The Fire Chief, the Hurricane, and the Propane Tank That Changed Everything
Hurricane Helene hit hard — and somehow, out of the three states impacted, South Carolina was the only one who didn’t get an emergency propane waiver. It was the wrong call, and it lit something in me. I’d never marched myself into LLR in Columbia before, but that day I did. I showed up, I spoke up, and I didn’t sugarcoat. Imagine that.
Sitting on that board was Fire Chief Anthony Segars of the Belmont Fire Department.
After the meeting, he walked straight up to me — calm, curious, and clearly amused that I’d just popped off. We talked, exchanged cards, and went on with our lives. I didn’t think much of it or that much would come of it.
Boy was I wrong.
Months later, my phone rang. Chief Segars wanted to know how I felt about building a prop propane tank for his training facility. Something we had never built before.
I didn’t even blink. I said yes.
Then I built the dream team:
Ray Carver, the equipment whisperer from Garner Marsh
Keith Lawton, my rock‑solid head service tech
Bradley Browning, the brilliant mind behind Upstate Heavy Equipment Repair
We were ready to make something incredible. And then life threw a punch.
The Night Everything Went Sideways
The night before we were supposed to set the tank off, Keith called me — late. His grandson and three others were missing in Caesars Head State Park. Lost. No contact. No updates. Just fear.
Every time Keith called me from the woods, the fear in his voice butted me. It was awful. It was helpless. It was one of those moments where work doesn’t matter, deadlines don’t matter — only people matter. Every time he called from the woods, my heart broke a little more.
And in the middle of that heartache, the person keeping me updated wasn’t a dispatcher or a news alert.
It was Chief Segars. The same man I met because I marched into LLR to complain -was calling me constantly. He had direct lines to the emergency teams. He offered to take me into the locked‑down park so I could be with Keith. He didn’t owe me that. He didn’t owe us anything. But he showed up anyway.
And then — in a moment I’ll never forget — he was the first person to tell me they’d been found. Alive.
I stood there thinking: I met this man because I marched into Columbia to raise hell about a bad decision… and now he’s the one walking you through one of the scariest moments your employee has ever faced.
Life is wild.
The Fireball That Started It All
When we finally got to test the tank, I was a mess of nerves. Would it work? Would it sputter? Would it blow up too much? Too little? Would we look like idiots?
And then — boom. The most gorgeous fireball I’ve ever seen. The kind that makes your stomach drop and your pride swell at the same time.
We were invited to watch the first live training with the tank with their recruits. It was intense and incredible. Real fire changes people. It sharpens them. It humbles them. It teaches them faster than any classroom ever could.
Bob Neuer, Belmont’s training coordinator, told me this kind of live-fire experience shapes their firefighters in ways they can’t replicate. One trainee came up to Bob and I afterward, eyes bright like he’d just found his calling, and said:
“This is the coolest thing ever.”
I looked at Bob and said, “He’ll be back tomorrow.” Bob just nodded.
The Full-Circle Moment I’ll Never Forget
A couple months later, Chief Segars invited Keith and me to Belmont’s Banquet Dinner. We went — no idea what was coming.
Not only did Belmont honor us with an award for being community partners… but Keith got to meet the two emergency service directors who worked the search for his grandson.
It was emotional. It was grounding. It was one of those moments where pride, gratitude, and disbelief all hit at once.
All of this — the hurricane, the frustration, the fire chief, the tank we’d never built, the terrifying night in Caesars Head, the fireball, the trainees, the award — it all wove together into a story I couldn’t have scripted if I tried.
Sometimes you show up angry about a bad decision….and life hands you a chain of moments that remind you exactly why you fight for your industry, your people, and your community.