WPI Journal  
Volume CI, No. 3 - Summer 1999
 
Work by Michael Rzeznik will assure that fire will not destroy the symbol that survived the rocket's red glare and the bombs bursting in air nearly 200 years ago.
Photos by Samarra Khaja

Protecting a Grand Old Flag

By Ray Bert '93

Early on the morning of Sept. 14, 1814, American soldiers defending Baltimore's Fort McHenry from the British ran an enormous flag up the fort's 90-foot flagpole. "As the last vessel spread her canvas to the wind, the Americans hoisted a most superb and splendid ensign on their battery," wrote an English midshipman. Eloquent though they were, his words are far from the most famous inspired by the raising of that flag, which had been made by a local seamstress for the princely sum of $405.90.

Originally commissioned in 1813 by Lt. Col. George Armistead, the fort's commander, the 35-foot by 42-foot Star-Spangled Banner flew over the garrison during a heavy bombardment by British ships at the height of the War of 1812. Francis Scott Key, a Washington lawyer detained aboard a British ship in the Baltimore harbor, watched the assault from afar. When Key saw--by the dawn's early light--the huge flag flapping defiantly over the fort as the British retreated, signaling that the fort, and most probably the country, had survived, he was inspired and penned a poem that he originally titled "The Defense of Fort McHenry." In time, the popular verse was set to music and, in 1931, was officially designated America's national anthem.

Until sometime in 2002, visitors to the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History can watch as one of America's most significant national artifacts undergoes a delicate, $18 million preservation operation. Patrons will see the 1,020-square-foot Star-Spangled Banner--the actual flag immortalized by Key--laid out on an enormous "operating table" in a specially designed laboratory. They will see a team of eight conservators, as exacting and careful as surgeons, shuttling just above the flag on a gantry system, cleaning and treating the 187-year-old "patient." They will see the scars of the War of 1812 and the 15 stars (one for every state in the still-young nation), reminders of America's early days.

What they won't see, and will probably never hear about, is a high-tech system hidden behind beams, around corners, and in the placement of the doors and passageways of the laboratory--a system that will only be put to the test if catastrophe strikes. They won't see the ultrasensitive aspirating smoke detection system or the suppression system capable of quickly extinguishing a fire with little or no damage to the fragile flag. They won't see any of that, because WPI graduate Michael J. Rzeznik, designed it that way.

When Rzeznik, a senior fire protection engineer with Gage-Babcock & Associates who earned his master's degree in fire protection engineering at WPI in 1994, was first assigned to protect the nearly 200-year-old flag, it seemed like a routine task. "I didn't understand the significance of what I was going to be protecting," he says. "I figured it would take all of 15 minutes."

He soon found out otherwise. What he originally thought of as "just a flag" is considered one of the three most important U.S. historical artifacts, the others being the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. The Smithsonian hired Gage-Babcock in the summer of 1997 to design a system that would protect the flag from fire during the three-year conservation process--a system that might be reconfigured for use in the new, climate-controlled display case where the flag will eventually take up permanent residence.

Rzeznik, who managed the Star-Spangled Banner assignment for the company, began work on the project during the summer of 1997 and completed most of the design between November and the following April. He did nearly all of the engineering himself, he says, because, although it was very sensitive work, it wasn't a voluminous fire protection scheme. But he notes that working with American History Museum conservators (who have an intensely personal connection to the flag and its safety) made the project both more satisfying and more challenging.

"In [fire protection], often clients bring you on board as a result of federal, state or municipal regulations or requests," Rzeznik says. "People usually aren't too excited about the issues. It's a lot easier to get across the importance of doing things right when people really care, as they did in this case." But that increased caring came at a cost: Rzeznik spent considerable time carefully assuaging concerns about the potential dangers to the flag, and learning in the process just how important this "15-minute job" actually was.


KCF/SHG

Serving as a prominent engineering firm's point man for arguably the most historically significant recent project of its kind was not what Rzeznik imagined himself doing as he worked toward a bachelor's degree in physics at the State University of New York at Albany in 1989. In fact, he got into the fire protection field by accident. "I was always told, 'study what you enjoy,' and I liked physics," he says. "I didn't have any real idea in mind of what I would do with it." Before he had completed his junior year, he already knew he didn't want to teach high school or go on to earn a Ph.D. in physics. About that time, his father read an article in Omni magazine that listed fire protection engineering as one of the hottest new careers--one with numerous jobs and good pay.

Rzeznik did some research and found that WPI was the only university offering advanced degrees in the field at that time. That spring, he talked with David Lucht, director of WPI's Center for Firesafety Studies, who so impressed him that he enrolled in the center's master's degree program. Lucht, whom Rzeznik calls "a great ambassador for the industry and for WPI," also proved something of a savior. "At the end of 1989, I was broke and had to get a job," Rzeznik says. After Lucht noticed him scanning job listings in the department office one day, he and former professor Richard Custer helped set him up with a paid internship at Rolf Jensen Associates in New Jersey. "That internship made it possible for me to continue my studies."

Rzeznik says he developed a great deal of respect for the entire FPE faculty at WPI, especially Robert Zalosh, who advised his thesis on the atmospheric dispersion of combustion products from large tire fires. "Professor Zalosh was the most demanding professor I've ever had," he says. "I learned a lot working with him."

Rzeznik says WPI's strong presence in the field of fire protection engineering has helped him network through the highly specialized, tightly knit FPE profession. "When I meet someone new in the industry, chances are I know someone he knows," he says. And not infrequently, the people he has encountered in his career have direct ties to the University.

His internship with Rolf Jensen, a company founded by a member of WPI's Fire Protection Engineering Advisory Board, led to a full-time position in 1992. He remained at Jensen as he finished his thesis and collected his master's degree in 1994. In 1996 he joined the Harrington Group in Atlanta, a fire protection consulting firm founded and run by Jeffrey Harrington '77, and where Jim Russo '92 is vice president. Among the projects he completed for Harrington was an evaluation of the smoke-control system in CNN Center.

He joined Gage-Babcock in Fairfax, Va., the following year and soon had another fortuitous alumni encounter as he began designing the fire suppression system for the Star-Spangled Banner. The criteria he specified for nozzle discharge pressure for the suppressant agent was tight: 70-75 psi. This limited range was selected to ensure that suppression would be rapid enough to protect the flag from fire damage, while avoiding damage to the flag from the force of the discharge. The contractor said he couldn't meet such tight tolerances.

An engineer from Kidde Fenwal, the system vendor, was brought in. When Rzeznik found out the engineer was Kevin Richards '87, he knew reaching an agreement would be much easier. "I was confident that he was qualified because I knew where he went to school," Rzeznik says. The camaraderie and common ground helped, and they won the battle, working to the tight specs. Yet another WPI alumnus, Andrew Bowman '94 (M.S.), also with Gage-Babcock, was involved in acceptance testing of Rzeznik's design.

The 187-year-old Star-Spangled Banner is exceedingly fragile; the fibers making up its 15 still-broad woolen stripes and 15 no-longer-bright cotton stars have grown brittle with age and exposure to oxygen and light. The painstaking work to be carried out by the conservators--believed to be the single largest textile conservation effort ever undertaken by a museum--required a system that would virtually eliminate the possibility of a catastrophic fire. For such an irreplaceable item, particularly one that will burn as easily as newspaper, "virtually any fire would be considered a catastrophe," Rzeznik notes.

Spencer Crew, director of the Museum of American History, calls the Star-Spangled Banner "America's single most important icon" and describes the preservation as "complex, highly technical work." Simply taking the banner down from its display area in Flag Hall was an engineering challenge, as handlers used an opaque, tear-resistant, nonabrasive fabric called polyolefin to protect the flag from light, dust and moisture damage; a specially designed suspension system supported the flag and its reinforced aluminum frame from top to bottom as it was lowered.

The flag wasn't always treated so delicately. The Armistead family, which acquired the flag after the war, gave away one of the stars and several swatches as souvenirs, reducing the flag's length to 34 feet. The Smithsonian eventually acquired the national treasure in 1912. Early conservation efforts were, by today's standards, decidedly low-tech, including vacuuming and spot-cleaning it with gasoline. In 1914, a team of seamstresses sewed on a linen backing (requiring more than 1.7 million stitches) in an attempt to keep the flag together. In 1984, two years after an extensive surface cleaning, the flag was covered with an opaque screen to protect it from light and dirt. The screen, which was lowered for five minutes each hour for the playing of the national anthem, was not effective in keeping out lint and debris, and has not been in use since 1994, when supporting cables broke.

Conservators are still evaluating the flag and determining exactly what will comprise the newest and most extensive conservation effort. The linen backing may be removed, or the stitching may be dyed to match the flag's present color. The surface will certainly be cleaned again, prior to installing the flag in the huge climate-controlled display case.


Robert Zentano, GBA

Unlike the conservators, Rzeznik had a clear idea of the job that lay ahead of him. Working under criteria developed by Chief Conservator Suzanne Thomassen-Krauss, which specified that no level of damage to the flag was acceptable, Rzeznik had to be concerned about damage from impact, water and chemicals as he determined how best to prevent, detect and suppress a fire in the lab area.

For prevention, he all but banished electrical equipment in the lab and separated the structure from the rest of the museum with noncombustible partitions to keep smoke from fires that might start outside the lab from getting in. Another set of barriers, including a fire-resistance partition and smoke and fire dampers in duct work, separate the lab from an adjacent support area where flammable and combustible liquids used in dyeing and cleaning operations will be stored.

The laboratory's aspirating detection system is a crucial element in limiting damage to the flag. The system draws lab air through PVC tubes into a central unit, where it passes through a laser. Smoke particles in the air interrupt the beam, triggering alarms and automatic response sequences that vary depending upon the concentration of smoke. This system will be adapted for use in the final display case.

By far the most difficult part of the job was selecting the most appropriate suppression system, and then convincing the conservators that it was the best choice. "It quickly became evident that a sprinkler system would be too slow," Rzeznik says. Even if sprinklers were capable of extinguishing a fire quickly enough, the water could cause irreparable damage. Rzeznik decided on a gaseous agent, which left him with a choice of two categories of "clean agent" gases: inert and halocarbon.

Inert agents extinguish fires by displacing oxygen. To halt a fire before it could cause appreciable harm, large volumes of inert gas would have to be discharged quickly, requiring high discharge pressures--a minimum of 325 psi, more than enough to seriously damage the flag. Halocarbons are more efficient suppressants, and can be dispensed at lower pressures. But at high temperatures, they can also produce small quantities of hydrofluoric acid. Though the amounts would be negligible, particularly if the fire were quickly controlled, Rzeznik felt obliged to communicate the possibility to the conservators. Not surprisingly, the possibility of acid contacting irreplaceable fabric was a cause for concern.

Rzeznik says there were times he thought concern over the acid might lead the conservators to rely only on the existing sprinkler system, despite his recommendation to the contrary. But with support from one of the Smithsonian's own fire protection engineers, Rzeznik convinced museum personnel that the existing sprinkler system "would protect the building, but not the flag."

With his work on the Star-Spangled Banner now complete, Rzeznik is working in Gage-Babcock's Armonk, N.Y., office, returning occasionally to the D.C. area to check on progress and attend to details. As is typical for fire protection projects, though, the task that was important enough to require his expertise has only just begun. And, if all goes well, the client will never get to evaluate Rzeznik's meticulous work.

"I asked everyone in the office--from the president to the newest engineer-- to find a weak link in my design," he says. But the reality is that "we design systems that we hope never have to be used, and that statistically won't ever have to be used." If they are used, flawless performance is expected, while a failure is sure to be high-profile. Like a referee or an umpire, fire protection engineers often have to live with anonymity as the reward for a job well done.

Still, Rzeznik clearly enjoyed the historic context of the flag project. "I don't know when I'll get another opportunity to work on something as historically significant as this. On the other hand, Gage-Babcock & Associates was recently awarded the contract to protect the National Archives Building, home of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, so it may happen sooner than I think!"

--Bert, an associate editor at ASEE Prism magazine, is a frequent contributor to the WPI Journal


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Last Updated: 7/7/99


 
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