Woman and three children die in Feltonville rowhouse fire

Rasheedah Butts-Wilson loved to sing in the house, and in warm weather her piercing voice would draw neighbors to their porches to listen.

Early Thursday morning, neighbors heard her voice again, this time screaming in fear and agony as a raging fire consumed her Feltonville home.

As Butts-Wilson cried for help, neighbors called 911 and tried to reach her on her cell phone. One man kicked in the back door but was repelled by fire.

"You couldn't do anything. The flames were unbelievable, unmanageable," neighbor L. Roman said. "I've never seen flames like that. It was flames like a warehouse fire."

The blaze killed Butts-Wilson, 33, and her three children, identified by neighbors as son Jamar, 14, and daughters Shanai, 8, and Minyan, 11.

Investigators did not say Thursday what caused the fire, which was so intense that damage extended to four other rowhouses, rendering two of them uninhabitable.

A fire marshal with an accelerant-sniffing dog arrived in the afternoon and roamed through the gutted wreckage, suggesting that investigators were looking into whether the fire had been set.

But neighbors thought arson was an improbable cause given that Butts-Wilson and her children were so beloved on the block.

The family had lived in the rented rowhouse at 4814 Palethorp St., just below Roosevelt Boulevard, for about five years.

In that time, Butts-Wilson had become block captain, handling problems such as getting sewer drains unclogged and having the block designated as a barricaded "play street" for children in the summer.

"She was one of the only people, from what I've heard, that took the initiative to be a block captain," neighbor Rudy Harmon said. "She was willing to lend a helping hand."

She also stepped into the neighborhood rotation of watching one another's children, as hers mingled and made friends up and down the block.

The children attended three public schools - Barton, Feltonville Arts and Sciences Middle School, and Daniel Boone, according to the School District.

"She was part of the family," Roman said. "Her kids shared with my kids."

About four or five months ago, Butts-Wilson got a new job at a day-care center, and she was days away from moving her family to a house she had bought around the corner on Loudon Street.

She recently had the heat in the new house switched to her name, neighbors said.

"She didn't want to move far because she didn't want Jamar to lose his friends," Harmon said.

Harmon said his son Rolando and Jamar were best friends. Jamar attended his son's First Communion, tagged along on trips to the mall and skate park, and shot pool in Harmon's basement. Jamar was timid and quiet, Harmon said, but a trustworthy young man.

"If he didn't know you, you wouldn't even know he was there," he said. "But when he got to know you, he'd open up."

Harmon said Jamar often was called upon to look after his little sisters, a duty he took on without complaint. Jamar's father was involved in his life, but did not live with the family.

"He was 14, so he had to play the man of the house," Harmon said. "The guy had to grow up fast, but he was an amazing kid."

Harmon said Shanai and Minyan mostly kept to the house. One neighborhood girl described them as typical preteens who loved to play together and were wild about Justin Bieber. "They were my best friends," Tatyana Adams, 12, said.

Throughout the day, neighbors gathered on icy sidewalks to stare at the burned-out shell of the rowhouse. A memorial of stuffed animals and candles that sprouted in front grew larger by the hour.

No family members were present until late in the afternoon, when a woman arrived on the block, took a look at the house, and collapsed in grief. She was hustled away by two male companions, who declined to comment.

The house had just one smoke alarm, in the basement, and the battery was dead, Philadelphia Fire Commissioner Lloyd Ayers said. Firefighters went through the neighborhood later in the day, inspecting and installing smoke detectors.

Neighbors complained about firefighters' response, saying they were slow to arrive and confused about whether there were people in the homes.

Ayers disputed that, saying the first 911 call arrived at 1:28 a.m. and the first firefighters were on the scene four minutes later.

He said firefighters found heavy smoke and fire on the first floor, including the porch.

There was a brief communications breakdown, Ayers said, when firefighters asked a man in front of the house whether everyone was out.

The man said yes, but it soon became evident that he was referring to a neighboring house. Other neighbors told firefighters they heard screaming from the burning building, Ayers said.

A firefighter tried to enter, but got into trouble and had to be pulled out.

"They tried their best to get up there, but it was hard," neighbor Jackie Toledo said.

Neighbors all said firefighters couldn't get water from the closest hydrant and had to run a hose down Loudon to a hydrant on Mascher Street.

"That's minutes that could have saved lives," said a woman who refused to give her name.

Ayers said that frozen hydrants were a problem in cold weather - the temperature was 25, according to the National Weather Service - and that firefighters use water from their truck tanks when they arrive to fight a fire.

Firefighters found the bodies on the second floor. Ayers said. Butts-Wilson was in a front bedroom, her son was in the middle bedroom, and the girls were in a back bedroom.

"If you don't have an early warning, you're trapped," Ayers said, adding that firefighters were, like the neighbors, "heartbroken" by the outcome.