My dad was a professor of surgery who had spent a year between high school and college working as a lumberjack. He was expert with a double-bitted axe and very good at felling trees where he wanted them. He enjoyed taking down trees and splitting firewood. The branches and limbs that were too small to bother with splitting were piled up and an old tire inserted into the middle of the pile. He would pour a quart of kerosene into the rim of the tire and light it up. As the fire burned through the top of the pile, we'd pile more branches on. It took about 6 hours for the fire to finish - lots of smoke. We lived in an unincorporated suburb of Memphis and such outdoor burning was legal at the time (early 60's). Kerosene doesn't go "boom" and none of us were injured because of the fires. The homes in the neighborhood generally were on lots of an acre or more - none of the neighbors complained. There was a time when Dad went to take down a dying oak tree, not realizing how rotten and hollow the insides were. Instead of falling where he'd intended, it turned halfway during the first cut and fell against the neighbors garage and slid down the side. The main damage was that the gutter was torn off and some shingles needed replacing.