The day the Governor’s Mansion burned

The 22-foot pine stretched from the main floor through the open ceiling upward to the third floor. By every measure it was the Christmas centerpiece at the Governor’s Mansion and a favored site for visitors 30 years ago coming to see Gov. Mike Leavitt during his first year in Utah’s top job.

Following his inauguration, he and his young family moved into the turn-of-the-century Kearns Mansion, its French Renaissance design a fixture on East South Temple in Salt Lake City. Now, approaching Christmas, one could not enter the 28-room mansion without thinking of all those past holidays, and the noteworthy guests that were hosted here, including Presidents Teddy Roosevelt and Dwight D. Eisenhower, on one of Utah’s most prestigious lanes.

“It’s so horrific that we had 130 people in the ballroom the night before. And there was no way out of that place. It could have been horrible. But didn’t happen,” Leavitt said. “And the next morning it did.”

The recollections came as we sat together at a table in his Salt Lake City home. The occasion for our conversation was the upcoming January release of his multi-book online memoir, a treasure trove of information that promises to be a user’s guide to good governance and includes detail-rich career and family memories. But this will be no ordinary memoir. More on that later in the story.

“If you had tried to set the perfect bomb for a bonfire, we could not have done a better job,” he said, recounting the events of Dec. 15, 1993.

Dec. 15, 1993

Christmas trees and tiny lights were evident in just about every room of the mansion. The huge centerpiece tree had yule logs at its base and cotton on many of the tree branches to simulate the appearance of snow. Guests the night before enjoyed the festive atmosphere at a celebration for the governor’s cabinet, office staff and their families. But morning would come early with a briefing for the editorial boards, publishers and owners of Utah’s major newspapers.

The media assembled at 7:30 a.m. to be briefed on the governor’s budget, which he would present later in the day at the Capitol to the Legislature. It was a big day for the governor as this was his first budget in his new job leading the state. The journalists received their morning preview and later in the day, around noon, the governor was to speak to the Legislature about his budget priorities.

According to Gov. Leavitt’s memoir, in his own words, here’s what unfolded as he addressed the media:

“As I talked, I noticed a staff member walk through the grand hallway and plug in the big Christmas tree. An immediate brilliance filled the room, and we all paused to enjoy the moment. ‘And merry Christmas to you all,’ I said, before moving on with my remarks.”

The briefing wrapped up, the journalists left, and the governor’s children were already away to school. He was headed to the Capitol to put the final touches on his budget address. His wife Jackie remained at the Governor’s Mansion with their young son, Westin, and she would join her husband at the Capitol later for his address. Or so she thought.

The spark

“Governor, there has been a small tree fire on the second floor of the Mansion. Apparently, they have it all put out and things will be OK” That was the message from Lee Perry, one of the governor’s security detail, who can be forgiven for not understanding the enormity of what eventually occurred.

As the governor writes in his volume:

“My mind flashed back to when I was fourteen years old and our family home had caught fire. It was a traumatic experience for my family and me, and I knew that any such event would be unsettling to Jackie. Lee Perry’s brief report also was troubling; the second-floor tree he referred to was an artificial tree — not likely to be involved in a fire.

‘I need to get down there,’ I told Charlie (Johnson, his chief of staff).” The budget address would have to wait.

The memoir includes Jackie’s account, with the ominous headline, “There’s a a fire! Run!”

As Jackie wrote:

“I heard a strange sort of popping noise just outside my open bedroom door. The sound came from just below the large oval opening, which overlooked the first floor Grand Hall. I stepped out and looked over the wood railing to see a shocking sight — a fire racing up the 22-foot Christmas tree approaching the second level hallway. I instantly yelled, ‘Fire!’ and started to run toward Westin.

“My mind raced, ‘What have those crazy fire alarm men done!’ she said, remembering they were in the mansion.

“I heard Carol Bench calling out from the first floor, ‘Get out, get out, get out!’ As I ran toward the family room, I yelled, ’Westin, Westin!’ He came directly into the hall and I swooped him up. Hearing the commotion, Lauralee Hill ran into the hallway.

“‘There’s a fire! Run, I said to her.”

Jackie continued:

“... the two men who had been on the first floor checking the alarm system, quickly fell in behind us, and I yanked on the door.

“I pulled forcefully on the back door, but it would not budge. Intense suction of the air, affected by the flames — which had now burst upward from the tree past the first floor to the large, open, third-floor ceiling dome — caused a powerful backdraft. The two fire alarm technicians at the rear of our group quickly came forward and together were able to pull the door open. A loud whoosh of air blew by us as we ran out, and the door slammed shut with a bang,” Utah’s first lady wrote.

Gov. Leavitt arrives

“It takes roughly seven minutes to drive from the Capitol to the mansion. When in a hurry, security would turn on 2nd Avenue and drive toward G Street. As we got closer, I could see smoke. ‘That doesn’t look like a small tree fire on the second floor,’ I said out loud.

“We turned the corner and pulled into the parking lot of the adjacent Utah Arts Council building, where I could see Jackie standing with Westin. My anxiety level dropped immediately seeing them safe. However, just as I stepped from the car, there was an explosion with a shattering of glass and a roar of flames jumping skyward.”

News of the fire spread quickly. TV news broke into programming for live coverage. The governor dispatched two members of his security detail to retrieve his children, one to East High School and the other from Bonneville Elementary.

“The family had previously established emergency protocols with the schools in case the kids needed to be quickly picked up, so within 30 minutes, all four joined us at the Arts Council building,” Gov. Leavitt wrote.

The cause

When the fire was out and the smoke began to clear, the governor joined fire officials to survey the damage. The walls stood, but the mansion was gutted. The cause had nothing to do with those who were there checking alarms that morning. The tree lights were turned on, as they had been the night before, but this time it sparked a fire.

“There were thousands of lights of course, all tied with one cord. And the darn switch kept getting hot,” the governor recalled from his east Salt Lake home. “So the maintenance guy said, ‘Well, I can fix that.’ Click, click, puts it together with some tape. So surprise, surprise, you know, there’s a spark and that catches the tree. And I mean ... what could have happened there,” the governor said,

As the memoir states, “It was determined to have been caused by an improperly spliced electrical wire in the base of the tree in the Grand Hall.”

It would take 2¹⁄₂ years and nearly $8 million to complete the restoration of the home Thomas Kearns built in 1902 for $350,000.

On July 29, 1996, as Utah celebrated its centennial-year anniversary of statehood, the mansion reopened to tours, with its refurbished 1902-era splendor, but with upgrades that made the mansion both a suitable home and a place to host dignitaries from throughout the world.

The memoir

The mansion fire is just one of the many stories that will be accessible with the coming release of “The Personal History of Michael O. Leavitt,” the 14th governor of Utah (1993 to 2003), who went on to serve in the administration of George W. Bush with the EPA and as Secretary of Health and Human Services.

“I started off writing a very personal history,” Leavitt told me. “I realized, this is a history of Utah, during that period, from one perspective. But it’s probably as good a history of what happened between 1992 and 2003, as anyone has accumulated, because I’m probably the only one who’s tried.”

But then further realization set in.

“I began to realize a lot of what I am writing about is happening again. And so there’s a collection of lessons that we learned that might be beneficial to those who are now responsible to do it.”

Look for more about this important work, and the lessons learned, in January in the Deseret News.

Note: Doug Wilks is the executive editor of the Deseret News.