Once upon a time a callow youth—quite by accident—almost burned down a high school chemistry lab.
This is not that story, but an appreciation of certain details in this one will enhance your enjoyment when I get round to telling you it. This story involves Spencer Hogg, a bunsen burner and the thermite reaction. (Aside: I just googled his name, because I was certain I’d previously written about him on Nature Network. Turns out I’ve written about another exploit of his elsewhere, but as that’s behind a paywall I’ll have to adapt it at a later date.)
So. The thermite reaction.
One fine day in the top chemistry set at Kent School, one Mr Woods mixed together a small amount of Fe2O3 and solid aluminum powder in a small, ceramic dish. This was placed on gauze on a tripod (remember them?). Then all 20-odd of us were shooed behind the back bench, and Mr Woods lit the bunsen, turned it down really really low, placed it under the mix and ran like bloody hell to join us at the back of the lab. We waited.
We waited some more.
Eventually, Spencer Hogg spoke up.
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘nothing’s happening. Can I go and turn the bunsen up?’
‘No, give it a bit longer.’
So we waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
‘Sir,’ Spencer said, ‘can I go and turn it up now?’
‘All right then, but only a bit, and be very careful.’
Now, this might tell you a bit about Sir’s character. One of these days (At SoLo09, perhaps) I might tell you what happened on a school trip to Amsterdam, but I fear that it would only distract you from what happened next:
Spencer duly emerged from the bunker, walked over to the demo, and turned up the flame by the merest amount. He turned away, and there was what I can only describe as a ‘FOOM’.
Actually, that would be wasting a perfect opportunity to use the word ‘pyrotechnics’. Bits of flaming stuff whizzed out of the ceramic dish: sparks, smoke; the works. I think Spencer might have flinched.
One piece of flaming stuff landed in the wastepaper bin by the hand-washing sink. This bin was a wire basket about three feet high with a green (funny the details you remember) plastic liner and full to overflowing with scrunched-up paper towels. Which ignited.
Woods, give him his due, leapt over the bench and dashed to the front of the class, releasing the catches on the red metal box to get at the fire blanket…which happened to be directly over the bin. The fire blanket dropped straight down, still folded, and the flames shot sideways through the wire, the plastic liner giving way almost immediately, while we pissed ourselves laughing.
Not to be deterred, he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall and put the awesome power of yeast genetics foam to its God-given purpose.
When the smoke had cleared and we’d filed back to our own seats, Mr Woods called in the teacher from the parallel class next door, and asked for help resetting the safety on the fire extinguisher. This cove placed the extinguisher on the demonstration bench, stood behind it and tried to force the safety; sending foam over most of the front bench and its occupants—fortunately for me my seat was at the very end (nearest the door. I’m not daft) and it missed me.
The extinguisher was left, then, and we thought no more of it, except what a great thing chemistry was and how Spencer Hogg was quite possibly the luckiest boy in the school.
My fun, however, was only just beginning.
What I want to know is, why wasn’t it you pestering Mr Wood about turning up the bunsen?
Because evil masterminds have willing minions; and a seat by the door.
‘Goodbye, Mr Bond’.
Hmmm. That’s one explanation.
I’ll tell the story about the hydrogen syringe next, and then perhaps you might understand why I was happy to let Hogg take the fall.
I think it was the ill fated David Blayney who released hydrogen cyanide, or was it arsenic, into the chemistry building one day. Teachers trying not to panic, “Everyone leave by the main door. *HOLD YOUR BREATH IN THE CORRIDOR*”
Ah, the halcyon days of youth.
oh, and that video is about the coolest thing I have ever seen. Ever.
Our chemistry teacher was a Mr David Atkinson, aka Wacko Acko. He once told us about stealing a lump of sodium from his own chemistry teacher, throwing it down a toilet, and subsequently not being able to findi a piece of said toilet bigger than 2cm across. All this while demonstrating what happens when you throw a much smaller chunk of sodium into a bowl of water.
Then he left the room.
We were 15.
You can imagine what happened next… although the lads in my class were sensible enough to chuck the sodium into a large puddle in the playground, rather than into a toilet.
Wacko Acko also told us about drawing a pencil line from the ignition of his physics teacher’s motorbike down to the ground, leading to the teacher not being able to start his bike and having to stay over at a colleague’s place. Which in turn caused an affair and a divorce. But at least whole generations of chemistry students now remember that graphite conducts electricity.
Oh, and he mixed hydrogen and oxygen in a ballon, soaked the string in ethanol, tied it to the net on the tennis court, and set fire to the string. That was a fun day.
CAth: I am just laughing. That is one funny story. (or several funny stories…)
Richard: that sounds like a fun day in class. Lucky no one got hurt. We had some similar thing happening when someone hadn’t closed the gas knob where you hook up the bunsen burner… the teacher turned on the gas with the major knob, someone lit their bunsen and the fire leaped through the whole row until a jacket caught on fire…. luckily the jacket was on top of the benches, not on someone.
Btw, the video was awesome! I loved the idea of testing but all I could think of the first time they lit that “fire tape” was “what if the grass catches on fire” … like that would really be a problem with all the other fire around?! 😉
I remember the hydrogen/oxygen mixture in a balloon as well, with our teacher climbing up on the lab bench, a lit candle in his hand and his eyes squeezed shut… you almost have to envy chemistry teachers for being able to really make a point of what they’re teaching.
This one’s still one of my favourites:
Yeah. No one got hurt.
No one got hurt in the next story I was going to tell, but I think I will tell the story where someone did get hurt, first. Through their own idiocy, mind, and it wasn’t that serious.
I heart chemistry.
What they don’t show you in that video, Steffi, is how the red gummi bear actually survived the reaction and got transformed into a superbeing that now flies over the night streets of St Albans, rescuing other sweets from evil miscreants.
Nitrogen Tri-iodide. Just sayin’.
I love that stuff.
Sorry, what I meant to say was: I love that stuff. Is that what’s in the little thingumajigs you can throw onto the ground which then explode?
Piers had a load with him at Jenny’s on saturday evening, and we discovered that batting them away with your bare hands is fun.
Richard, I think you meant to say you love explosions.
@Jenny: the video (and the other hundreds like it on youtube) should teach any calory-counting sweet tooth to just give it up…
Not true Steffi…
I like fire and poisoning pigeons, too.
Mr. Grant does not poisoning the pigeons are close sister taxa of the extinct dodo bird. Furthermore the pigeon are more intelligent. Richard; ¿Responded something like your teacher of Biology of the school?.-
And you responded in its fullest extent: “I’ve killing a descendant of Raphus cucullatus“, ¿or no Richard?
Raphus cucullatus
Raphus cucullatus
I didn’t learn biology at that school. It’s a dossy subject.
Ha,ha,ha! is interesting the melody.
Dodo