When feelings get in the way

Michael Hubbard’s story was never an easy one to tell. The horrific tragedy that befell this unfortunate Riverhead boy, whose life was destroyed at age 14 when a liquid fuel fire pot exploded in his face, has been a painful, gut-wrenching story to report over the past three-plus years.

Certainly there have been many bright spots along the way: the progress he’s made in his recovery, exceeding doctors’ expectations; the way the Riverhead community rallied behind him and his family; the outpouring of love and support by his classmates at Riverhead High School.

But what happened to Michael on May 28, 2011 should not have happened, and it makes me mad. My anger has not subsided in the three years since. It’s only intensified — intensified by what I’ve learned about the deadly product, by how the people who profited from its sale played the legal system to escape responsibility for its brutal consequences, by the federal government’s unwillingness to act to make sure the product is never sold in U.S. stores again, and by the way big, soulless corporations will stop at almost nothing to protect their bottom lines.

My anger has intensified, too, with the feelings that have grown in me for Michael’s family: his mom Nancy, her sister, Fran, Fran’s son Kris. The agony they’ve lived through and continue to live with is utterly heartbreaking.

All of this makes writing about Michael Hubbard and his family excruciatingly difficult for me. I love these people. I am incapable of objectivity.

Community journalism is not an easy calling in part because of those pesky feelings we have for the neighbors, acquaintances and friends we must sometimes write about. It’s especially so when the news we must report is controversial, embarrassing or painful. Many stories — more than you would imagine, I suspect — affect us deeply and leave both me and my husband in tears. (He will be mad at me for writing that, but it’s true.)

This particular story, however, goes beyond anything I’ve ever encountered as a local newspaper reporter. And my feelings go beyond what most reporters would consider “professional.” As a consequence, I tend to shy away from writing much about Michael and his family these days. When Nancy or Fran and I talk, we speak as friends, not reporter and interview subject. It’s somewhat easier for me to use the opinion page of this website to write about the Reyer family tragedy, since my feelings are inescapable. And feelings in opinion columns are more acceptable.

Michael’s “accident” was not an isolated incident. The pourable gel fuel that exploded and injured Michael seriously injured dozens of people and caused the deaths of at least two victims. The explosions occur when fuel gel is poured into a canister that is already lit or still hot. By design, the gel in the “fire pots” is what is ignited — there is no wick — and the flame is not readily visible. When more gel is added to a hot or burning canister, a flash fire erupts, shooting flaming gel several feet through the air. Burn victims are typically bystanders two to six feet away from the canister.

In June 2011 — shortly after Michael Hubbard’s tragedy — the product was voluntarily pulled off retail shelves by its manufacturer, Napa Home & Garden, a Georgia company which then filed for bankruptcy. At that time, there were 23 known burn injuries. Nearly a half-million bottles of the pourable fuel gel had been sold or offered for sale by the company. By September, the Consumer Product Safety Commission knew of 65 incidents — resulting in two deaths and 34 victims who were hospitalized with second and third degree burns of the face, chest, hands, arms or legs.

Nine additional manufacturers and distributors of ethanol-based pourable gel fuels agreed to voluntarily recall their products, the CPSC announced Sept. 1, 2011. The federal consumer protection agency has been mulling a rule change that would ban the sale of such products nationwide since December 2011. It never reached a decision, at least publicly.

The pourable ethanol gel fuels continued to be sold outside of Suffolk County — local legislators enacted “Michael’s Law” in August 2011 year banning their sale here — and similar accidents continued to occur.

The owners of Napa Home & Garden, Jerry and KC Cunningham, of Georgia, filed for bankruptcy in July 2011, once the victims’ lawsuits started piling up. They sold their company’s assets — minus the “Firepot” and “FireGel” lines, of course — to a big corporation the following month, with court approval.

“We were in and out of court in 60 days,” Jerry Cunningham boasted to Casual Living magazine. “That was the choice I made – to find a way to consummate the sale. I thought this was the way to stay in business, and fortunately, it worked out.”

It “worked out” especially well because the Cunninghams, in January 2013, were able to buy back their company. Yes, “it worked out” very well for the Cunninghams indeed. They’ve got their company back and they’ve escaped liability for two deaths and more than 85 injuries, some of them, like Michael’s, quite devastating.

Mr. and Mrs. Cunnningham, how do you sleep at night?

Napa’s $1.1 million sale proceeds and liability insurance policies combined for a total of about $15 million, which the bankruptcy court disbursed to about 75 injured claimants, who will have no further recourse against the bankrupt entity.

Michael Hubbard’s lawyer sued national retailer Bed, Bath and Beyond, where Fran Reyer Johnson bought the “fire pot” that injured Michael.

As I wrote here in May 2013, Bed, Bath and Beyond actually had the audacity to sue Michael’s Aunt Fran, claiming she was at fault for not properly supervising the use of the fireburners they sold her.

Her son, who grew up as a brother with Michael — the sisters and their sons shared a home throughout the children’s lives — is traumatized by what happened. He added the liquid fuel to the already-hot canister, which then exploded, slathering Michael in flaming gel. Kris will carry his own scars for life. As if that’s not enough, Kris now has to submit to depositions by Bed Bath and Beyond’s lawyers, who will question him about every detail of that awful, fateful day — doing untold harm to an already badly hurt young man.

If corporations are really people, as the Supreme Court tells us, wouldn’t they have some feelings? Even a little compassion?

All of this makes me angry beyond words. It makes me sick to my stomach. And it makes it even harder to write a story about Michael or Nancy — even what should otherwise be an easy “feel-good” piece like one about Nancy being honored as “caregiver of the year” by an organization for traumatic brain injury survivors.

It’s a lot easier to settle into my role as friend and sister, where anger is not only acceptable, it’s expected.

Sometimes this journalist gig is just too much to bear.

Denise Civiletti is the editor and copublisher of RiverheadLocal.com. An award-winning community journalist, she is an attorney and former Riverhead Town councilwoman (1988-1991); she lives in Riverhead with her husband and business partner, Peter Blasl and their two college-student daughters. The views expressed in her blog are hers alone.