BY JANE PRENDERGAST
The Cincinnati Enquirer
NEWPORT - The fire that killed baby Michael started because his mom was trying to keep him warm.
The 8-month-old, who was just learning to say Da-da, died Monday morning. A space heater in his bedroom was plugged in with an overloaded extension cord. The cord overheated and sparked the flames.
Michael Stephen Spicer died even though his house was a half-block from the fire station and had six working smoke detectors. None was close enough to his room to send a warning in time.
"The baby was gone before we even got the call," said Newport Fire Capt. Ken Elliott. He sprinted to the Orchard Street house just after the 9:10 a.m. call, instead of waiting for the firetruck.
Four people escaped without injury, including Michael's half brother, Malachi, whom neighbors described as a toddler, and his mother, Denise Mains. Two other people, Ms. Mains' stepbrother and his girlfriend, also escaped. Michael's father, Scott Marksberry, had already left for work.
The woman fell from a second-floor window into the arms of Capt. Elliott and housing inspector Garland Whisner. The men kept telling her not to jump, that the fire engines would be there with ladders in seconds. She lost her balance, Capt. Elliott said, and fell. Neighbors said the man also had to jump out.
The bedroom where Michael died is on the first floor, in the rear. All the fire damage was confined there. His mother was on the same floor at the time, but in the front of the house several rooms away, Capt. Elliott said.
"She didn't have a chance to get in there," he said. "The fire had such a start. There was just a lot of smoke and heat."
Southgate firefighters, who came to help Newport, rolled the baby's body out on a stretcher and loaded it into an ambulance. They asked photographers not to take pictures.
Nobody, one firefighter said, needs to see this.
Because of the emotions such a sight can evoke, Newport Chief Larry Atwell called for help from a Northern Kentucky group experienced in debriefing firefighters after what they call critical incidents. They're people not involved in the particular fire, but people with experience in other tragic ones.
"You see a lot of death," the chief said. "But you can kind of make yourself callous to it if it's an adult. When it's a baby . . ."
Chief Atwell avoided looking. Without question, he didn't want to see. He explained why very simply: He has two grandbabies.