‘FIRE GOD’ READY FOR FREEZING RAIN

Fire God may be an exaggeration, but what else would you call it?

This is an image of the final results, but what came before?

A cold, dead, space in a wall of brick, which is what a fireplace is without a fire.

Here’s the lesson I learned by sticking my head in there:

Broken things can be fixed if you stare at it long enough.

Recap: My wife hired a fireplace cleaning and repair company.

They were great until it got down to cleaning and repairing.

The call I got from the manager felt like I’d burned my bridge with them.

In other words, I’d have to start over with another company to complete the job, which meant cleaning and surveying what needs done.

The whole thing started when I couldn’t get the flame on the gas fire to ignite.

And I couldn’t find the manual after twenty years or so.

I’m sure it’s here someplace because why wouldn’t it since throwing anything out is against house rules.

To make it more challenging, I had a gas leak that didn’t smell like rotten eggs.

The service guy left, wife called NW Natural, I walked the dog.

NW Natural showed up before I got back from my dog walk.

With the threat of getting my gas service red-tagged and locked out in the winter, I was the best customer I could be.

Did he need help? He was going to get it whether he wanted it or not. Turned out he was fun to work with.

He left three hours later. He could have been the Fire God, but I still had a nearly dead fireplace.

Dead Fireplace Looks Like This

This is nearly dead:

The top rack wouldn’t ignite so the heat didn’t rise enough for the fan to kick in and warm the room.

I have a feeling if NW Natural had done the inspections the first time it would have turned out differently for $239.

Fearless Fire God To The Rescue

Since the fearless fire god left, I started looking into the problem, which was now My Problem.

How complicated could it be?

Aside from starting an accidental fire, or blowing up the house, how complicated could it be?

I knew what the problem was by listening to the boss from the first inspection:

“I’m trying to tell you there’s a 9 volt battery that ignites the top rack. All you need to do is replace it and I’m saving you a service call.”

Now he’s doing me a favor?

The best part was listening to another man explain things like I didn’t know an elbow from an a-hole.

So where’s the battery located? He didn’t say.

But the online manual said it was on the bottom left inside the control panel.

All I had to do was unscrew the plate, flip it forward, and there it would be.

So that’s what I did, and found no battery case, just a couple of what looked like electrical junction boxes smaller than a 9 Volt.

Now what?

I turned it off and on a few times hoping something would change and I’d get more flame than just the bottom bar.

Nothing changed the first time, or the next five.

Why not give up and call the service guy again? Because I was going to make it work, determined to make it work.

I also had a grudge.

I talked through the process with my wife as she cleaned up the kitchen.

She’s a results kind of gal and listened half-heartedly.

A Results Kind Of Guy? What’s This

This is a shot of the fireplace frame.

That’s a switch on the bottom left of the frame that does what?

Why didn’t I see this before? Why isn’t is mentioned anyplace?

So I’m talking through the ignition process of starting the pilot, turning on the gas, and watching the bottom bar flame on.

Then I flipped the side switch.

Turns out it powered the control box instead of 9 Volt battery.

The top bar lit up, I raised my arms like Muhammad Ali after a knockout and declared victory.

From there all it took was arranging the logs, hooking the fire box window into place, and driving to SE 8th to the NW Natural appliance center for a new remote.

Me: Hello, I bought a Mendota fireplace from you twenty years ago and wonder if the remote is still under warranty?

The remote isn’t even made today. We all had a laugh.

Who’s having the last warm laugh?

The new Fire God, that’s who.