It is that time when we care enough, that our friends and neighbors have such a need,
we answer their call for help, for such is our duty and will.
For it is the time, in the dead of winter, with the wind chill and temperature well below zero,
that the fire siren wails and the pager tones break the silence of a cold winters night,
that we jump out of bed to answer that much needed call for help.
We then return to our quarters with icicles hanging from our helmets and our ears nearly frost-bitten;
yet we clean our gear and repack endless rolls of hose in readiness of the next alarm.
With hopes and prayers that our friends and neighbors will stay out of harm's way,
just losing a few hours of sleep or rest for our efforts. People may wonder why I do what I do.
Why am I here? The answer is simple,
I am a volunteer!
Imagine that in the heat of Mid-September, 90 degrees and climbing;
the alarm sounds with the dispatcher announcing a large field fire. The work is tiring and time consuming,
but the oath we took is to deny nobody our help. Family time, special moments, and maybe even work is lost,
and for all this, what is our cost? Just to remember the reason I am here. There is a need somewhere out there,
I am a volunteer.
We may fight amongst ourselves because we disagree on such, but when the siren cries out,
all the foolishness is left behind to answer the call for help. We come together to conquer the task at hand.
I have spent thousands of hours learning my trade, in classrooms, in-house training, at fire schools,
and at the training center. Why? I learn these traits to serve the ones I swear to protect. These lessons are my tools.
This is to make the obvious clear;
I am a volunteer.
The alarm sounds again and someone lies injured or dying. We do our best and keep on trying.
Whether it be 5:00 A.M. or 5:00 P.M. the call is for an auto accident with small children involved.
Their bones may be broken and their dreams dashed as well. Why am I in this twisted metal box?
Not because I dare, but because I care. Helping others is what my heart was born to do.
Again, that is why I am a volunteer.
I may be 25 years old, eager and ready or I may be 60 years old, a long way wiser, but still involved.
I may be man or woman, large or small, black or white. I may work as a grocer or as a mechanic.
I may be a housewife or a husband, a father or a mother, or just someone or another.
But I am there. Where there is a need, I'll always be. So if my time for needing help is near,
I just hope that you are a volunteer.~Anonymous~
Wish You Could Know
I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for
trapped children at 3 AM, flames rolling above your head, your palms and
knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the
kitchen below you burns.
I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 6 in the morning as I
check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR
anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But
wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done to try
to save his life.
I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout
gear, the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see
absolutely nothing in dense smoke-sensations that I've become too
familiar with.
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire "Is this a
false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What
hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to call, "What is wrong with
the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening? Is the caller really in
distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?"
I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead
The beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save During the
Past 25 minutes. Who will never go on her first date or say the words,
"I love you Mommy" again.
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine,
squad, or my personal vehicle, the driver with his foot pressing down
hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain,
as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When
you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be,
"It took you forever to get here!"
I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage
years from the remains of her automobile. "What if this was my daughter,
sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What were her parents reaction going
to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my
parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did
not come back from the last call.
I wish you could know how it feels dispatching officers, firefighters
and EMT's out and when we call for them and our heart drops because
no one answers back or to here a bone chilling 911 call of a child or wife
needing assistance.
I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes
physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their
attitudes of "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or
missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all
the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping
save a life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in
time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy
tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" Not even being able to
look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say.
Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having
CPR done on him as they take him away in the Medic Unit. You know all along
he did not have his seat belt on.
A sensation that I have become too familiar with
Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly
understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means
to us...I wish you could though.~Anonymous~
