WHOA!!!
At exactly 1:51 A.M. this morning, the bell hit.
I don't talk much about my former career as a firefighter. But, there are times that the experiences I collected then are brought back to me, full force, in my face.
This morning, actually in the middle of our night, a HUGE crash brought my wife and I leaping out of our beds. I had no idea what it was, but, suddenly, I was back in the firehouse, the bell sounding, the lights going on, and the speaker announcing : "You got one!"
Meaning, of course, that we had a working fire to put out, people to find in the smoke, walls to hang close to, blackness to negotiate, ears to singe..
Waking had to be instant. We would be on the scene, donning face pieces, rushing into the black hot in less than 5 minutes.
Sometimes, I confess, I found myself in the middle of a search wondering if I was dreaming, just then waking up, seeing little, instead relying on sense of hearing, feeling, and memory to find our ways in and out again.
Adrenaline was both a blessing and a curse. Too little meant being too slow, too much bounced you off of walls, could actually freeze you in your tracks.
Fear was a factor. You had to respect fire for what it was if you were to survive. A force of Nature, elemental, powerful, deadly. It played by it's own rules, crept up on you from behind, through walls and ceilings, through floors...Always seeking to destroy.
All we had to beat it was the same tool that ancient people used: water.
The clothing we wore provided basic protection, but we still managed to lose several firefighters a year nationwide. In 1978, we lost four of our own, two who had come on in my class.
We survivors returned to work that same day.
That's the nature of the job.
Anyways..
Last night, it was only a bag of bottles that had fallen off the hook. No harm, no foul.
But, I admit, it took a while for my heart to settle back into a healthy, normal sinus rhythm.
Forgive, please, any drama you may sense here. It really was like that, all 31 years of it. I thank God, for the survival of we who retired. I pray for those who still face the midnight bell.
YOU GET THE POINT!!
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6 comments:
Dad, I am glad that you have written this. It is good for me to hear about those days. I never really knew what it was like for you! Thank you for being a hero! I love you!
Definitely not a hero, baby girl.
Wow. Thank you for writing about it. I have always wanted to ask, but I didn't want to put you in a difficult position if you didn't want to relive it. Yes, you are a hero. When everyone else would be running out, you and your firemates ran into danger to help others. That sounds like the definition of a hero to me.
Naw..just a lousy sense of direction!
I remember being really proud of you, dad, when I watched the firefighters running into the twin towers on 9/11. They talked endlessly for the next few days about those guys' bravery, but in actuality I knew they were just doing their job. They were doing what you did every single time you got called to the scene of a fire. To choose and keep that as your profession in the face of all the danger involved is what, it seems to me, really indicates courage.
Thanks honey. It also takes a lot of courage to walk into a courtroom and face a gnarly old defense lawyer!! I think I'd rather face a burning building....!
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