5 years later, ‘Mulchie' still casts a pall The legal disputes over fire in giant Helotes mulch pile haven't been settled.

Workers stand on top of the giant smoldering pile of debris on Wednesday February 14, 2007. Workers stand on top of the giant smoldering pile of debris on Wednesday February 14, 2007. Photo: JOHN DAVENPORT, SAN ANTONIO EXPRESS-NEWS Photo: JOHN DAVENPORT, SAN ANTONIO EXPRESS-NEWS Image 1 of / 8 Caption Close 5 years later, ‘Mulchie' still casts a pall 1 / 8 Back to Gallery

It burned for three months, sending thick, choking smoke and ash into the air, driving residents from their homes, forcing school closures and ultimately costing taxpayers $5.8 million to extinguish.

But the Helotes mulch fire, which sparked to life on Christmas night five years ago, wasn't just an environmental disaster. The hulking 8-story-high pile of brush and debris also took on a cyberspace life of its own, inspiring a nickname — Mulchie — worldwide news coverage, odes in poem and song, YouTube videos, merchandise, even its own MySpace page.

Its glory days as an Internet darling have faded, and the site itself now is just a grass-covered field.

Also just a memory is the rancorous finger- pointing, as local and state agencies muddled through who was responsible for putting out the fire on the edge of the recharge zone of the Edwards Aquifer, the main source of drinking water for more than 1.5 million people.

But the tangle of lawsuits filed in its wake has largely lived on.

The state just settled its case against the pile's owner, Henry L. Zumwalt, earlier this month, and Bexar County's suit seeking reimbursement for the $250,000 it shelled out to house vulnerable residents away from the smoke could be settled next month. But Zumwalt's suit against the San Antonio Water System is under appeal, effectively putting on hold the Edwards Aquifer Authority's suit against Zumwalt.

The fire also wrought permanent changes to state law. In 2007, Gov. Rick Perry signed a bill that limited the size of piles and added fire lanes, plus gave the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality the authority to respond to such fires and recover expenses from the facility's owner.

The TCEQ and the Edwards Aquifer Authority also tightened regulations relating to brush piles and hazardous materials stored above the recharge zone.

“There were a lot of lessons learned,” said state Sen. Leticia Van de Putte, whose district's western boundary abutted the fire. She recalled tension-filled days as officials hashed out who was in charge and who might be liable, then struggled to come up with a plan to put out the fire without fouling the aquifer.

“No one knew how to do it over such an environmentally sensitive area,” she said, “and we just couldn't leave it to chance.”

Mulchie's history

Road contractor Zumwalt began acquiring brush at his property off FM 1560 outside of Helotes in 1981, according to reports at the time. He collected it from area developers and ground it into mulch, much of which he used as erosion control on his ranches.

For most of that time, there was little or no regulation governing such operations. The rules that applied when the fire broke out went into effect in 2002, but lacked any strict limits on the size or volume of piles.

Van de Putte said that lack of regulation was a conscious decision on the part of lawmakers, who hoped to encourage recycling efforts.

Neighbors who lived near the growing pile worried for years it might ignite, complaining periodically to the TCEQ. The pile had been on the agency's radar since at least 2002, but no violations were ever found. By Christmas night in 2006, the pile was estimated to be 80 feet high and 800 feet long.

Early on, Zumwalt, who's now out of the recycling business, claimed the fire was started deliberately, and so he should not be held liable. As evidence, he pointed to a broken lock on his property, but it turned out that fire crews had broken it to get to the fire.

An investigation by the Bexar County Fire Marshal's Office was inconclusive.

At first, Zumwalt tried putting out the fire, and at one point he had more than two dozen earth-moving machines tearing the pile apart.

As the fire raged on, sending lung-choking smoke into the air and coating everything around with a fine coat of gray ash, Helotes' then-Mayor Jon Allan called a state of emergency, meeting almost daily with local and state officials to determine who would put out the fire, and who would pay.

He was quickly frustrated.

“Everyone seems to be passing the buck, dragging their feet and saying it is not in their jurisdiction to deal with the fire, and it still continues to burn,” he told the San Antonio Express-News after it had been burning for two weeks. “A small-town mayor should not be the one coordinating an effort like this.”

Three years later, Allan would die of a brain tumor at age 57.

The Metropolitan Health District, after first briefly downplaying the effects of the fire, soon called a health advisory. Because the fire was in Bexar County, officials there stepped in, paying to put up hundreds of residents with respiratory and other illnesses in hotels away from the smoke and ash.

Van de Putte praised County Judge Nelson Wolff for trying to keep the political sniping to a minimum while trying to solve all the interlocking problems. She said the pair had a “white hat/black hat” thing going.

“I wore the black hat a lot,” she said.

Blazing legal battles

The TCEQ finally took control, hiring fire suppression experts to battle the blaze, but it would take another two months to put it out. Efforts were halted more than once as contaminated water was found in nearby wells. Clay-lined pits and sluices were built to keep dirty water from seeping through the recharge zone.

By the end of March, the blaze finally was out — but the legal wrangling was just beginning.

Randy Pulman, Zumwalt's attorney, said water never have been used on the pile, which was part of the reason Zumwalt countersued the state, and sued SAWS, which at one point shut off the water supply to firefighters.

Pulman said his client's position was, “We didn't cause that pollution, you did — the TCEQ, Oil Mop and Williams” Fire and Hazard Control, the subcontractors charged with putting out the fire.

The recent settlement with the state shows that with no admission of liability, Zumwalt agreed to pay $1.425 million; some of that went for state attorney fees, the rest to reimburse the cost of the cleanup. If Zumwalt collects any money from other actions, such as an insurance payment, or from his lawsuit against SAWS, he's liable for up to another $4.7 million.

Bexar County is close to signing a deal for an in-kind settlement, said Assistant District Attorney Ed Schweninger, with Zumwalt to do some road and construction work in one of the county's parks.

The suit against SAWS continues. The water utility argued that because it's a government entity, it's protected from lawsuits, and a trial court agreed. Zumwalt appealed, and oral arguments may be heard in the 3rd Court of Appeals in Austin next month.

If the appeal fails, Pulman said, “We'll take it up to the Texas Supreme Court.”

Worldwide infamy

Even as local officials were tearing their hair out trying to figure out how to put out the fire over the aquifer, the pile's star was rising, as the story was picked up by media outlets across the country and as far away as England.

On the once-popular social networking site MySpace, a page to Mulchie sprang up, characterizing it as single, male Capricorn, who loved the movie “Backdraft.”

A local man created a spoof webpage, MyMulchFire.com, where visitors created poems to the pile, conducted fake interviews and offered not a few solutions on how to tackle the towering inferno. A notable one: bringing in martial arts star Chuck Norris to karate the pile into submission.

The pile even spawned its own product line of shirts, mugs and totes. Helotes residents and others snapped up more than a $1,000 worth of merchandise while the fire burned.

Buyers could choose from a variety of slogans, like “Give Your House That Rustic Smoky Aroma We All Love So Much” and “Willie Nelson Coughs Here Every Saturday Night” — a tribute to the historic sign at Helotes' legendary dance hall Floore's Country Store.

Those looking for a trip down memory lane can still find YouTube videos of the blaze, as well as a parody or two.