The sole survivor of the deadliest day in the 175-year-history of Vicksburg Fire Department has been laid to rest, after nearly 38 years as a humble hero.

Jimmy Gibbs died May 13 at his home; he was 65. Gibbs’ hands were severely disfigured when he tried to save the life of a fellow firefighter in an explosion July 3, 1974, at Paul Pride Butane Co. near current-day Culkin and Jackson roads. He took medical retirement because of his injuries after serving on the fire department for six months and a day.

Family members said they believe Gibbs died from complications from injuries he suffered in the fire coupled with exposure to Agent Orange during the Vietnam War.

Capt. John Krueger, Lt. David Lewis and Lt. Johnny McBroom died as result of the explosion that injured Gibbs. Three of the four men, including Gibbs, were assigned to Constitution Station on Cherry Street. McBroom was assigned to a different station but had switched shifts with a firefighter who was taking his son to Jackson.

Paul Massey and Gibbs joined the fire department together Feb. 2, 1974. Nearly four decades later, Massey remembers the day of the explosion with clarity.

Firefighters had just changed shifts and many had gone home to start celebrating Independence Day when the explosion happened. As soon as they heard their co-workers were injured, everyone came back to work, he said.

“They didn’t have to call. Everybody came in, whether they got paid or not,” Massey said.

The four-man crew went to Paul Pride Butane Co. for what they thought was a grass fire that was threatening a butane tank, said Bill Field Sr., also a firefighter at the time.

“They didn’t have a fire. What they had was a butane leak,” Field said. “There wasn’t anything we could do about it. They were called to a fire and when they got up there, it wasn’t a fire.”

About 15,000 gallons of butane had leaked from a tank and covered the ground in a fog that resembled smoke. Paul Pride tried to warn the firefighters but it was too late.

“They were in a blanket of gas before I could stop them. It looked like the moment they stopped the truck and hit the ground the gas ignited,” Pride said in 1974.

It also was too late when Krueger realized the cloud was butane and ordered his men to retreat.

A spark of an unknown origin ignited the cloud of butane, and the truck burst into flames, said Buddy Holliday who was lead investigator of the explosion for Vicksburg Police Department. The explosion occurred in the county, but VPD investigated because a city vehicle was involved, he said.

“Guys on the inside of the cab didn’t have a chance,” said Gibbs’ son, Sean Gibbs.

After the blast, Jimmy Gibbs saw Lewis lying on the ground on fire and rushed to his aid, said Gibbs’ older brother, Al Gibbs Jr. Jimmy Gibbs used his bare hands to try to extinguish the flames. At that time, firemen were not issued gloves, former firefighters said.

“His hands melted because he was trying to put him out,” Al Gibbs Jr. said. “That’s what made him a true hero. It wasn’t about him, it was about people and saving their lives.”

Lewis — the second black firefighter at VFD — was a mentor to Jimmy Gibbs, the department’s third black firefighter, Sean Gibbs said.

“He always talked about him like he looked up to him,” Sean Gibbs said.

Lewis suffered burns over more than 80 percent of his body and was taken to Mercy Hospital, where he died four days after the blast.

Jimmy Gibbs, who suffered burns on 10 percent of his body, and McBroom, who was burned over more than 90 percent of his body, were standing when paramedics arrived and got into the ambulance without help, Massey said.

McBroom was one of the toughest firemen to ever serve Vicksburg, Massey said.

“He walked in the hospital and wanted them to fix him up right quick so he could get right back out there,” Massey said.

McBroom died the next day.

Krueger was blown away from the truck and was found in a ravine about 30 minutes later, Holliday said. He also died July 4, 1974, and VFD lost a great man that day, Massey said.

“He was a first-rate firefighter and a first-rate captain,” he said.

The fallen firefighters each had a large funeral drawing as many as 1,500 people, including the whole fire department except for Jimmy Gibbs who remained hospitalized for about eight months.

Gibbs had numerous surgeries as doctors tried to repair the hands of the former Rosa Temple High School football star and Marine Corps sniper. He never fully recovered and took medical retirement before working for the Corps of Engineers and Vicksburg National Military Park, Al Gibbs Jr. said.

“He was that kind of person who took risks and took challenges,” Al Gibbs Jr. said.

After the explosion, Jimmy Gibbs was in constant pain physically and emotionally, his brother said.

“He always felt like he was losing something because that war was so brutal and then when he came back here there were more people who died,” Al Gibbs Jr. said.

Though his physical appearance changed and he became more isolated, Jimmy Gibbs remained a courageous, supportive person, Al Gibbs Jr. said.

“That’s how I remember my brother,” he said.

Sean Gibbs remembers his father as being deep and pensive, but also showing signs of emotional scars.

“He told me he was a survivor. He said, ‘I can’t call my platoon. They’re all gone. I can’t call my crew. They’re all gone,’ but he knew God had a plan for him.”

Jimmy Gibbs would often tell his son about the war or his time on the fire department, but he would never brag.

“He was such a modest guy,” Sean Gibbs said.

After the explosion, morale was low for all city employees, former police and firefighters said.

“It’s one family, and it’s devastating to lose three members at one time,” Holliday said.

In 1974, the county had no volunteer fire departments, so VFD responded to most fires in the county, Massey said.

“Going to Eagle Lake was just like going to Clay Street,” he said.

Equipment was also primitive compared with today’s turnout gear, Field said. Firefighters had no gloves and did not have fire-resistant hoods, he said. Only one engine was typically sent into the county, he said.

“We didn’t have any support or anything like that. The 500 gallons of water we had in the truck was all we had when we went to fires,” Field said.

Increased training and better equipment keep similar explosions from happening today, Fire Chief Charles Atkins Jr. said. Firefighters are trained to look at a number of indicators while assessing potential risks.

“That’s one thing that came out of that — learning when to react and not to act,” Atkins said.

With today’s protection, former firefighters said, the outcome of July 3, 1974, would have been much different.

“Jimmy Gibbs probably wouldn’t have gotten burnt now,” Massey said.

The gas industry now requires a number of fail-safe valves to be installed on all equipment, which reduces the risk of major leaks, Atkins said. After the 1974 explosion, a soldier in an asbestos suit was called in to turn the shutoff valve for the butane tank because there was no other valve, Holliday said.

Though the risk of similar explosions has been reduced, firefighting is still a dangerous occupation, Atkins said.

“Without any regard for danger, sometimes we put ourselves in that situation,” Atkins said.

In 2000, Fire Station 2 on Indiana Avenue was dedicated in honor of the four men injured or killed in the explosion.