granddaughter took a leave from work to care for Murphy, who has dementia and can't be left alone.
'My niece may have to make a decision to either take care of her grandmother, or we're going to have to put her somewhere,' Jones said.
The family was never happy with Gabriel House, but it was the only option they could afford.
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Murphy also had to be hospitalized after a panic attack caused by intense survivor's guilt while processing the incident, which injured and killed several of her friends.
'When she finally sat and thought about everything, it just all caught up,' Jones said. 'She was getting herself all worked up, talking about and losing her friends.'
Like Murphy, many survivors have been mourning the deaths of the 10 residents, whom they called their friends and loved ones. Since the fire, there have been at least two funerals for the victims. Margaret Duddy, 69, was remembered on Tuesday, and Rui Albernaz, 64, was laid to rest Wednesday.
Pimentel's friend Silvia made sure to borrow a van from a friend and drive residents to Albernaz's funeral.
That morning, a hushed silence filled the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Assumption ,as the Albernaz family watched Albernaz's casket get blessed. One of the four pallbearers looked up to the ceiling to avoid tears spilling down his face, and Albernaz's sister sobbed silently over the casket.
The large Portuguese family, with many of Albernaz's siblings, cousins, and nieces and nephews, sat in the first two rows of the church. About 75 community members sat behind them listening as the priest described Albernaz as a 'man full of joy,' who loved to dance and play scratch tickets and who went by 'Rui, Roy, or Buddy.'
At the funeral was Debbie Bigelow, 68, who dated Albernaz for six years. The two met at Gabriel House, and Bigelow 'had my eye on him for a while' before he 'finally came my way.' They'd planned to get married.
Time would fly when the two talked, she said.
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'From the first time I saw him, he was so joyful,' she said. 'He didn't get into fights with other guys.'
They played 'action games' together at the facility, like bean bag toss, to improve their mobility, and did arts and crafts.
Bigelow said she is doing OK after the fire. Like Pimentel, she is staying at Fall River HealthCare for at least another week, and then, she doesn't know where she will be placed.
Bigelow has family members who have been supporting her through the transition.
'I don't know,' Bigelow said about where she is going next. 'I don't know.'
Ava Berger can be reached at
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I worked a lunch shift at Woodman's of Essex and survived
I worked a lunch shift at Woodman's of Essex and survived

Boston Globe

timea day ago

  • Boston Globe

I worked a lunch shift at Woodman's of Essex and survived

'As the tickets come up, you want to check things off,' she explains, arranging a Get Winter Soup Club A six-week series featuring soup recipes and cozy vibes, plus side dishes and toppings, to get us all through the winter. Enter Email Sign Up Orders including clam plates, lobster rolls, and other fried seafood awaited pickup at Woodman's in Essex. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Advertisement I've been on the clock for barely an hour, and I'm already feeling overwhelmed. It seems every ticket has seven plates. I don't know the difference between a scallop boat and a scallop plate, and I'm not sure where the cocktail sauce or oyster crackers are. But there's no time for handholding. Zoe is on to the next order. 'I need a crabmeat roll and a hotdog!' she hollers over her shoulder. This was my idea. Inspired in part by Advertisement Ally Rzesa/Globe Staff 'I'll put you on the window,' the restaurant's co-owner offered. 'You can probably handle that.' I've marveled at Woodman's since my first haddock sandwich and order of steamers at the North Shore landmark 20 years ago. I enjoy the restaurant's A portrait of "Nana Bessie" from circa 1950 hangs among historical displays at Woodman's in Essex. Bessie Woodman, wife of founder Lawrence "Chubby" Woodman, helped develop the first fried clam recipe in 1916 when the couple experimented with different batters after a fisherman jokingly suggested they fry clams like potato chips. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Maggie Reynolds (left) and Chanelle Jordan-Davis fill plates with fried food at Woodman's of Essex. They are "do-up girls," who quickly pile cardboard plates with fried clams, scallops, and other seafood from giant steel colanders, working in overdrive to keep up with customer demand. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Mostly, though, I just appreciate the hustle of the place. From the instant the doors open at 11 a.m., business can be extraordinarily brisk, and it's remarkable to watch plate after heaping plate emerge from a cramped kitchen staffed mostly by kids – many of them fourth- and fifth-generation Woodmans – doing a sweaty job for minimum wage. (Employees also get deep discounts on most menu items and eat mistakes for free.) Touting my experience – I'd spent a year in my 20s frying tater tots and churros at a Taco John's in Iowa City – I wanted to work the fryer. But Woodman, whose husband, Doug, is the youngest of 'Chubby' Woodman's 14 grandchildren, balked. I'm glad she did. When I arrive for my shift, I find head fryer Bobby Barrett dredging a batch of clams in a tub of corn flour. He's surrounded by scalding fryolators – 11 of them – and four coworkers who narrowly avoid each other as they drop endless baskets of clams, scallops, shrimp, haddock, fries, and onion rings into the cauldrons of lard. Advertisement Head fryer Bobby Barrett checks the order screen while working among the 11 scalding fryolators in Woodman's cramped kitchen in Essex. Erin Clark/Globe Staff 'It's a dance,' Barrett says, his right ankle bandaged as a result of a recent burn. 'You gotta have eyes in the back of your head.' That's not a superpower I possess, so in my white apron and mandatory Woodman's T-shirt and cap, I join Zoe at the window. She warns me the kitchen can get oppressively hot – the temperature has topped 125 degrees at times this summer – but it's a mere 97 degrees at the moment. 'I'm OK with that,' I say, lying. There are a dozen of us in the galley kitchen: a towheaded teen taking orders; me and Zoe; four fry cooks; three 'do-up girls' scooping just-fried seafood from giant steel colanders using a slotted utensil that resembles a 'Game of Thrones' weapon; the 'grill guy' cooking hotdogs, hamburgers, and chicken; the 'backup girl' who hurries to butter and grill rolls and fill chowders; the steamer; and a dishwasher. The goal is to get the food out as fast as possible, but sloppiness, I'm instructed, is a no-no. Sean Doherty smiles at his daughter, Bailey, 3, while having lunch with his family, which also includes his son, Jason, 3, and wife, Cari, at Woodman's in Essex. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Cooked lobsters sit on ice at Woodman's in Essex. Erin Clark/Globe Staff 'Every time you drop a clam on the floor, you're dropping a dollar bill,' says Woodman. 'When the clam goes from the bed to the shucker to the fridge to the fryer to the counter to the customer – what do you think that costs?' Clams are indeed a precious commodity, especially during the summer when increased demand strains finite supply. (On the North Shore alone, Advertisement The result is higher prices for customers – a clam plate at Woodman's (which comes with ample fries and onion rings) costs $40.99 at the moment – and yet people still make the pilgrimage. 'It's a destination,' Andrew Krivak, a Somerville writer having lunch with his wife and three teenage children, tells me. 'We go to Crane Beach in the morning, Russell Orchard to get doughnut, and then Woodman's for lunch. That's the ritual.' Mollusks are on menus from Maryland to Santa Monica, but the soft-shell clams harvested from nutrient-rich mud flats in Massachusetts and Maine are a singular, to-die-for delicacy. 'They literally take in bits of their environment and make it part of their belly,' says the Boston-born Charlie Mannal takes orders at the register during the lunch rush on Saturday, July 12, at Woodman's of Essex. Erin Clark/Globe Staff My shift ends when no one is waiting to order, so, warily, I wander outside to inspect the line. Not too bad for a Saturday afternoon; the queue can sometimes stretch 100 yards down Main Street. On particularly hot days, customers will collapse on the sidewalk or inside the restaurant (there's no air conditioning at Woodman's). It happens about a dozen times a summer, says Eian Woodman, Doug's nephew. 'They come off the beach after drinking beer all day and they wonder why they don't feel good.' As a result, Woodman's started setting up an outdoor 'hospitality table' with free water and oyster crackers. Advertisement 'We feel bad that you're in the line. We really do,' says Maureen Woodman. 'But it's the heartbeat of the business. We'd probably feel worse if there wasn't a line.' The 'do-up girls' are now in overdrive, quickly piling cardboard plates with fried goodness and passing them to me and Zoe. Even as she's rushing to fill trays and call tickets – '671! 672!' – I can tell Zoe is keeping an eye on me. Sending out wrong or incomplete orders is another no-no. Most customers are at tables waiting to hear their number called, but some aren't; they're standing near the counter staring expectantly at every tray. It's unnerving. I'm reminded of the unblinking gulls at Good Harbor Beach that wait for people to drop a potato chip in the sand. Globe reporter Mark Shanahan works the pickup window during his shift at Woodman's in Essex. He embedded with the restaurant's crew to experience firsthand the demanding work in the cramped kitchen, which is staffed mostly by young workers, many of them fifth-generation Woodmans. Erin Clark/Globe Staff In all, 34 Woodmans, ages 14 to 74, currently work at the restaurant, but this isn't ' clam -pire. 'We're so ingrained to be respectful of the previous generations,' says Kristi Swett, a 'G5' (fifth-generation) Woodman whose first job, at 12, was helping her grandmother, Patti, a 'G3,' file invoices. At 42, Swett oversees the restaurant's robust catering business and new 'There are enough headaches that everyone can have four a day,' she says, laughing. Finally, at 3 p.m., no one is at the register. I race to untie my apron before anyone walks in the door. Done! Erica Woodman, a 'G4' who has been toasting the top-split hot dog buns used for lobster rolls, thinks I got off easy. Advertisement 'Today's busy, but not crazy,' she says. 'Crazy is nonstop tickets – like, nonstop . No break. But you get the idea.' Brian Williams displays a lobster tattoo on his arm while working at the lobster tank outside Woodman's in Essex. Williams has worked at the restaurant since he was a teenager. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Mark Shanahan can be reached at

Fall River firefighters: ‘There are no words for what I've seen'
Fall River firefighters: ‘There are no words for what I've seen'

Boston Globe

time2 days ago

  • Boston Globe

Fall River firefighters: ‘There are no words for what I've seen'

The Fall River fire, Advertisement Many of the survivors, some of whom have severe medical needs and are on Medicaid, are scattered in assisted-living facilities across Eastern Massachusetts and are unsure what their future holds. The fire has raised questions When the firefighters gathered together this past week, their shared bond was at the forefront of their minds. They greeted each other with handshakes, back slaps, and inside jokes in a firehouse kitchen. But quickly, they shifted to mournful, head-shaking recollections of what each of them had experienced in the worst fire they had fought. Evangelista, 29, recalled that he had been responding to an overdose when the alarm sounded about 9:30 p.m. for a fire at Gabriel House. Immediately, he shifted priorities and rushed to the three-story, horseshoe-shaped building not far from the city center. Advertisement Michael Viveiros, aboard Ladder 2, recalled being startled when he wheeled onto Oliver Street and saw the building engulfed in fire and smoke — but no people. He realized immediately that the situation was dire, and that few people, if any, had yet evacuated. Many of the 69 residents there were dependent on wheelchairs. 'The thought process was we have to get it done and get it done quickly,' said Viveiros, 42. 'Your adrenaline kicks in, and you want to do things you shouldn't.' They found flames spouting from the front of the building, and, knowing people were on all three floors, urgently called for reinforcements. 'I kept thinking we need more help,' said District Chief David Jennings Jr., one of the commanders at the scene. 'For a while, we were dealing with just eight guys.' Eventually, about 35 firefighters responded. Once the residents realized help had arrived, they began shouting from their windows, pleading for their lives as smoke billowed behind them. Another district chief yelled, 'We need 120 percent! This is what we train for,' the firefighters said. Evangelista recalled thinking, 'This isn't what you train for. It was one person and then another person' — unlike many house fires that affect only a few people. Complicating the response at Gabriel House was the large number of residents with medical needs, some of them severe. 'Some guys went in with hoses, and some guys went in to do the rescues,' said C.J. Ponte, a 21-year department veteran who drove Engine 9 to the blaze. Other firefighters grabbed ground ladders and began slapping them against the walls. Advertisement 'Then there's the worst decision: Which one is in the most danger?' Viveiros said. Jose Fletcher, a 33-year-old firefighter, said the scene shifted by the second, with another life to be saved, another challenge, and another snap decision about what to do amid the chaos. 'We started to evacuate people, and it was like Whac-A-Mole,' Fletcher said. One person would be carried down a ladder, and then another would be spotted. On and on. In one rescue, Fletcher dropped his oxygen tank to conserve energy, climbed a ladder, and struggled to extract a large woman from a small window. 'The windows weren't made to pull people out of, and she was fighting me the whole time,' Fletcher recalled. She pushed against his oxygen mask in panic, preventing Fletcher from breathing. He ripped the mask off despite the choking smoke, grabbed her in a bear hug, and slowly carried her down the ladder amid the frenzy. After bringing her to safety, Fletcher slumped to the ground exhausted, only to discover that he couldn't get up. Not until later did Fletcher learn he had dislocated his right knee. 'We got back here at 2:30 [a.m.],' Fletcher said in the firehouse, 'trying to figure out how we just did what we did.' Evangelista said the rescues continued unabated for about an hour. 'It was a grab and go. Bring them out and go back,' he said. 'Some of them were definitely on their last breath. But you ignore what else is around you and just focus on what's happening in front of you.' Advertisement In one rescue, a makeshift pulley was put together to lower a resident estimated to weigh 400 pounds. In others, firefighters laid victims across their outstretched arms as they grabbed the sides of their ladders and descended rung by rung to safety. Some Fire Department drivers left their vehicles, wearing only a department T-shirt, to enter the burning building and search for victims. One such driver was Nathanial Anderson, 43, an Army combat veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan who drove Ladder 2. 'I saw heads popping out windows, and I could hear the screams. You couldn't sit outside and do nothing,' Anderson said. 'Every voice you could hear you knew needed help.' So inside he went, with no oxygen tank or other gear, looking to clear residents from the second and third floors of one wing. He burst through emergency doors with a sledgehammer, scouring the smoke-choked corridors and rooms for victims. 'I kept telling him to leave, but he wouldn't listen,' Evangelista said. When Anderson reached the third floor, he could advance only two rooms down a pitch-black corridor. 'I couldn't take the smoke and the heat there,' said Anderson, who was forced to retreat. In all, Anderson carried six residents to safety — 'some were still vocal, some were fading' — as he returned again and again to join his comrades. Fire Chief Jeffrey Bacon, in a later news conference, choked up with emotion when recalling Anderson's bravery. 'This was the worst-case scenario of what you can possibly expect from a fire,' said Michael O'Reagan, president of Local 1314 of the International Association of Fire Fighters. Advertisement A day after the fire, Edward Kelly, general president of the International Association of Fire Fighters, alleged that Fall River's firetrucks were understaffed. More victims might have lived, he said, had each truck had four firefighters — a claim quickly dismissed by Bacon as 'speculation.' Mayor Paul Coogan said city officials have decided that an additional four trucks will have a minimum of four firefighters. At the time of the fire, two of the 10 fire companies in Fall River were staffed with four firefighters, which is the national safety standard. The city also said it will have 38 firefighters working each shift, an increase from 35. O'Reagan said more staffing is needed for the Fire Department, but on this day, the focus centered on lifesaving drama that unfolded with the personnel available. 'I don't think a single person here thinks of himself as a hero,' Ponte said. 'It's not a job, it's a calling. It's something everyone here wanted to do.' Bacon said the death toll could have been several times higher if not for the quick, efficient, and effective response of Fall River's firefighters, five of whom suffered minor injuries. About 30 residents of Gabriel House were also injured. Following the fire, the crews returned to their stations, processing what they had just witnessed, but prepared to go out again if needed. Jennings said he continues to second-guess whether other decisions could have been made at the fire. 'We beat ourselves up,' Jennings said. 'What could we have done better? Maybe another decision could have gotten to another window.' For these firefighters, the memory of Gabriel House will be indelible. 'I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with it. I feel something's off,' Evangelista said, speaking slowly and carefully. 'I'm not a guy who talks about emotion, who shows emotion, but this goes to show what we saw that night.' Advertisement 'This will forever change the way we operate,' he said. 'The next call, will it be as big as this one?' Brian MacQuarrie can be reached at

In Fall River, a hellish nightmare of a fire
In Fall River, a hellish nightmare of a fire

Boston Globe

time3 days ago

  • Boston Globe

In Fall River, a hellish nightmare of a fire

Some residents were already in bed and panic quickly set in as some felt trapped in their rooms. Many were elderly, and some were in wheelchairs or had limited mobility or other health complications. Terrified residents made multiple 911 calls, fearful they were going to die surrounded by flames and smoke. Advertisement A desperate race to save lives The first firefighters were dispatched at 9:39 p.m. and arrived in five minutes. Fire was visible, and plumes of toxic, black smoke billowed from the building on Oliver Street; residents were hanging out of the windows, desperate to be rescued. 'It's the Gabriel House, it's completely up in flames,' one first responder reported to dispatch. By then police officers were also inside, combing through the building to get residents to leave. 'We need you out!' shouted one officer at 9:44 p.m., according to body camera footage. 'There's a huge fire. Big fire.' Advertisement wistia-player[media-id='pdtgzsbh0u']:not(:defined) { background: center / contain no-repeat url(' display: block; filter: blur(5px); padding-top:56.25%; } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Regular; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Bold; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } .creditcopy2 { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Regular", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; line-height : 1.2; font-size: .8750em; letter-spacing: .25px; color: #333; padding: 3px 0px; } .creditcopy2 span { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Bold", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; font-size: 1em; } .creditcopy2 { font-size: .8750em; } .creditcopy2 span { font-size: .8750em; } } In police body camera footage, first responders help a person escape the smoke from Gabriel House. (Randy Vazquez/Globe staff) This reconstruction of the deadliest fire in Massachusetts since 1984 is based on interviews with more than 20 people who were at the scene, including many residents, interviews with former workers of Gabriel House, police body cam footage, recordings of public safety dispatches, and other official sources. Visibility was near zero as smoke rapidly filled the building. People were screaming for help; some stayed in their rooms and called loved ones, some invoked the Almighty, and some were able to break open windows on their own or were rescued when firefighters tore apart windows and doors to get people out. For 68-year-old Debbie Bigelow, escape came with a bang on her door and first responders yelling for her to 'Get out!' She was barefoot and dressed only in a nightgown; they led her out an emergency door and then wrapped blankets around her shoulders to keep her warm. 'I'm glad it was in the summer and not in the winter,' Bigelow said. The fire would claim the life of her longtime boyfriend, Rui Albernaz. 'He didn't get burnt, did he?' she asked the official who told her Albernaz died in the blaze. 'I don't like smoke inhalation either, but getting burnt and flames, that's terrible.' She described Albernaz as joyful and charming. He didn't get into arguments at Gabriel House like other residents, she said. They had no secrets, and she hoped they would marry one day. 'I miss him,' she said this week after a funeral Mass for Albernaz. In her room at Fall River HealthCare, Debbie Bigelow held up the funeral card for Gabriel House resident Rui A. Albernaz, who died in the fire. Suzanne Kreiter/Globe Staff Like Albernaz, Gabriel House residents were typical New Englanders. One man visited a local Dunkin' so frequently staff knew his regular order: a croissant sandwich and iced coffee. Others were Vietnam War veterans, one would be later described as a 'tough cookie' with a robust sense of humor and another would be eulogized for his warmth and keen social intelligence. A great-grandmother was recalled as Advertisement Among the 10 who died from the fire was an 86-year-old grandmother, Eleanor Willett, who had lived at Gabriel House for just shy of a year. For as long as Willett lived in room C15, one of its two windows didn't function properly, said her granddaughter, Holly Mallowes. 'They were supposed to fix it, and they never did,' said Mallowes. 'So that window wouldn't open.' Many other rooms, meanwhile, had air-conditioning units in their windows, which complicated rescue efforts. Hearing that people were trapped on the third floor, one Fall River fire captain rushed into the burning building without an air tank and kicked in a door. There were bodies in some of the rooms, he would later say. Clues emerge in a complex investigation Some residents said they saw sprinklers go off in some parts of the building but not others. The owner of Gabriel House would later say the sprinkler system was checked just days before the fatal inferno, and a maintenance worker said that smoke alarms were updated in recent weeks. The annual fire inspection of Gabriel House, which includes checking the sprinkler system, was completed on Aug. 9, 2024, according to public records. The fire alarms passed inspection on Aug. 7, 2024, the fire department said. The cause of the fire is thought to be accidental and not suspicious, authorities have said. This week, authorities zeroed in on one room, on the east side of the building, where they found 'numerous smoking materials' and an oxygen concentrator, a medical device that increases the amount of oxygen in the air a patient breathes but can fuel flames when exposed to embers. Advertisement Investigators have declined to identify the room or the residents who lived there. Additionally, Jeffrey Bacon, the Fall River fire chief, said he was 'interested' to learn how smoke infiltrated the other side of the building so heavily. Smoking inside the facility was common, according to those who lived and worked there. Residents would often sneak into the bathroom to smoke a cigarette, according to one worker. A former worker, meanwhile, said she once walked into a room to find a bed in flames. 'I dreaded a building fire,' said Bianca DeJesus, who worked at Gabriel House as a certified nursing assistant and dietary aide from 2019 until last fall. Fall River Mayor Paul Coogan said he was told by Gabriel House owner Dennis D. Etzkorn that smoking was not permitted inside the building and that residents caught smoking inside had been fined in the past. There was a designated smoking area outside. One former resident said the $25 fine did not deter some residents from smoking inside. Fall River Fire Chief Jeffrey Bacon (center) along with police, fire investigators, and a priest (left) gathered at the entrance to the Gabriel House Assisted Living facility on Oliver Street in Fall River Monday morning. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE In one lawsuit filed since the fire, a lawyer for one resident who allegedly lost consciousness during the fire, said smoke alarms went off regularly at Gabriel House and the facility lacked an 'effective evacuation plan.' 'So when the smoke alarms went off, it was almost just another day, and there was no effective plan to say, 'Hey, this one's real. You got to get out,'' said attorney Robin Gouveia. Advertisement An Etzkorn spokesman, George K. Regan Jr., said Tuesday in response to the lawsuit: 'In this situation, there is nothing else to say.' Etzkorn himself has not granted interviews since the fire. But on Friday he released a statement through Regan that spoke of the 'unimaginable pain and the ultimate loss' of the 10 victims and their family members. 'My sole concerns, and only responsibilities continue to be helping authorities determine all the facts and circumstances of this tragedy, as well as establishing a system to help these families recover their loved ones' possessions,' said Etzkorn, adding that he expected all possessions would be returned to residents by the end of next week. 'All that matters right now is getting to the bottom of why this happened and helping our residents' loved ones in this darkest of times.' 'I thought this was it': Residents recall terror and rescues Ernest Coupe, whose health issues over the years included a bout with oral cancer that requires him to use a feeding tube, was on the floor of his bathroom in Gabriel House as the facility filled with smoke. He previously was instructed to stay in his room in the case of a fire and to close the door. That's what he did. He called his ex-wife, Kathy St. Pierre, saying he was going to die. Smoke was filling up his room and he was choking. He was not strong enough to push his air conditioner out of his window. Ultimately, firefighters were able to break the window and pull Coupe to safety. Scott Allan, 63, lived on the bottom floor. He awoke when he heard knocking at the door — firefighters with axes were trying to get in. Advertisement 'Lots of flames,' he said, 'coming out of these windows out front, flames coming out of the porch.' In those initial moments, the smoke was so thick some firefighters could not see their hands in front of their faces. Neal Beck sat in his room at Fall River HealthCare on July 24. He was displaced by the Gabriel House fire. Suzanne Kreiter/Globe Staff Neal Beck was in bed in his third-floor room when the fire alarms went off. Opening his door, he found the 'whole place is full of smoke' and smelled of burnt rugs and plastic. He thought about jumping out the window, but then firefighters climbed up a ladder, broke the window, and pulled him out. 'God was on my side and I was able to get out,' Beck said. Lorraine Ferrara, a 71-year-old resident of Gabriel House for eight months, was on the second floor when a worker 'banged' on her door. When she opened it, the smoke 'blew me back,' she said. Ferrara could not get to the exit, and her room was quickly filling with smoke, she said. She grabbed a towel and covered her nose. 'I thought I was going to die,' she said. 'I thought this was it.' She was eventually carried out of the room by a firefighter on a ladder who broke through her window to pull her out. She doesn't remember being carried out of the building, and when she came to, she was across the street looking back at the chaos. 'It was just a nightmare,' she said. 'All the ambulances and firetrucks. People screaming. It was crazy.' Meanwhile, at a nearby house, Cleber Parra, 40, was playing volleyball with a group of his friends in his backyard when he heard sirens and saw red and blue emergency lights bouncing off the buildings of his neighborhood. At first, he thought 'it was nothing crazy,' because he usually sees the Fire Department respond quickly. But he soon realized the situation was more serious when he could hear people calling for help. Cleber Parra (left) and his brother-in-law Danny Auqui sat on the steps of their home near Gabriel House assisted living facility. The two men helped rescue residents during the deadly fire after hearing cries for help while playing late-night volleyball in their backyard. Erin Clark/Globe Staff A construction worker, Parra grabbed two ladders from atop a van and ran toward the Gabriel House, placing them along the right side of the building. He climbed up one, and saw an old man through the window. 'He looked just scared, like he was thinking he was going to die over there,' Parra said from his front porch, the assisted living facility just behind his house. At first, Parra broke the windows using his hands. Then a firefighter took over and switched places with him only to struggle to get the resident out of the window.. The firefighter 'tried to pull the old man out, but he can't,' Parra said. 'The old man is heavy.' It was a team effort. The firefighter climbed through the window and hoisted the resident out so Parra could bring him down the ladder. 'He's a little hard to bring down, because it's an old man,' Parra said. 'I brought (him) down, and my other friend brought down another person from another window.' wistia-player[media-id='hg9fi34p1v']:not(:defined) { background: center / contain no-repeat url(' display: block; filter: blur(5px); padding-top:56.25%; } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Regular; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Bold; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } .creditcopy2 { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Regular", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; line-height : 1.2; font-size: .8750em; letter-spacing: .25px; color: #333; padding: 3px 0px; } .creditcopy2 span { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Bold", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; font-size: 1em; } .creditcopy2 { font-size: .8750em; } .creditcopy2 span { font-size: .8750em; } } In police body camera footage, firefighters are seen rescuing an unidentified person from Gabriel House. (Randy Vazquez/Globe staff) An unthinkable loss of life A neighbor, Peter Primo, 69, said the scene he saw when he stepped onto his porch was so nightmarish that he can't imagine ever forgetting it. 'It was like my Blizzard of '78,' he added. 'You'll never forget where you were when this [expletive] happens.' There was smoke everywhere and against this murky backdrop frenzied scenes of firefighters in motion. 'They're breaking the windows,' Primo said. 'They were pulling people, you could hear the firemen, 'Watch my light, follow my light. I need a stretcher up here.' It was crazy.' Primo said air conditioners were falling out of some windows but that 'too many' were still in place and blocking the rescue efforts. An air conditioner was in the charred window of the Gabriel House facility on July 14. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE 'And the most morbid part was when they were bringing the bodies, and they were putting them in the back there,' Primo added. 'It was just, 'wow.' Playing out right under your nose.' Primo saw five bodies moved to a tent behind Gabriel House. At the scene, survivors and neighbors were in tears. 'It's still the somber scent that lingers,' Primo said. 'Ten people, not two, not three, but 10. Those people had every intention of waking up the next day, and it didn't happen.' Ken Medeiros, who lives directly behind Gabriel House, recalled looking out his back window around 9:50 p.m. to see flashing lights from firetrucks. The 70-year-old Medeiros went out to his backyard and watched as evacuated residents from the facility stood in groups in a parking lot across the street. He saw ladders propped against the side of the building, but no one was being evacuated at that point. There were no flames at the moment, but the smoke made everything 'hazy.' Unlike more modern nursing homes and higher-end assisted living facilities, Gabriel House was in an older building dating to the 1960s that once was a motel. Medeiros remembered once visiting a friend and noticing there were individual air conditioners in every window. A resident of the Gabriel House reacted after being evacuated after the fire late Sunday night. MARK STOCKWELL FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE 'That was their only way out,' Medeiros said of the windows. 'Picture a jail cell with one way out.' Still, body cam footage shows the many ways first responders did find a way to evacuate most of the residents. Through a thick haze that Fire Chief Bacon described as 'toxic,' some residents were thrown over shoulders, others wheeled out in their wheelchairs; another was taken down the stairs in a stretcher after being instructed to lay down as if they were sledding on a toboggan. Exhaustion sets in One resident who was using a walker and oxygen tank trundled onto a porch of the facility as smoke poured out of a doorway. An officer dove through a window to check a room for residents. A firefighter split open another entryway with an axe. At 9:54 p.m., some police could be seen crawling underneath the smoke, according to body camera footage. Officers could be heard grunting with physical exertion as they carried people down flights of stairs, alarms chirping in the background. wistia-player[media-id='522ebre8tu']:not(:defined) { background: center / contain no-repeat url(' display: block; filter: blur(5px); padding-top:56.25%; } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Regular; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } @font-face { font-family: BentonSansCond-Bold; src: url(" format('woff2'), url(" format('woff'); } .creditcopy2 { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Regular", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; line-height : 1.2; font-size: .8750em; letter-spacing: .25px; color: #333; padding: 3px 0px; } .creditcopy2 span { font-family : "BentonSansCond-Bold", "Impact", "Arial Narrow", "Helvetica", sans-serif; font-size: 1em; } .creditcopy2 { font-size: .8750em; } .creditcopy2 span { font-size: .8750em; } } In police body camera footage, first responders break open a door and are confronted with smoke. (Randy Vazquez/Globe staff) At 9:55 p.m., some police officers had walked out onto a porch and were bent over, wretching and coughing from the smoke. 'Cover your mouth if you can,' one officer said in the video. At a little after 10 p.m., Fall River fire chaplain the Rev. Michael Racine arrived at the scene. He administered the sacrament of the sick, a Roman Catholic ritual, to five people pulled out of the building, he said. All were deceased. One person was carried down a ladder in a stretcher but was already dead, Racine was told. He found himself in an area near the facility that was turned into a makeshift morgue. First responders would stand by the bodies until they could be moved later in the night. 'I use the term 'organized chaos' because it was,' he said. 'It's a very chaotic situation because there's a lot going on. You had firefighters putting out the fire, and you had a ton of firefighters and police officers bringing victims out, both alive and deceased.' Amid the public safety jargon on the crackling audio, dispatch recordings capture the urgency of those rescue efforts. 'We got to get to the far room,' one firefighter said sometime after 10 p.m., clearly out of breath. A reply came across the radio that the room would be reached using a ladder. Another request surged through the airwaves: 'I need a paramedic and stretcher to the rear of the building immediately.' Then yet another: 'Get as many medical rescues to this location as soon as possible.' One resident described firefighters and police officers with ripped uniforms, bloodied and covered in soot. The fire would eventually reach five alarms and require help from neighboring communities. It would take about an hour to bring it under control, according to Fall River officials. The last of the more than 30 injured residents would eventually be sent to the hospital later in the night. At 10:32 p.m., a police supervisor took roll call to account for all the responding officers. 'We have everybody.' Flowers, photographs, and memorial items were placed along the chain-link fence surrounding Gabriel House on July 23. Erin Clark/Globe Staff Ken Mahan and Christopher Gavin of the Globe staff and Globe correspondents Maria Probert and Angela Mathew contributed to this report. Graphics by John Hancock/Globe staff. Video production by Randy Vazquez/Globe staff. Danny McDonald can be reached at

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