During my commute this week, I came across a story out of Cortland, New York where firefighters responded to two separate lithium-ion battery fires in less than 24 hours.
The first happened on the evening of September 11 inside a four-story sorority house occupied by more than 50 students. According to the City of Cortland Fire Department, a portable speaker suddenly caught fire inside a bedroom. A housemate grabbed a fire extinguisher and knocked down much of the fire before firefighters arrived.
The following afternoon, firefighters were called to another building. This time, an e-bike battery had been charging inside an apartment when the occupant heard popping and hissing. The battery was disconnected and moved outside, where it reportedly burst into flames shortly afterward. Fortunately, no injuries were reported in either incident.
Two incidents. Two everyday devices. And one increasingly familiar challenge for the fire service.
The Hazard Is Already in the House
When I entered the fire service, we trained for the hazards we understood. Structure fires. Vehicle fires. Flammable liquids. Electrical emergencies. Hazardous materials.
Those hazards haven’t disappeared.
But today’s firefighters are walking into buildings containing something previous generations didn’t encounter on anything close to today’s scale: stored energy.
Think about what’s around you right now. Phones. Laptops. Tablets. Power tools. E-bikes. Scooters. Portable speakers. Vacuums. Lawn equipment.
Lithium-ion batteries have become part of everyday life.
Most of the time, we barely notice them. Until something goes wrong. And when it does, the incident may present challenges very different from what someone might imagine when they hear the words battery fire.
This isn’t simply anecdotal. Earlier this year, the National Institute of Standards and Technology published research examining multiple data sources to better understand lithium-ion battery fires. One of its conclusions was particularly important: existing reporting appears to substantially underestimate the number of these fires.
In other words, we’re still learning the true scale of the problem.
From an E-Bike to an Energy Facility
The consequences can also vary enormously.
In New York City, FDNY reported that a June 2026 residential fire in Queens was caused by a lithium-ion battery charging inside an apartment. A 48-year-old man escaped through a bedroom window but later died. FDNY identified it as New York City’s first 2026 death connected to a lithium-ion battery fire that occurred that year. The department continues to warn people not to charge batteries overnight or position charging devices where they could obstruct an exit. But this isn’t only a residential or e-bike problem.
At the other end of the spectrum is Moss Landing, California.
In January 2025, a fire broke out at a 300-megawatt battery energy storage facility containing approximately 100,000 lithium-ion battery modules. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, about 55 percent of those modules were damaged.
EPA personnel and local responders assess damage following the Moss Landing Vistra battery energy storage facility fire in California. Photo: U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.
Nearly 40,000 intact batteries have since been removed for recycling. Just this month, EPA announced that the cleanup had entered its final phase, which includes removing severely damaged batteries and demolishing portions of the fire-damaged building. EPA currently anticipates the battery-removal and demolition work continuing into 2027.
Think about that range for a moment. A portable speaker, an e-bike, and a utility-scale energy storage facility. Same underlying battery technology. Entirely different emergency-response problems.
The Fire Service Has Been Here Before
Maybe not with lithium-ion batteries. But we’ve been here before. The built environment changes. Technology changes. Construction changes. Vehicles change. Energy systems change. And eventually, the fire service has to change with them.
That’s part of what has always impressed me about this profession. We inherit generations of knowledge, but we’re never allowed to stop adding to it.
There was a time when firefighters didn’t have to think about photovoltaic systems covering rooftops. Electric vehicles weren’t sitting in garages. Large battery energy storage systems weren’t being constructed in communities. And rechargeable devices weren’t scattered throughout nearly every room of a house. Today, they are. Tomorrow will bring something else. That means yesterday’s experience, as valuable as it is, cannot be the end of our education.
Experience Is a Foundation, Not a Finish Line
I spent over three decades in the fire service. And one of the lessons those years taught me is that experience matters tremendously. But experience can become dangerous when we start believing it means we’ve seen everything. We haven’t. None of us have.
The firefighter walking into the station today will encounter hazards during their career that haven’t even been invented yet.
Our responsibility as leaders isn’t simply to teach them everything we know. It’s to develop firefighters who know how to keep learning when what we know is no longer enough.
That’s the larger lesson I took from these two seemingly ordinary fire calls in Cortland.
The equipment changes. The technology changes. The fire changes.
And the fire service must be willing to change with it.
Sources & Further Reading
City of Cortland lithium-ion battery incidents - Reporting based on information released by the City of Cortland Fire Department describing the September 11–12 portable-speaker and e-bike battery fires.
National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) - Understanding the Risk of Lithium-Ion Battery Fires: Multi-Source Data Analysis, NIST Technical Note 2365, March 2026.
New York City Fire Department (FDNY) - July 22, 2026 safety advisory following the fatal Queens lithium-ion battery fire.
U.S. Environmental Protection Agency - September 8, 2026 update on the final phase of cleanup following the Moss Landing battery energy storage facility fire.
This Week’s Stop: Two Monuments. Two Chapters.
During my commute, I pass a lot of things that most days barely register. Exit signs, construction, traffic, brake lights; lots and lots of brake lights.
But there are two landmarks along my route that are different. I notice them. Every time.
One is the United States Air Force Memorial, its three stainless-steel spires rising above the Arlington skyline.
The other is the National Museum of the Marine Corps at Quantico, its soaring mast visible from I-95.
One represents an organization in which I spent 30 years of my life. The other represents an organization that also holds a special place in my heart. And lately I’ve found myself thinking about what those two landmarks represent, not simply to our country, but to me.
The first monument
The Air Force Memorial honors the service and heritage of the men and women of the United States Air Force and the organizations that preceded it. Its three spires reach skyward from Arlington, overlooking the Pentagon and near Arlington National Cemetery.
The U.S. Air Force Memorial rises above the Arlington skyline.
When I see those spires through the window, though, I don’t think first about architecture. I think about people.
I think about a young man who enlisted in the Air Force in 1995 without knowing where the journey would take him.
I think about assignments around the world. Fire stations. Emergency responses. Deployments. Long nights. Promotions. Mistakes. Lessons. Friendships. I think about becoming a fire chief. And eventually, a Chief Master Sergeant.
The United States Air Force became an independent military service in 1947, born from the enormous expansion and evolution of American airpower during World War II.
I entered that story nearly five decades later and was entrusted with carrying a small piece of that legacy forward.
That’s something I don’t think I fully appreciated while I was living it.
Maybe that’s how life works.
Sometimes you have to get a little farther down the road before you can look in the rearview mirror and understand what the journey meant.
A few miles farther south…
Eventually, another landmark appears. The National Museum of the Marine Corps. Its distinctive design was inspired by the famous image of the flag raising on Iwo Jima.
The National Museum of the Marine Corps rises alongside I-95 near Quantico, Virginia.
Its soaring design was inspired by the flag raising on Iwo Jima, and even from the highway, it is difficult to miss.
My relationship with this landmark is different.
After years in an Air Force uniform, I know that culture from the inside. I lived its traditions, learned its history, served alongside its people, and eventually became part of its leadership.
The Marine Corps is different. I never wore the Eagle, Globe and Anchor, but there is something about passing that museum that reminds me how much there still is to learn about the institutions, people, and traditions that have shaped our country.
The Marine Corps traces its history to November 10, 1775. Generations of Marines have inherited a culture built around service, sacrifice, identity, and an extraordinary sense of connection to those who came before them.
You don’t have to wear a particular uniform to respect what it represents.
And perhaps that’s one of the things this chapter of my life is teaching me.
Sometimes we honor a legacy by carrying it. Other times, we honor it by taking the time to understand it.
Every time I pass the museum, I’m reminded that my own experience is still only one experience.
There are other histories. Other traditions. Other ways of serving.
And still more for me to learn.
Leadership Lesson | We Inherent the Legacy
Neither the Air Force nor the Marine Corps belongs to any one generation.
We inherit institutions built by people who served before us. For a period of time, we’re trusted with a small piece of their legacy.
Then eventually, we hand it to someone else.
Leadership isn’t about owning that legacy.
It’s about being a good steward of it while it’s ours to carry.
That’s true whether you serve for 30 years, three years, or never wear a uniform at all.
Whatever organization you’re part of, somebody built something before you arrived.
The question is:
What will it look like when you leave?
Along the Route
Call Sign Chief-1 Podcast
Thank you to those who supported Season 2, and to the wonderful lineup of guests. Season 3 is in the works and will feature another great group of leaders from the military, fire service, business, and beyond.
Command Presence Field Guide
Still available through The Shanton Effect for leaders looking to strengthen their presence during critical moments.
Speaking & Workshops
2027 leadership workshops and speaking opportunities are available. I’m excited to continue helping leaders develop their influence and impact.
Visit www.theshantoneffect.com for more information.
Question for Passengers
What organization, place, or symbol reminds you that you’re part of something bigger than yourself?
I’d love to hear the story behind it.
Until Next Stop…
Thank you for riding along!
- Shanton
Pride. Professionalism. Excellence.
The Commute | Reflections From the Road
The views and opinions expressed in this newsletter do not reflect the official policies or positions of the United States Government, the Department of Defense, or any affiliated organization.
This newsletter is intended for informational and educational purposes and is based on personal observations, experiences, and leadership lessons.
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