By Lisa Chmelecki,Staff Writer

WALES – Jay DiPaolo was pumping oxygen into his last tank before his 7 p.m. break when he heard the pop.

The hissing of explosive gas shooting from a metal cylinder as it spun across the floor came next.

Someone yelled, “Run,” and DiPaolo and his co-worker sprinted for the emergency exit.

DiPaolo’s eyeglasses were knocked from his head as black smoke filled the room. Blinded by the fog, the two men turned around and headed for the front door.

A wall of fire got in their way.

DiPaolo had spent the previous five years training as a professional wrestler. His character, Kildevil, had been tossed from the ring, hit with flying chairs and trash cans, even smashed over the head with a frying pan.

He had learned how to fall and take blows to avoid serious injuries.

But none of that training helped DiPaolo on Jan. 17, 2002, when a tank full of methyl acetylene gas ruptured during the second shift at Maine Oxy-Acetylene Co. in Auburn.

Six men were working that night, filling tanks with gas for industrial and medical purposes. Four of them barely made it out alive.

Tights and cape

The plant reached 2,000 degrees within minutes.

DiPaolo looked at his co-worker, put his arms in front of his face and darted through the flames. When he got to the other side, his shirt was on fire and skin was hanging from his arms.

The two men collapsed onto the snow and waited to be rescued.

Three years later, after having convinced himself that Kildevil was gone for good, DiPaolo has agreed to put on his tights and long cape, paint his face red and re-enter the ring.

Mr. Muscles Frankie Armadillo, Italian Superman Sonny Roselli and Rugged Ric Daniels are among those who will be waiting for him tonight at Newbegin Community Center in Gray.

“I had no intentions of ever being involved with wrestling in any capacity again,” he said, sitting at the kitchen table at his family’s farmhouse in Wales. “But an outside force stopped me from wrestling, and I want to stop on my own terms.”

A look’

A stocky man of average height, DiPaolo was wrestling in states throughout New England before the accident.

He always knew that breaking into the World Wrestling Federation would be tough. But, until the day when 65 percent of his body suffered second- and third-degree burns, he saw it as a possibility.

Things are different now.

“For one thing, wrestling involves a look, and this isn’t really a marketable look,” he said, extending his arms in front of him. The red and purple scars begin on his hands, then disappear under the sleeves of his T-shirt.

His back looks worse, he said.

Ring rust’

The owner of New Wrestling Horizons called DiPaolo about a month ago to ask if he’d take part in today’s match.

As the event gets closer, the 26-year-old is not sure why he said yes.

Soon after being released from Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston, DiPaolo got rid of his WWF videotapes, his action figures and the autographs he cherished as a kid.

“It just doesn’t appeal to me anymore,” he said. “Plus, I don’t want to be ring rust.’ That’s what they call people who try to get back into it but can’t make it look good anymore.”

He’s expecting every fall, every hit to hurt. His muscles aren’t as strong as they used to be when he was going to the gym every day.

DiPaolo grew up admiring Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant and other pro wrestlers. His father took him to live matches, and they spent Saturdays together in front of the television.

“My dad was a huge fan,” DiPaolo said. “I think he actually thought it was real.”

DiPaolo was 10 when his father died of heart failure.

Several years later, after returning from the University of Alaska because he could no longer afford the tuition, DiPaolo walked into a local wrestling gym.

He offered to set up rings in exchange for lessons. He was hooked after his first match – two long minutes of getting beaten up by a 7-foot wrestler named The Mercenary.

Monkey wrench’

DiPaolo got better over time. His specialty was hard-core wrestling – a special category free of all rules.

“You can be hit with chairs, trash cans, whatever is around,” he said.

He learned to pour super glue in open wounds to avoid the emergency room. He had bruises that never went away, sore spots that affected how he sat and slept.

These days, DiPaolo hardly sleeps.

The sound of cars speeding down Route 132 – “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” – startle him awake.

His days are broken up by visits from nurses and physical therapists and trips to the local store for cigarettes and food. He has gone to the supermarket a few times over the past three years, only to regret it as soon as he felt the stares.

He avoids the cold air. It makes his skin crack and turn purple. The heat is just as bad. His skin no longer breathes or sweats, so the heat gets bottled inside. His elbows ache. His hands shake.

“This whole thing has thrown such a monkey wrench into everything,” he said. “I’m in such a rut.”

He’s hoping today’s match will snap him out of it, or at least give Kildevil a chance to hang up his cape – on his time, his terms.

See Kildevil in action tonight at the Newbegin Community Center on Main Street in Gray. Doors open at 6:30 p.m. Match begins at 7 p.m. Tickets cost $10 for adults; $8 for children.