I enjoy reading non-fiction books, specifically True Crime and Biographies. Joe McGinnis and Joseph Wambaugh are two of my favorite authors, so when I ran across this book in pristine condition, for 49 cents at a resale place in Pottsboro, I snagged it. I didn't even read the back cover, I just saw Wambaugh and "A True Story" and that did it for me.
Turns out I have seen several shows about this very subject.
From the back cover:
From master crime writer Joseph Wambaugh, the acclaimed author of such classics as The Onion Field and The Choirboys, comes the extraordinary true story of a firefighter who may have been, according to U.S. government profilers, "the most prolific American arsonist of the twentieth century."
Growing up in Los Angeles, John Orr would watch in awe as firefighters scrambled to put out blazes with seeming disregard for their own lives. One day he would become a fireman himself, and a good one. As a member of the Glendale Fire Department, he rose through the ranks, eventually becoming a fire captain and one of southern California's best-known and most-respected arson investigators, as well as a writer of firefighting articles and finally of a fact-based novel. But there was another, unseen life, one that included many women, a need for risk, and a hunger for recognition.
While Orr busted a string of petty arsonists, there was one serial criminal he could not track down. The fire lover used the same simple yet devastating device and was unerring in his execution. His lethal handiwork led to the death of four innocent people and countless millions of dollars worth of property damage. Homes, retail stores during business hours, fields of dry brush in stifling summer heat -- little was safe from his obsession to see them burn.
The suspect in these devastating crimes was shocking to say the least, and hundreds of fires can probably be attributed to this one arsonist. The criminal's target of choice was large building supply and grocery stores, usually concrentrating on using a "delay device" to catch piles of foam pillows on fire. Once started, these fires raced out of control, and fire doors slammed shut. Fire doors were designed to fall once the fire reached a certain temperature, thereby trapping the fire within the store and not letting it spread to nearby businesses. These doors were installed with the thinking that any fire that occurred during business hours would be found and put out before the doors activated. Fires that happened after hours would be happening in a deserted store, so the fire doors coming down would not trap anyone. With an arsonist loose and setting rapidly spreading fires during the day in open stores full of customers, the fire doors did nothing but trap those trying to escape. Early on, when one of the fires claimed four lives, it was deemed accidental, but that came into question later as devices were located and found to be the cause of the fires.
I read this book very quickly and Wambaugh did not disappoint. He wrote just enough about the backgrounds of all the main characters to make you connect with them, but not too much to make your eyes glaze over. This very complicated story was very easy to follow due to his thorough explanations that allowed you to picture what was happening. This is a classic case of finding the answers in the last place you would expect. Orr desperately wanted to be a police officer all of his adult life, but felt that he "settled" for being a fireman after failing several police related tests. He made his way up through the ranks to Captain, but seemed to want to outwit the police as he constantly horned in on their cases trying to show his expertise.
When it was learned that he had written a manuscript using many facts from cases on which he'd been a part of, the pieces began to fall into place. Upon thoroughly reading the manuscript, police and prosecutors found a roadmap of probable arsons by this one person. Cold cases were reopened and investigated and found to be attributed to arson, charges were filed and finally someone was brought to justice. Such a tragedy.
