We had the awesome experience on Tuesday night of seeing the Broadway tour of the musical production of RENT starring the leads of the Broadway pay and movie production, Anthony Rapp as Mark, and Adam Pascal as Roger. I love this musical as it has a lot of special meaning for me regarding life, especially the song Seasons of Love.
After the death of Angel, a close friend in the cast, from AIDS in act one, act two starts with the rest of the cast in a single line across the stage opening the act singing Seasons of Love. If you’ve ever had a death of a loved one, be it a close friend, or a close relative it will have special meaning to you. When I was in the hospital back in October after having my stroke, I spent a lot of time reflecting on my life, and wondered how would I be remembered if I was to die. This song kept coming into my mind. And I would close my eyes and sing the song in my mind. I thought of the past year.
Of the 525,600 minutes, do I have any regrets? Sure, but then, doesn’t everyone? A harsh word spoken in anger toward a friend or a loved one. A missed opportunity to do something good. A wronged done to someone else. As I prayed to the Lord for forgiveness of my sins, another song came to mind from the show. The song was Life Support and the portion of the lyrics that came to mind was: Forget regret or life is yours to miss. Followed by the final line of lyrics to that song: No day, but today. Some may think that in my older age, I’m going through a state of depression or morbidity. But No, I’m just reflecting on the true meaning of my life. How do you measure your life? I hope, not by regrets. Life is too short to dwell on bad things in the past. Regrets of the past can’t be changed. After having the life altering experience of the stroke on October 1st, I’ve come to appreciate the most important things in MY life that is the loves of my life. To me NOTHING else is more important than the love of my family and friends. My wife and my boys remain the most important things in my life. I plan on living the remainder of my life to the fullest or as the song goes, or life is your to miss.
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In
inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you
measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of
love.
SOLOIST 1
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure
the life of a woman or man?
SOLOIST 2
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or
the way that she died.
COMPANY
It’s time now to sing out, tho the story never ends let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember
the love! Remember the love! Remember
the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love.
You are all a part of my incredible season of love that is much more than a mere 525,600 minutes long. And I thank you all for being a part of my life no matter how long or short we’ve spent together. And Thank YOU , Jonathon Larson for an incredibly wonderful musical that has touch so many. Including an old man like me.
I experienced a phenomenal display of love by some of my very best friends, who I don’t consider my friends anymore. I consider them more like my family. Just after Christmas, Kelly & Mike Andrey opened their home and held a party, inviting not only my family, but some of those who remain holding a very special part of my heart, my soccer boys and girls who I had the absolute privilege and honor of coaching from the time that they were very young through high school. I absolutely love these people, both the kids and their parents, with all my heart, and they remain some of my very best memories sharing with me some of my most fulfilling moments. I have never experienced such an amount of respect and love from nonfamily members as I have from these very special people. I love you all! Kelly you are a wonderful woman and I love you and I thank you for the party. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun and laughed so much for so long. My face actually ached days after the party from the laughing.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
My Speech before City Council March 2009
In this time of economic strife throughout
our country and
even the world, it seems that when governments, especially local governments
have to cut back in order to balance the budget, Police and Fire Departments
are always the first to feel the pinch. When listening to the government
leaders who make these tough decisions, it always irritates me when they try to
justify their rationale in the establishment of their civic priorities, with
high priorities always given toward hockey and soccer Moms to keep the Parks
open so they have a place to drop their kids off and not have to pay a
babysitter.....
I’m at the end of my career as a thirty
year fire captain with the City of Elyria, Ohio Fire Department having suffered
a stroke while on the job in October 2008. This is very unfortunate
because I wasn’t planning to retire at this point in my career. I truly
loved the job and the service I have given to my community. ....
However because of the stroke and some subsequent residual problems from the
episode, I will be unable to return to the job I’ve loved for all these
years. It was also because of the stroke that it was discovered that I
have a mild cardiac related problem that could possibly manifest itself to a
more serious nature if I were to continue on the job. I’ve told my fellow
fire fighters who were on hand to assist me when I was in need, who I feel were
ultimately responsible for saving my life, that this would be the ONLY time
that I’d let them wheel me off from the job, as I would never let the City Administration
have another opportunity to take me from my family, especially in light of the
pending cuts proposed for the Fire Department.....
I can remember the day I was sworn in as a
Fire Fighter for the City of Elyria, having resigned from my job as a Deputy
Sheriff for Lorain County. My Father was an Assistant Chief on the
Department serving as the City’s Fire Marshall and stood at my side when I
raised my right hand and recited the oath before the Mayor Bowman, the Safety
Service Director, my wife, and my Mother . ....
Having been involved in the hiring process as the Department’s Training
Officer, I likewise have been present at several swearing in ceremonies for new
hires, into a job I feel is the best in the world. However, it is the
City Administrative Officials who are tasked with swearing in these young men
and women who fail to understand just what our job entails. They fail to
ask the pertinent questions to understand what our job entails, and I’m not
speaking just for the job as Fire Fighter, but also as a Law Enforcement
Officer. I know for a fact that just about every member of this City
Council were invited to the Office of the Fire Chief where Interim Fire Chief
Joe Pronesti did his very best to educate you about our job as Fire Fighters
and the state of the Elyria Fire Department
Administrators and citizens alike fail to recognize that local members
of the safety forces are the first line of defense in our communities in our
established Homeland Security. ....
Over the past several years with the rise
in fears of global terrorism, and witnessing firsthand the affects of terrorism
on the shores of America, and significant natural disasters in the forms of
hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, and earthquakes, only those communities who have
adequately
prepared and planned for these disasters have made it through the rough
times. However those communities who have struggled with the emergency
responses, in particular New Orleans with Hurricane Katrina,
the Mayor was the first to criticize the Federal Government in how they
responded to the unfolding disaster. In reality, such first response
capabilities for local resources must be able to maintain initial response
actions for up to the first 72+ hours. Emergency Services remain the
first line of defense in the Homeland Security hierarchy. ....
Yet these services are being decimated to curtail the budget overspending so
that the niceties and not the necessities remain. God forbid that it would
happen here, but consider a Columbine type incident here and not having the
available on-duty resources to be able to provide at a minimum first responder
capabilities. We have been working with
the schools with the establishment of their Emergency Action Planse keep
in mind that it will be the local first responders who come under fire by the
community and ultimately the City Administration for their delayed or
undermanned response to handle the emergency situation. An excellent
example of how Emergency Action Plans are supposed to work comes with how the
incident at Lorain County Community College was handled, especially by the
college staff and security. There was an
orderly evacuation of all the students form the buildings. There was a check of
the rooms by personnel to assure that everyone was out of the buildings, which
resulted in all students , instructors, staff, and visitors were out of the
buildings requiring no emergency rescues required. Everyone there knew their jobs and
responsibilities and performed them well.
Will we be able to say the same at our next major emergency???....
We were lucky that the first fire truck
located only 1 mile down the road arrivewithin minutes after the receipt of the
alarm. Initial actions by firefighters
would have been dramatically different had that Station been closed and that
Engine Company been placed out of service thus adding several minutes for the arrival of the first Fire
Department units. And then once they arrived, the limited fire Department
manpower and resources would have been required to perform the same duties: making
entry into the smoke filled structures to assure that all students, staff and
security had safely evacuated the
buildings, checking every room, stairwell, and hallway, while at the same
time attempting to assess the situation, establishing an uninterruptible water
supply, stretching thousands of feet of hoses from the fire hydrants to the
pumping apparatus and then to the seat of the fire located underground in the
utility tunnels under the campus. The heat in the underground reinforced
concrete tunnels intensifying by the minute with near zero visibility.
The Incident Commander, knowing that the fire will double in size every 20-30
seconds, thus adding to the overall damage and structural instability , possibly
leading to collapse of the tunnels, and knowing that his limited
resources are taking one hell of a beating in the cavernous tunnels, and that
any stoppage of fire operations would allow for progression of the fire
from it’s original point of origin. A call for Mutual Aid from
surrounding communities for additional personnel and equipment is a last resort
call, not to be used for everyday responses that should be able to be handled
by the community Fire Department. The concept of Mutual Aid is that other
communities will provide assistance provided it can be reciprocated by the
requesting community. When that occurs resources from our community
respond to their need thus limiting the resources needed to protect our own
community, thus requiring the call of off-duty personnel to man the equipment,
apparatus and stations affected by the Mutual Aid call out so that our
community is not left any more shorthanded in case of an emergency need by our taxpayers.
We were lucky on the day of the college incident, because the fire station
located just down the road was not closed yet, and the Engine Company with its
three firefighters
were able to respond to the scene within minutes, followed several minutes
later by the remaining resources from all the fire stations located throughout
the city. Firefighters were injured at this fire in the performance of
their duties. Thank goodness their injuries were not serious. Though one
did require treatment at the Emergency Room.....
I would like you
all to consider the following: Fire fighters and police officers are people
who, at one point in his/her life, wrote a blank check made payable to
‘The Citizens of their Community ' for an amount of 'up to and
including their life.' This is something that we have all come to expect
as part of the job. We don’t go to work in the morning expecting
something to happen to us on the job, but when we kiss our loved ones goodbye
as we leave, we know that there is the possibility that we may not return. We
hear members of the community praising those responders and their survivors
when they suffer the loss of a loved one while in the line of duty. But
these are the same ones to cast their dispersions on those same individuals for
working the hours and hours of
overtime, that takes them away from their families in order to serve their
communities. And yet l hear the Mayor and members of his Administration
bad mouth the members of the Department chastising them for the amount of money
requested in their budget, saying in a public forum, a City Council Meeting,
“ITS NOT THE AMOUNT OF MONEY WE SPEND WITHIN THE
FIRE DEPARTMENT… BUT FOR ME WE’VE BEEN SPENDING MORE THAN THEY SHOULD NEED…
IT’S
THE VALUE OF WHAT WE’RE GETTING OUT OF THAT DEPARTMENT THAT'S IN QUESTION.”........
That
statement alone is a slap in the face to all of the brave member of both the
Fire Department AND the Police Department.....
I suffered a stroke while on duty stressing
over these issues and how it would affect not only the citizens of the City of
Elyria, of which my wife and children and many other family members are
included, but how it would also affect the safety of those firefighters tasked
to protect life and property. We have Department heads who are tasked
with providing the leadership as professionals who have worked their ways up
the ranks within their Departments to provide the leadership and
professionalism to perform the duties tasked to the personnel within their
departments. For years the Fire Chiefs have constantly been providing
information to the Mayor, but it seems that they’ve continually fallen on deaf
ears. For years the turnover rate within the Fire Department has been an
issue. Due to retirements, long term injuries and illnesses and military
leave which has taken some of our youngest and brightest members to wars in
both Iraq and Afghanistan. Thank God our members have returned safely
from war. However, the hiring’s have not kept pace with the
retirements. The Mayor has said that it’s cheaper to pay the overtime
than to maintain the minimum manning requirements by hiring new firefighters.
Yet in Public Forums, he blames the Firefighters for the budget crisis because
of the overtime they get!....
I’m getting off my soapbox now; this just
aggravates the hell out of me and I can feel my blood pressure rising again.
Before it gets out of control and leads me to another stroke I’m gonna quit
this tirade. ....
To the Department Heads in the City, I urge
you to carefully read over and study the City’s Emergency Operation Plan which
addresses each Department’s responsibilities should a disaster strike in the
City. The Plan is currently effective,
having been approved by the Administration following countless hours spent
working on the development of the City’s Plan by Assistant Chief Bob Dempsey
from the Fire Department, Captain Dan Jaekle from the Police Department, Mr.
Tom Kelley from the Lorain County Office of Emergency Management and Homeland
Security, and Myself. We missed an ideal
opportunity to practice the Emergency Plan with the Snow Storms we’ve had the
past couple years. Instead we operate in
responsive actions instead of predetermined actions, even when we knew up to
five dasy ahead of time before the storms struck and the snow began flying.....
To the Citizens in the City of Elyria I urge you to practice fire safety and
make sure your smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detectors are working and
have fresh batteries in them. This coming weekend when we turn the clocks
ahead for Daylight Savings Time, take the time to change their batteries. Along with that make sure that your family
has an escape plan in case you are faced with a fire or CO emergency.
Don’t wait or hesitate to call 911 in an emergency. The longer you wait
to call, the longer it will take for the first responders to get to your
location. I urge the citizens to become involved in their Neighborhood
Block Watch Programs through the Police Department and Community Emergency
Response Team Program through Emergency Management Agency. We all need to be aware of what’s going on
around us in our neighborhoods and take care of each other, because despite
what the Mayor says, I strongly
feel that his priorities place the niceties over the necessities!....
.. ..
our country and
even the world, it seems that when governments, especially local governments
have to cut back in order to balance the budget, Police and Fire Departments
are always the first to feel the pinch. When listening to the government
leaders who make these tough decisions, it always irritates me when they try to
justify their rationale in the establishment of their civic priorities, with
high priorities always given toward hockey and soccer Moms to keep the Parks
open so they have a place to drop their kids off and not have to pay a
babysitter.....
I’m at the end of my career as a thirty
year fire captain with the City of Elyria, Ohio Fire Department having suffered
a stroke while on the job in October 2008. This is very unfortunate
because I wasn’t planning to retire at this point in my career. I truly
loved the job and the service I have given to my community. ....
However because of the stroke and some subsequent residual problems from the
episode, I will be unable to return to the job I’ve loved for all these
years. It was also because of the stroke that it was discovered that I
have a mild cardiac related problem that could possibly manifest itself to a
more serious nature if I were to continue on the job. I’ve told my fellow
fire fighters who were on hand to assist me when I was in need, who I feel were
ultimately responsible for saving my life, that this would be the ONLY time
that I’d let them wheel me off from the job, as I would never let the City Administration
have another opportunity to take me from my family, especially in light of the
pending cuts proposed for the Fire Department.....
I can remember the day I was sworn in as a
Fire Fighter for the City of Elyria, having resigned from my job as a Deputy
Sheriff for Lorain County. My Father was an Assistant Chief on the
Department serving as the City’s Fire Marshall and stood at my side when I
raised my right hand and recited the oath before the Mayor Bowman, the Safety
Service Director, my wife, and my Mother . ....
Having been involved in the hiring process as the Department’s Training
Officer, I likewise have been present at several swearing in ceremonies for new
hires, into a job I feel is the best in the world. However, it is the
City Administrative Officials who are tasked with swearing in these young men
and women who fail to understand just what our job entails. They fail to
ask the pertinent questions to understand what our job entails, and I’m not
speaking just for the job as Fire Fighter, but also as a Law Enforcement
Officer. I know for a fact that just about every member of this City
Council were invited to the Office of the Fire Chief where Interim Fire Chief
Joe Pronesti did his very best to educate you about our job as Fire Fighters
and the state of the Elyria Fire Department
Administrators and citizens alike fail to recognize that local members
of the safety forces are the first line of defense in our communities in our
established Homeland Security. ....
Over the past several years with the rise
in fears of global terrorism, and witnessing firsthand the affects of terrorism
on the shores of America, and significant natural disasters in the forms of
hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, and earthquakes, only those communities who have
adequately
prepared and planned for these disasters have made it through the rough
times. However those communities who have struggled with the emergency
responses, in particular New Orleans with Hurricane Katrina,
the Mayor was the first to criticize the Federal Government in how they
responded to the unfolding disaster. In reality, such first response
capabilities for local resources must be able to maintain initial response
actions for up to the first 72+ hours. Emergency Services remain the
first line of defense in the Homeland Security hierarchy. ....
Yet these services are being decimated to curtail the budget overspending so
that the niceties and not the necessities remain. God forbid that it would
happen here, but consider a Columbine type incident here and not having the
available on-duty resources to be able to provide at a minimum first responder
capabilities. We have been working with
the schools with the establishment of their Emergency Action Planse keep
in mind that it will be the local first responders who come under fire by the
community and ultimately the City Administration for their delayed or
undermanned response to handle the emergency situation. An excellent
example of how Emergency Action Plans are supposed to work comes with how the
incident at Lorain County Community College was handled, especially by the
college staff and security. There was an
orderly evacuation of all the students form the buildings. There was a check of
the rooms by personnel to assure that everyone was out of the buildings, which
resulted in all students , instructors, staff, and visitors were out of the
buildings requiring no emergency rescues required. Everyone there knew their jobs and
responsibilities and performed them well.
Will we be able to say the same at our next major emergency???....
We were lucky that the first fire truck
located only 1 mile down the road arrivewithin minutes after the receipt of the
alarm. Initial actions by firefighters
would have been dramatically different had that Station been closed and that
Engine Company been placed out of service thus adding several minutes for the arrival of the first Fire
Department units. And then once they arrived, the limited fire Department
manpower and resources would have been required to perform the same duties: making
entry into the smoke filled structures to assure that all students, staff and
security had safely evacuated the
buildings, checking every room, stairwell, and hallway, while at the same
time attempting to assess the situation, establishing an uninterruptible water
supply, stretching thousands of feet of hoses from the fire hydrants to the
pumping apparatus and then to the seat of the fire located underground in the
utility tunnels under the campus. The heat in the underground reinforced
concrete tunnels intensifying by the minute with near zero visibility.
The Incident Commander, knowing that the fire will double in size every 20-30
seconds, thus adding to the overall damage and structural instability , possibly
leading to collapse of the tunnels, and knowing that his limited
resources are taking one hell of a beating in the cavernous tunnels, and that
any stoppage of fire operations would allow for progression of the fire
from it’s original point of origin. A call for Mutual Aid from
surrounding communities for additional personnel and equipment is a last resort
call, not to be used for everyday responses that should be able to be handled
by the community Fire Department. The concept of Mutual Aid is that other
communities will provide assistance provided it can be reciprocated by the
requesting community. When that occurs resources from our community
respond to their need thus limiting the resources needed to protect our own
community, thus requiring the call of off-duty personnel to man the equipment,
apparatus and stations affected by the Mutual Aid call out so that our
community is not left any more shorthanded in case of an emergency need by our taxpayers.
We were lucky on the day of the college incident, because the fire station
located just down the road was not closed yet, and the Engine Company with its
three firefighters
were able to respond to the scene within minutes, followed several minutes
later by the remaining resources from all the fire stations located throughout
the city. Firefighters were injured at this fire in the performance of
their duties. Thank goodness their injuries were not serious. Though one
did require treatment at the Emergency Room.....
I would like you
all to consider the following: Fire fighters and police officers are people
who, at one point in his/her life, wrote a blank check made payable to
‘The Citizens of their Community ' for an amount of 'up to and
including their life.' This is something that we have all come to expect
as part of the job. We don’t go to work in the morning expecting
something to happen to us on the job, but when we kiss our loved ones goodbye
as we leave, we know that there is the possibility that we may not return. We
hear members of the community praising those responders and their survivors
when they suffer the loss of a loved one while in the line of duty. But
these are the same ones to cast their dispersions on those same individuals for
working the hours and hours of
overtime, that takes them away from their families in order to serve their
communities. And yet l hear the Mayor and members of his Administration
bad mouth the members of the Department chastising them for the amount of money
requested in their budget, saying in a public forum, a City Council Meeting,
“ITS NOT THE AMOUNT OF MONEY WE SPEND WITHIN THE
FIRE DEPARTMENT… BUT FOR ME WE’VE BEEN SPENDING MORE THAN THEY SHOULD NEED…
IT’S
THE VALUE OF WHAT WE’RE GETTING OUT OF THAT DEPARTMENT THAT'S IN QUESTION.”........
That
statement alone is a slap in the face to all of the brave member of both the
Fire Department AND the Police Department.....
I suffered a stroke while on duty stressing
over these issues and how it would affect not only the citizens of the City of
Elyria, of which my wife and children and many other family members are
included, but how it would also affect the safety of those firefighters tasked
to protect life and property. We have Department heads who are tasked
with providing the leadership as professionals who have worked their ways up
the ranks within their Departments to provide the leadership and
professionalism to perform the duties tasked to the personnel within their
departments. For years the Fire Chiefs have constantly been providing
information to the Mayor, but it seems that they’ve continually fallen on deaf
ears. For years the turnover rate within the Fire Department has been an
issue. Due to retirements, long term injuries and illnesses and military
leave which has taken some of our youngest and brightest members to wars in
both Iraq and Afghanistan. Thank God our members have returned safely
from war. However, the hiring’s have not kept pace with the
retirements. The Mayor has said that it’s cheaper to pay the overtime
than to maintain the minimum manning requirements by hiring new firefighters.
Yet in Public Forums, he blames the Firefighters for the budget crisis because
of the overtime they get!....
I’m getting off my soapbox now; this just
aggravates the hell out of me and I can feel my blood pressure rising again.
Before it gets out of control and leads me to another stroke I’m gonna quit
this tirade. ....
To the Department Heads in the City, I urge
you to carefully read over and study the City’s Emergency Operation Plan which
addresses each Department’s responsibilities should a disaster strike in the
City. The Plan is currently effective,
having been approved by the Administration following countless hours spent
working on the development of the City’s Plan by Assistant Chief Bob Dempsey
from the Fire Department, Captain Dan Jaekle from the Police Department, Mr.
Tom Kelley from the Lorain County Office of Emergency Management and Homeland
Security, and Myself. We missed an ideal
opportunity to practice the Emergency Plan with the Snow Storms we’ve had the
past couple years. Instead we operate in
responsive actions instead of predetermined actions, even when we knew up to
five dasy ahead of time before the storms struck and the snow began flying.....
To the Citizens in the City of Elyria I urge you to practice fire safety and
make sure your smoke detectors and carbon monoxide detectors are working and
have fresh batteries in them. This coming weekend when we turn the clocks
ahead for Daylight Savings Time, take the time to change their batteries. Along with that make sure that your family
has an escape plan in case you are faced with a fire or CO emergency.
Don’t wait or hesitate to call 911 in an emergency. The longer you wait
to call, the longer it will take for the first responders to get to your
location. I urge the citizens to become involved in their Neighborhood
Block Watch Programs through the Police Department and Community Emergency
Response Team Program through Emergency Management Agency. We all need to be aware of what’s going on
around us in our neighborhoods and take care of each other, because despite
what the Mayor says, I strongly
feel that his priorities place the niceties over the necessities!....
.. ..
I Wish You Could Know my Job as a Firefighter
..
.I wish you could feel the sense of pride I have when I raise my hand and take the oath for.my position in the Fire Department.
I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames, or that family returning home, only to find their house and belongings damaged or lost for good.
I wish you could feel the fear of being handed a pink slip telling me that in two weeks I will no longer be employed as a Firefighter due to being laid off, and not knowing where I could find a job doing the thing that I have grown to know not just as a job, but as a passion.
I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for
trapped children, 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 ..3 a.m... 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 too 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 know how it feels to be standing at the nurses station in the hospital's Obstetrics Unit waiting to sign the birth certificate of a baby who just minutes ago I helped to deliver before the mother had the chance to make it to the hospital.
I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning
after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm
fire.
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 an ..EMS...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 behind a closed door with a baseball bat 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,
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 sister,
my girlfriend or a friend? What was her parent’s reaction going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know the anguish I feel when having to defend myself at a worker's compensation hearing, in order to get my medical bills paid for because of injuries or illnesses sustained while in the performance of my duties as a firefighter.
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.
I wish you could feel the hurt we feel as people verbally, and sometimes
physically, abuse us or belittle us for what I do, or as they express their attitudes
of "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could feel how we are chilled to the bone when fighting a fire or performing a rescue in the dead of winter with snow or freezing rain soaking us and freezing our fire gear to our skin.
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or
missed meals, lost sleep and foregone social activities, in addition to all the
tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could see the pain and terror in the eyes of our family members as they are ushered to our bedside in the Emergency 'Room after we've fallen ill or are injured in the line of duty, not knowing the acute or chronic effects of the problem, or if the injury or illness may lead to our death.
I wish you could know the frustration we feel when we are blamed for the closing of fire stations and resulting delayed responses to emergency calls and for the subsequent increase in citizens property insurance premiums when in reality it is due to the mismanagement of city funds by the City Administration in their attempts to make us appear to be the bad guys.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self satisfaction of helping
save life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in time
of crisis, or creating order from chaos.
I wish you could know the pride I feel when a little child comes up to you and says, "I want to grow up and be a firefighter just like you!"
I wish you could understand the happiness we feel when we are approached by a young student while we are off duty, who with pride, introduces us to their parents explaining to them that we were at their school and taught them what to do in case of a fire.
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 have CPR performed on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You know all along he did not have his seat belt on. This is 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.... but, I
wish you could though.....
.. ..
.. ..
-author
unknown.....
.I wish you could feel the sense of pride I have when I raise my hand and take the oath for.my position in the Fire Department.
I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames, or that family returning home, only to find their house and belongings damaged or lost for good.
I wish you could feel the fear of being handed a pink slip telling me that in two weeks I will no longer be employed as a Firefighter due to being laid off, and not knowing where I could find a job doing the thing that I have grown to know not just as a job, but as a passion.
I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for
trapped children, 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 ..3 a.m... 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 too 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 know how it feels to be standing at the nurses station in the hospital's Obstetrics Unit waiting to sign the birth certificate of a baby who just minutes ago I helped to deliver before the mother had the chance to make it to the hospital.
I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning
after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm
fire.
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 an ..EMS...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 behind a closed door with a baseball bat 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,
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 sister,
my girlfriend or a friend? What was her parent’s reaction going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know the anguish I feel when having to defend myself at a worker's compensation hearing, in order to get my medical bills paid for because of injuries or illnesses sustained while in the performance of my duties as a firefighter.
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.
I wish you could feel the hurt we feel as people verbally, and sometimes
physically, abuse us or belittle us for what I do, or as they express their attitudes
of "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could feel how we are chilled to the bone when fighting a fire or performing a rescue in the dead of winter with snow or freezing rain soaking us and freezing our fire gear to our skin.
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or
missed meals, lost sleep and foregone social activities, in addition to all the
tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could see the pain and terror in the eyes of our family members as they are ushered to our bedside in the Emergency 'Room after we've fallen ill or are injured in the line of duty, not knowing the acute or chronic effects of the problem, or if the injury or illness may lead to our death.
I wish you could know the frustration we feel when we are blamed for the closing of fire stations and resulting delayed responses to emergency calls and for the subsequent increase in citizens property insurance premiums when in reality it is due to the mismanagement of city funds by the City Administration in their attempts to make us appear to be the bad guys.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self satisfaction of helping
save life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in time
of crisis, or creating order from chaos.
I wish you could know the pride I feel when a little child comes up to you and says, "I want to grow up and be a firefighter just like you!"
I wish you could understand the happiness we feel when we are approached by a young student while we are off duty, who with pride, introduces us to their parents explaining to them that we were at their school and taught them what to do in case of a fire.
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 have CPR performed on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You know all along he did not have his seat belt on. This is 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.... but, I
wish you could though.....
.. ..
.. ..
-author
unknown.....
World Traveling
I can’t believe it, my baby boy has left home for another adventure of a life-time. To go to the last great frontier, Alaska and attempt to conquer the tundra. After seeing his excitement after he returned from his summer job last year, I knew that he was hooked and it would be just a matter of time before he returned. But then again, after seeing some of his pictures and hearing some of his stories, I want so bad to take a trip up there after I retire. Terri and I need to spend some time together, so an Alaskan Cruise is in the planning stages. We’ll probably fly to Vancouver to meet the cruise ship to take the inland passage and up to Seward. Then I’d like to catch the train for an inland trip to Anchorage, Fairbanks, and then to the Kenai Peninsula. That will be the trip of a lifetime for ME, because I’ll probably never find anything to surpass it or the other trips I’ve enjoyed over the years. In my life I’ve had the unique experiences to travel with the Oberlin Choristers as a chaperone for three of their trips: to England, and Italy with Kyle, and Hawaii with Cory. Due to the time of the year, early summer, Terri wasn’t able to go because she was needed at work. But in my retirement, I hope to make it up to her. I’d love to take her to Italy. That is the most beautiful place I believe I have ever been to. Rome, Florence, Vatican City, all were spectacular venues to visit. Although England was nice, Italy was spectacular!!! If I was to return to England, I’d definitely take the Beatles tour and visit Liverpool, the Cavern, and then on to London. But one place I haven’t been to yet, that I would love to explore by bicycle, would be Ireland. Another place I would love to visit would be Omaha Beach, Normandy and the military cemetary there.
The only problem is time. I don’t know how much quality time I’ve got left. Not to sound morbid or anything, but after suffering one stroke, I wonder just how much time I’ve got before suffering another stroke, or heart attack. I’m trying to take good care of myself, but after having had one episode like the one I had in October, I think its only a matter of time before the next one. I feel guilty for having taken these trips without Terri, but she insisted that I go just to be there with our boys. I hope I’ll be able to repay her with at least one of the trips I’m planning. Before something happens.
The only problem is time. I don’t know how much quality time I’ve got left. Not to sound morbid or anything, but after suffering one stroke, I wonder just how much time I’ve got before suffering another stroke, or heart attack. I’m trying to take good care of myself, but after having had one episode like the one I had in October, I think its only a matter of time before the next one. I feel guilty for having taken these trips without Terri, but she insisted that I go just to be there with our boys. I hope I’ll be able to repay her with at least one of the trips I’m planning. Before something happens.
Lost Loves
Lost Love
I’ve been keeping track of friends and family members through two of the most popular social networking sites on the internet, Facebook and MySpace. Some of my friends and kids from school have been changing their relationship status about as much and as fast as I change my socks. I get sad when I see this knowing that if they are anything like me, any change in my previous relationship statuses was a major trauma for me. It hurts when you are faced with a breakup of with someone you thought you loved. It took me a very long time to get over my break ups. I’m sure the young ladies that were in my life at that time likewise felt the pain of the breakup as well. When my boys went through their traumatic breakups with their longtime girlfriends, it brought to mind the same pain I suffered way back when. After many years past my breakups as I’m sure it is the same with everyone, you wonder what has happened to the significant other. You wonder where their life has taken them. You wonder if they’re happy after moving on with their lives. And you also wonder if they ever think about you, as you sometimes think about them.
Just recently, I heard an old song on the radio that got me thinking more about this. The song was by the Moody Blues. For those of you not old enough to remember this group, The Moody Blues were best known for fusing an orchestral sound with rock and roll, as seen in one of their most popular songs, "Nights in White Satin." The Moody Blues were originally a British rhythm and blues-based band; they later became best known for early progressive rock. The Moody Blues originated in Birmingham, England. The song I mentioned was entitled, “In Your Wildest Dreams”. The lyrics from the first verse got me thinking about the kids today and how they’ll feel in the coming years after having traumatic breakups of their relationships over insignificant immature issues.....
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
I can remember those days of young love, even during those early days of dating my wife… Once upon a time, when we were happily in love (or so we thought). Those days of lovingly staring into each other’s eyes, remembering those reflections we saw. And wondering if they ever think about you, remembering those great times you shared together, and hopefully not remembering those not so great times. But you wonder if they think about you even if its in their wildest dreams. Using Facebook, Twitter, or MySpace, you may be able to find out, even in your own wildest dreams. Knowing the results of others who have found their long lost loves, be careful what you look for. The pain may easily return as your wildest dreams may turn into a wild nightmare.....
I’ve been keeping track of friends and family members through two of the most popular social networking sites on the internet, Facebook and MySpace. Some of my friends and kids from school have been changing their relationship status about as much and as fast as I change my socks. I get sad when I see this knowing that if they are anything like me, any change in my previous relationship statuses was a major trauma for me. It hurts when you are faced with a breakup of with someone you thought you loved. It took me a very long time to get over my break ups. I’m sure the young ladies that were in my life at that time likewise felt the pain of the breakup as well. When my boys went through their traumatic breakups with their longtime girlfriends, it brought to mind the same pain I suffered way back when. After many years past my breakups as I’m sure it is the same with everyone, you wonder what has happened to the significant other. You wonder where their life has taken them. You wonder if they’re happy after moving on with their lives. And you also wonder if they ever think about you, as you sometimes think about them.
Just recently, I heard an old song on the radio that got me thinking more about this. The song was by the Moody Blues. For those of you not old enough to remember this group, The Moody Blues were best known for fusing an orchestral sound with rock and roll, as seen in one of their most popular songs, "Nights in White Satin." The Moody Blues were originally a British rhythm and blues-based band; they later became best known for early progressive rock. The Moody Blues originated in Birmingham, England. The song I mentioned was entitled, “In Your Wildest Dreams”. The lyrics from the first verse got me thinking about the kids today and how they’ll feel in the coming years after having traumatic breakups of their relationships over insignificant immature issues.....
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
I can remember those days of young love, even during those early days of dating my wife… Once upon a time, when we were happily in love (or so we thought). Those days of lovingly staring into each other’s eyes, remembering those reflections we saw. And wondering if they ever think about you, remembering those great times you shared together, and hopefully not remembering those not so great times. But you wonder if they think about you even if its in their wildest dreams. Using Facebook, Twitter, or MySpace, you may be able to find out, even in your own wildest dreams. Knowing the results of others who have found their long lost loves, be careful what you look for. The pain may easily return as your wildest dreams may turn into a wild nightmare.....
LIFE IN 1500s
This is not an original writing. The author for this is unknown, but I found it interesting and hope you do too.
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water.The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water.
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying. It's raining cats and dogs.
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house.This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, Dirt poor. The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying a thresh hold.
(Getting quite an education, aren't you?)
In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old..
Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.
Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a ...dead ringer.
And that's the truth. Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !
Educate someone. Share these facts with a friend.
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the1500s:
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water.The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water.
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying. It's raining cats and dogs.
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house.This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, Dirt poor. The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying a thresh hold.
(Getting quite an education, aren't you?)
In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old..
Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.
Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a ...dead ringer.
And that's the truth. Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !
Educate someone. Share these facts with a friend.
September 11, 2001, 8:48 am
September 11, 2001, 8:48 a.m. ....
For decades to come people will ask of each other, where were you when Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese? Or when President John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas? Or when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded 41 seconds after liftoff? Or, what were you doing September 11, 2002 at approximately 8:48 a.m.?....
I am sitting in the Captain’s Office at Elyria Fire Station #1 performing my morning duties… payroll, the daily job assignments, scheduling inspections, studying reports from the previous shift’s emergency responses. Suddenly, I received a telephone call from a close friend of mine, a retired brother firefighter who exclaims that a plane has just crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. ....
I look at my watch. ....
It is 8:48 a.m. ....
In Manhattan, as in most cities, the majority of the people arrive at their offices ten or fifteen minutes early. Many have carried little white bags from local coffee shops, and are just now taking seats at their desks, anticipating the day's work. How many people are already in the World Trade Center? It must be thousands and thousands. What a terrible accident this threatens to be. ....
.. ..
I picture the firefighters now responding to the alarm. I know what they are thinking. They are thinking of conditions. For every fire, however, the conditions can never be truly imagined until you arrive on the scene. I remember that from all the alarms I have responded to in my own career. Each time there is the anticipation. I never knew what would meet us at the alarm location, never knew what had to be done, just as these firefighters now do not know. A report of a plane going into a building is just the first part of the story. And I’m sure these guys didn’t have the luxury of seeing the events unfold on the television as we all did.....
I am a Captain with the Elyria (Ohio) Fire Department, and an instructor. I teach not only for my own department, and local Vocational School, but I am also an instructor for the Ohio Fire Academy, an adjunct instructor for the National Fire Academy, and an instructor for the International Association of Fire Fighters Hazardous Materials Training Division. I have taught classes throughout the State of Ohio as well as, throughout the entire country. Having taught with or instructed fire fighters throughout the U.S. I feel very much a part of "the brotherhood" with all I have met. Indeed, once a member of its ranks, I don't believe anyone ever leaves them. Friends call me "brother" all the time. ....
At approximately 8:50 I stand in the kitchen of Station #1 with my fellow fire fighters staring in shock at the television. Within minutes another plane has just gone into the south tower. ....
The second crash leaves no doubt that we have been attacked. So many thoughts begin to flow through my mind. This is no accident. As every American must be doing at this moment, I wonder: Who would do this? Who could pull off something this horrendous? This is not as simple an act as parking a truck loaded with 7000 pounds of fertilizing chemicals in front of a federal building in Oklahoma City. No, this could only have been the result of the carefully plotted efforts of a group, and it would have to have been supported by a government or some organization with very big money. And people would have to have been willing to affect their own deaths, like the kamikazes. But where were the kamikazes today? Just one place that I know of. Only the terrorists of the Middle East would do this. They had tried before, in February 1993, and now they have come back to try again. ....
My thoughts are with the fire fighters responding to the Trade Center. I know the drill, for I have been to similar emergencies. None nearly as serious as this, but still serious incident for the City of Elyria. I can picture what the scene will be like at the crash site. It is a major disaster, and will be crowded with professionals-firefighters, cops, emergency medical technicians, nurses, and doctors. During the first hour of operations fire department personnel will be rushing from place to place. To an outsider it might seem like pandemonium, but it will be controlled and orchestrated by people who know fully what they are doing, and with what needs to be done. It is actually organized chaos.....
Pumpers will be connecting to hydrants; ladder trucks will be positioning their aerial platforms; roof men, can men, rescue men, and engine men will all be helping, lifting, and carrying people out of the buildings. Chiefs of every rank will respond. There will be battalion chiefs who wear golden oak leafs, division chiefs who wear golden eagles, division commanders who wear one gold star, deputy assistant chiefs who wear two gold stars, and assistant chiefs who wear three gold stars. Each will have a specific job; each will direct personnel to preassigned duties in evacuation, rescue, or firefighting. The chief in charge, probably Peter Ganci, the chief of department, a circle of five gold stars on his collar, will be setting up his command post in accordance with prefire plans at the fire control panels in the lobby of the first building hit. He will begin to divide the emergency into grid sectors, and assign areas of responsibility. His aide chiefs will be generating blueprints, computer images of specific floor plans and elevator banks, prefire evacuation plans, and personnel assignments on each alarm transmitted. There will be lists of each of the three engine companies and two ladder companies that will respond to each alarm as it is transmitted. How many alarms will there be? I ask myself. Five-alarms is normally as big as it gets. But this is not "normally." A situation requiring more than five alarms would be transmitted as a "borough call." But now the department's Starfire computer system not only makes the first five alarm assignments, but also tracks and moves the nearest ninety engine companies and forty ladder companies to the fire-a force equivalent to twenty-two alarms. Whatever it is called, it will be like a borough call, I think, and companies will come from the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island. ....
I wonder about the conditions. What is the heat like below the fire, going up to it? Heat rises, but there is also radiated heat to consider. How hot is it above? Will the men be able to do a search above the fire? What is the integrity of the stairwells? Can people get down from the floors above? What is the strength of the ceilings and floors? ....
There are thousands of people working in those buildings. Will the evacuation be orderly? Is there enough room to carry equipment like stretchers, hose, Stokes baskets, generators, ropes, and ladders up the stairwells while hordes are coming down? These are all questions that must be going through the mind of the chief of department, if he is there, or the chief in charge, in addition to assessments of firefighting tactics. Is the standpipe system in working order? Is there electricity? Are there fail-safe generators? Are any of the elevators operable to at least get the hose and heavy equipment up? How will the wind affect the burning? Do we go in from the north side of the building or the south? What is the possibility of an inverted burn, in which fire travels downward in high-rise buildings? At which floors do I place my satellite command stations? How many chiefs do I have? Where will I put the staging areas? ....
The irony of "twin" towers does not escape me, for they present two major incidents to the fire department, one in each of the buildings. I know that rescue will be the paramount concern. Will this prove to be the most serious rescue operation in our history? ....
Helicopters are certain to be dispatched to pick people off the roofs, but I wonder about the thermal columns. Can a helicopter get close enough to drop a rope and a man? If the fire is too great, they can't place the people on the street at risk if the chopper falls. ....
I can see now on the television just how much fire is coming out of the buildings. Entire floors are involved. I've been in the World Trade Center, and I have a general idea about what is involved. There are many large areas with no interior columns, lots of open space for a fire to burn freely. This would be a five alarm call even if only one building were involved. Besides the helicopters, all the special equipment companies will respond-the hazmat team, the squad companies, the rescue companies, the mask service unit, the high-rise unit, the field communications units, the foam unit, and the fire boats. This is a fire and rescue operation, and New York has twelve thousand firefighters. Within an hour, I am estimating, the operations will have been planned, the defenses put in place, and the rescues and evacuations will be well under way.....
I am attached to the television as if every friend I ever had is about to cross the screen. I have several friends…, no BROTHERS, on the FDNY, including five fellow HazMat instructors with the IAFF. Three are Chief Officers who I know are in the main lobby manning the Command Post, assisting the Incident Commander. The other two are firefighters who are either in the stairwells, climbing toward the fires or enroute from their firehouse in Stanton Island. As I stare at the images on the television screen, fear grips my heart for what my Brothers are and will be facing.....
The helicopter shots are mesmerizing. In my mind's eye I try to visualize what is happening in the towers as I see the flames shooting from their sides. How many have been killed by the impact of the planes, and how many have been burned by the fires? How many will be living, and how many will be dead? How many will be trapped on the fire floor, above the fire, and below the fire in collapsed areas? And the firefighters? How many flights of stairs will they have to run up, and how many minutes will it take them to reach the fire floors? How many firefighters are at this very minute racing into the buildings to get to those who need help? ....
How many will be caught above the fires? It looks like there are ten stories above the fire in the north tower that haven't been hit directly by the plane, and maybe twenty-five stories above the fire in the south tower. Oh, my God, I cry to myself. How many people are on each floor? An acre each floor. Maybe two hundred or more? Thousands. And what will they do? Did the planes take out the fire stairs? The fire will go right up the stairwells, like a chimney. No one will be able to get to the roof. Maybe the only way they can be saved is by extinguishing the fire and bringing ladders in. That will take hours, maybe days. It is so hot above a fire. I have been there many times in the tenements of the Bronx on some of my visits to the greatest city in the world, hot and dangerous. And if the stairs are out, the situation will be untenable. How many are trapped at this very moment, trying to come to grips with their own end? ....
How many? It is a natural reaction to contemplate the numbers. But I know that I must think only of the individuals affected. Even one person is too many to be in the presence of such mortal danger, yet I know that fundamental to this terrible incident will be the numbers. ....
The heat must be extraordinary, generated by aircraft with fuel-filled wings. I remember a question on the lieutenant's test of many years ago: What is the expansion factor of a one-hundred-foot steel beam as it reaches the inherent heat level of 1200 degrees Fahrenheit? The answer is nine and a half inches, and I try to gauge how hot this fire before me is burning. Is it intense enough to bring the steel to 1200 degrees? The smoke is first very black, indicating the burning fuel, and then white as it rises, indicating great heat. It is not a good sign. If the steel stretches, the floor will collapse, and that will only make the rescue effort more difficult. ....
We are at the beginning of a war. No one could send two planes into our largest buildings without a grander plan, and I fear there will be more to follow this disaster. ....
Suddenly, our Dispatcher makes an urgent call for me to report to our Watch Office. When I reach the office, he tells me that I have to listen to the message he just received over our 9-1-1 system. He plays the audio recall. It is a recorded message from the Director of the Lorain County Emergency Management Agency. In his message he states that: “… I have been informed by (Federal Aviation Administration Oberlin Air Traffic Control Center) that there is ‘a situation in the air over Lorain County.’” He further stated that he had no idea what was meant by this message, that no further details were provided to him. At 9:45 a third plane goes into the Pentagon, and I begin to make my way toward the outside door, gazing skyward wondering what could possibly be going on in the skies overhead. (We would later hear that a plane made a drastic turn over Lake Erie, cross our north coast between Avon Point and Lorain, and fly over the County heading east only to crash in a field in Pennsylvania.)....
The notion of an enemy's attacking us in the innocence of our early morning is repellent. The Pentagon-the very heart of our military strength, and New York City – the financial capital of our nation... How could they have stolen these planes? The question vibrates within me. How could they have gotten onto our planes with guns or weapons? Why didn't someone notice what they were doing, or suspect them? But it is not like us, we Americans, to be suspicious. It is our optimism that prevents us from attributing evil intentions to others; it is our need to protect the rights of everyone that leads us to think the best of people. And that is our strength, actually; this basic freedom to walk around freely without suspicion makes America what it is. But it is that very attitude that also leaves us so vulnerable. One might argue that the price we pay to protect our freedom is to be tolerant of strangers. All any American needs to do is to look around his community to recognize that we are indeed a nation of strangers. Our cultural diversity is so great that even our good friends and professional colleagues have cultural traits and assumptions that we do not share, or even understand. That is the way it should be in an open society. But how do I explain to myself, and to my children, that our freedoms have led to this horrible event? ....
It angers me; I want to know whom to blame. I am certain, deep in my heart, that this attack is connected to the first attempt on the World Trade Center back in 1993. Ramzi Yousef, who planned that bombing, and his cohort, the blind sheikh Omar Abdul Rahman, are today in federal prison. The sheikh has been in Springfield, Missouri, since 1995, serving several life sentences. Yousef was sentenced to 240 years in a maximum-security prison in Florence, Colorado. I remember how defiant and remorseless they were, and that memory only serves to anger me even more. ....
I can shake that feeling only by picturing the firefighters climbing up those stairs in the highest buildings in New York. It is a tough climb in any circumstance, but they will have mask tanks on their backs and hose and tools in their hands, equipment that will make them about sixty pounds heavier. It takes a person with exceptional commitment to do this, and I know it will not be easy for them. I am thinking about this as our guys climb a maximum of thirteen floors in our community. I know how difficult this climb could be, but it’s hard to imagine climbing 80+ floors under the extremes these firefighters are now facing.....
On Church and Vesey Streets at the base of the Trade Center complex the streets are packed with people. The trains have stopped, the buses are not stopping at the bus stops. I stand feeling helpless, wanting to do something, but being separated by hundreds of miles, I’m unable to do anything but watch… and say a quiet prayer.....
A killing storm of terrorism has transformed our lives. We have been swept from a peaceful Tuesday in September 2001 into a calendar of war. New York, Washington, D.C., and a quiet green meadow in Pennsylvania have been attacked, and our fields are now strewn with the blood of heroes. All of us in the Western world are shocked, awestruck, puzzled, and furious. ....
There is no center to this day, no middle or end. All its remaining minutes and hours will be collapsed into that single instant at 8:48 a.m. when September 11, 2001, became the saddest day of our history.....
.. ..
As President Franklin Delanor Roosevelt stated in his speech to Congress on that December morning in 1941: “Yesterday, December 7, 1941… a date that will live in infamy…”, so, too, will September 11, 2001 be “a date that will live in infamy.”....
For decades to come people will ask of each other, where were you when Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese? Or when President John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas? Or when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded 41 seconds after liftoff? Or, what were you doing September 11, 2002 at approximately 8:48 a.m.?....
I am sitting in the Captain’s Office at Elyria Fire Station #1 performing my morning duties… payroll, the daily job assignments, scheduling inspections, studying reports from the previous shift’s emergency responses. Suddenly, I received a telephone call from a close friend of mine, a retired brother firefighter who exclaims that a plane has just crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. ....
I look at my watch. ....
It is 8:48 a.m. ....
In Manhattan, as in most cities, the majority of the people arrive at their offices ten or fifteen minutes early. Many have carried little white bags from local coffee shops, and are just now taking seats at their desks, anticipating the day's work. How many people are already in the World Trade Center? It must be thousands and thousands. What a terrible accident this threatens to be. ....
.. ..
I picture the firefighters now responding to the alarm. I know what they are thinking. They are thinking of conditions. For every fire, however, the conditions can never be truly imagined until you arrive on the scene. I remember that from all the alarms I have responded to in my own career. Each time there is the anticipation. I never knew what would meet us at the alarm location, never knew what had to be done, just as these firefighters now do not know. A report of a plane going into a building is just the first part of the story. And I’m sure these guys didn’t have the luxury of seeing the events unfold on the television as we all did.....
I am a Captain with the Elyria (Ohio) Fire Department, and an instructor. I teach not only for my own department, and local Vocational School, but I am also an instructor for the Ohio Fire Academy, an adjunct instructor for the National Fire Academy, and an instructor for the International Association of Fire Fighters Hazardous Materials Training Division. I have taught classes throughout the State of Ohio as well as, throughout the entire country. Having taught with or instructed fire fighters throughout the U.S. I feel very much a part of "the brotherhood" with all I have met. Indeed, once a member of its ranks, I don't believe anyone ever leaves them. Friends call me "brother" all the time. ....
At approximately 8:50 I stand in the kitchen of Station #1 with my fellow fire fighters staring in shock at the television. Within minutes another plane has just gone into the south tower. ....
The second crash leaves no doubt that we have been attacked. So many thoughts begin to flow through my mind. This is no accident. As every American must be doing at this moment, I wonder: Who would do this? Who could pull off something this horrendous? This is not as simple an act as parking a truck loaded with 7000 pounds of fertilizing chemicals in front of a federal building in Oklahoma City. No, this could only have been the result of the carefully plotted efforts of a group, and it would have to have been supported by a government or some organization with very big money. And people would have to have been willing to affect their own deaths, like the kamikazes. But where were the kamikazes today? Just one place that I know of. Only the terrorists of the Middle East would do this. They had tried before, in February 1993, and now they have come back to try again. ....
My thoughts are with the fire fighters responding to the Trade Center. I know the drill, for I have been to similar emergencies. None nearly as serious as this, but still serious incident for the City of Elyria. I can picture what the scene will be like at the crash site. It is a major disaster, and will be crowded with professionals-firefighters, cops, emergency medical technicians, nurses, and doctors. During the first hour of operations fire department personnel will be rushing from place to place. To an outsider it might seem like pandemonium, but it will be controlled and orchestrated by people who know fully what they are doing, and with what needs to be done. It is actually organized chaos.....
Pumpers will be connecting to hydrants; ladder trucks will be positioning their aerial platforms; roof men, can men, rescue men, and engine men will all be helping, lifting, and carrying people out of the buildings. Chiefs of every rank will respond. There will be battalion chiefs who wear golden oak leafs, division chiefs who wear golden eagles, division commanders who wear one gold star, deputy assistant chiefs who wear two gold stars, and assistant chiefs who wear three gold stars. Each will have a specific job; each will direct personnel to preassigned duties in evacuation, rescue, or firefighting. The chief in charge, probably Peter Ganci, the chief of department, a circle of five gold stars on his collar, will be setting up his command post in accordance with prefire plans at the fire control panels in the lobby of the first building hit. He will begin to divide the emergency into grid sectors, and assign areas of responsibility. His aide chiefs will be generating blueprints, computer images of specific floor plans and elevator banks, prefire evacuation plans, and personnel assignments on each alarm transmitted. There will be lists of each of the three engine companies and two ladder companies that will respond to each alarm as it is transmitted. How many alarms will there be? I ask myself. Five-alarms is normally as big as it gets. But this is not "normally." A situation requiring more than five alarms would be transmitted as a "borough call." But now the department's Starfire computer system not only makes the first five alarm assignments, but also tracks and moves the nearest ninety engine companies and forty ladder companies to the fire-a force equivalent to twenty-two alarms. Whatever it is called, it will be like a borough call, I think, and companies will come from the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island. ....
I wonder about the conditions. What is the heat like below the fire, going up to it? Heat rises, but there is also radiated heat to consider. How hot is it above? Will the men be able to do a search above the fire? What is the integrity of the stairwells? Can people get down from the floors above? What is the strength of the ceilings and floors? ....
There are thousands of people working in those buildings. Will the evacuation be orderly? Is there enough room to carry equipment like stretchers, hose, Stokes baskets, generators, ropes, and ladders up the stairwells while hordes are coming down? These are all questions that must be going through the mind of the chief of department, if he is there, or the chief in charge, in addition to assessments of firefighting tactics. Is the standpipe system in working order? Is there electricity? Are there fail-safe generators? Are any of the elevators operable to at least get the hose and heavy equipment up? How will the wind affect the burning? Do we go in from the north side of the building or the south? What is the possibility of an inverted burn, in which fire travels downward in high-rise buildings? At which floors do I place my satellite command stations? How many chiefs do I have? Where will I put the staging areas? ....
The irony of "twin" towers does not escape me, for they present two major incidents to the fire department, one in each of the buildings. I know that rescue will be the paramount concern. Will this prove to be the most serious rescue operation in our history? ....
Helicopters are certain to be dispatched to pick people off the roofs, but I wonder about the thermal columns. Can a helicopter get close enough to drop a rope and a man? If the fire is too great, they can't place the people on the street at risk if the chopper falls. ....
I can see now on the television just how much fire is coming out of the buildings. Entire floors are involved. I've been in the World Trade Center, and I have a general idea about what is involved. There are many large areas with no interior columns, lots of open space for a fire to burn freely. This would be a five alarm call even if only one building were involved. Besides the helicopters, all the special equipment companies will respond-the hazmat team, the squad companies, the rescue companies, the mask service unit, the high-rise unit, the field communications units, the foam unit, and the fire boats. This is a fire and rescue operation, and New York has twelve thousand firefighters. Within an hour, I am estimating, the operations will have been planned, the defenses put in place, and the rescues and evacuations will be well under way.....
I am attached to the television as if every friend I ever had is about to cross the screen. I have several friends…, no BROTHERS, on the FDNY, including five fellow HazMat instructors with the IAFF. Three are Chief Officers who I know are in the main lobby manning the Command Post, assisting the Incident Commander. The other two are firefighters who are either in the stairwells, climbing toward the fires or enroute from their firehouse in Stanton Island. As I stare at the images on the television screen, fear grips my heart for what my Brothers are and will be facing.....
The helicopter shots are mesmerizing. In my mind's eye I try to visualize what is happening in the towers as I see the flames shooting from their sides. How many have been killed by the impact of the planes, and how many have been burned by the fires? How many will be living, and how many will be dead? How many will be trapped on the fire floor, above the fire, and below the fire in collapsed areas? And the firefighters? How many flights of stairs will they have to run up, and how many minutes will it take them to reach the fire floors? How many firefighters are at this very minute racing into the buildings to get to those who need help? ....
How many will be caught above the fires? It looks like there are ten stories above the fire in the north tower that haven't been hit directly by the plane, and maybe twenty-five stories above the fire in the south tower. Oh, my God, I cry to myself. How many people are on each floor? An acre each floor. Maybe two hundred or more? Thousands. And what will they do? Did the planes take out the fire stairs? The fire will go right up the stairwells, like a chimney. No one will be able to get to the roof. Maybe the only way they can be saved is by extinguishing the fire and bringing ladders in. That will take hours, maybe days. It is so hot above a fire. I have been there many times in the tenements of the Bronx on some of my visits to the greatest city in the world, hot and dangerous. And if the stairs are out, the situation will be untenable. How many are trapped at this very moment, trying to come to grips with their own end? ....
How many? It is a natural reaction to contemplate the numbers. But I know that I must think only of the individuals affected. Even one person is too many to be in the presence of such mortal danger, yet I know that fundamental to this terrible incident will be the numbers. ....
The heat must be extraordinary, generated by aircraft with fuel-filled wings. I remember a question on the lieutenant's test of many years ago: What is the expansion factor of a one-hundred-foot steel beam as it reaches the inherent heat level of 1200 degrees Fahrenheit? The answer is nine and a half inches, and I try to gauge how hot this fire before me is burning. Is it intense enough to bring the steel to 1200 degrees? The smoke is first very black, indicating the burning fuel, and then white as it rises, indicating great heat. It is not a good sign. If the steel stretches, the floor will collapse, and that will only make the rescue effort more difficult. ....
We are at the beginning of a war. No one could send two planes into our largest buildings without a grander plan, and I fear there will be more to follow this disaster. ....
Suddenly, our Dispatcher makes an urgent call for me to report to our Watch Office. When I reach the office, he tells me that I have to listen to the message he just received over our 9-1-1 system. He plays the audio recall. It is a recorded message from the Director of the Lorain County Emergency Management Agency. In his message he states that: “… I have been informed by (Federal Aviation Administration Oberlin Air Traffic Control Center) that there is ‘a situation in the air over Lorain County.’” He further stated that he had no idea what was meant by this message, that no further details were provided to him. At 9:45 a third plane goes into the Pentagon, and I begin to make my way toward the outside door, gazing skyward wondering what could possibly be going on in the skies overhead. (We would later hear that a plane made a drastic turn over Lake Erie, cross our north coast between Avon Point and Lorain, and fly over the County heading east only to crash in a field in Pennsylvania.)....
The notion of an enemy's attacking us in the innocence of our early morning is repellent. The Pentagon-the very heart of our military strength, and New York City – the financial capital of our nation... How could they have stolen these planes? The question vibrates within me. How could they have gotten onto our planes with guns or weapons? Why didn't someone notice what they were doing, or suspect them? But it is not like us, we Americans, to be suspicious. It is our optimism that prevents us from attributing evil intentions to others; it is our need to protect the rights of everyone that leads us to think the best of people. And that is our strength, actually; this basic freedom to walk around freely without suspicion makes America what it is. But it is that very attitude that also leaves us so vulnerable. One might argue that the price we pay to protect our freedom is to be tolerant of strangers. All any American needs to do is to look around his community to recognize that we are indeed a nation of strangers. Our cultural diversity is so great that even our good friends and professional colleagues have cultural traits and assumptions that we do not share, or even understand. That is the way it should be in an open society. But how do I explain to myself, and to my children, that our freedoms have led to this horrible event? ....
It angers me; I want to know whom to blame. I am certain, deep in my heart, that this attack is connected to the first attempt on the World Trade Center back in 1993. Ramzi Yousef, who planned that bombing, and his cohort, the blind sheikh Omar Abdul Rahman, are today in federal prison. The sheikh has been in Springfield, Missouri, since 1995, serving several life sentences. Yousef was sentenced to 240 years in a maximum-security prison in Florence, Colorado. I remember how defiant and remorseless they were, and that memory only serves to anger me even more. ....
I can shake that feeling only by picturing the firefighters climbing up those stairs in the highest buildings in New York. It is a tough climb in any circumstance, but they will have mask tanks on their backs and hose and tools in their hands, equipment that will make them about sixty pounds heavier. It takes a person with exceptional commitment to do this, and I know it will not be easy for them. I am thinking about this as our guys climb a maximum of thirteen floors in our community. I know how difficult this climb could be, but it’s hard to imagine climbing 80+ floors under the extremes these firefighters are now facing.....
On Church and Vesey Streets at the base of the Trade Center complex the streets are packed with people. The trains have stopped, the buses are not stopping at the bus stops. I stand feeling helpless, wanting to do something, but being separated by hundreds of miles, I’m unable to do anything but watch… and say a quiet prayer.....
A killing storm of terrorism has transformed our lives. We have been swept from a peaceful Tuesday in September 2001 into a calendar of war. New York, Washington, D.C., and a quiet green meadow in Pennsylvania have been attacked, and our fields are now strewn with the blood of heroes. All of us in the Western world are shocked, awestruck, puzzled, and furious. ....
There is no center to this day, no middle or end. All its remaining minutes and hours will be collapsed into that single instant at 8:48 a.m. when September 11, 2001, became the saddest day of our history.....
.. ..
As President Franklin Delanor Roosevelt stated in his speech to Congress on that December morning in 1941: “Yesterday, December 7, 1941… a date that will live in infamy…”, so, too, will September 11, 2001 be “a date that will live in infamy.”....
Christmas Eve 1984
THIS IS A RE-POST FROM LAST YEAR, BUT SINCE THE HOLIDAY SEASON IS NOW UPON US, AND THIS BLOG WAS DROPPED, I THOUGHT I'D PUT IT BACK ON MY BLOG SITE.
There have been occasions in my line of work where I've experience miracles. One took place on Christmas Eve 1984. While on duty at our City's Ambulance service, My partner and I responded to a call of an unresponsive male". Upon arriving on scene, we were met at the door by an elderly woman who said that her husband was not acting right. She escorted us into the living room where we found her husband, an 82 year old man, sitting in a chair. He greeted us with a "Hi ya fellas" waving to us with his left hand. We questioned him as to what his problem was, He stated that he experienced a headache earlier in the evening as he was getting dress to go to midnight mass. He said that he sat in his chair to relax until his daughter was to come pick them up, and then found that his entire right side "went dead". He could not move his entire right side. Following protocols for stroke victims, we immediately got him started on high flow oxygen via a non=rebreather mask and got an IV established. He did not appear to be in any other distress. We loaded him onto our cot and placed him in our ambulance for transport to the hospital . His daughter arrived just prior to us leaving the scene at which time both his wife and daughter became very distraught, crying uncontrollably. We attempted to reassure them that he appered to be stable at that time and that our quick response to the ER would help him. I attempted to reassure him as we were enroute to the hospital. As he cried that he was afraid that he would die and forever ruin the holiday for his children and grandchildren. I asked him if he believed in Christmas miracles. Sobbing he answered, "I Hope too!"
I smiled at him, patted him on the shoulder and asked him if he would like to pray with me. He nodded and grasped my hand as I prayed aloud, "Dear Father, please hear my prayer as I plead for your mercy as I pray for Henry in his time of need. Please put strength in place of his weakness, health in place of his sickness, comfort in place of his pain and faith in place of his doubts. And if it is you will, Father, grant him an early return to his normal routine of life and service to you. In Jesus name we pray . Amen". He smiled and squeezed my hand, tears welling up in his eyes he thanked me. I got on the radio and contacted medical control at the Emergency room and alerted them of our pending arrival.
Upon our arrival, the medical staff was assembled and prepared for our arrival. Just as we arrived, we were alerted by Dispatch of a pending call for a motor vehicle accident with possible injuries. After transferring patient care to the hospital staff, we left for the accident scene. I told him that I would check on him when we returned.
The accident was only a fender bender, but did require us to transport one driver with a suspected neck injury. Upon our return to the ER, we placed our second patient of the evening three beds down from where we took our first patient who was not in his bed. Fearing the worst, I asked one of the nurses as to the whereabouts of our first patient. She said that he was taken down to radiology to undergo a CAT Scan.. Relieved, we went into one of the offices to begin our reports, As I completed the first report I saw our first patient return from Radiology. He saw me in the office and hollered for me. "Hey young fella". I walked over to his bedside next to where his wife and daughter sat. "You know what you asked me in the ambulance about believing in Christmas miracles?" When I told him "Yes", he reached across the bed with his right hand and grabbed my arm. We all cried as we experienced the mighty power of prayer. The Christmas miracle had taken place as I had hoped.
For the next several years, firefighters who tested the fire hydrant in front of his house were always greeted by this elderly gentleman. And his wife always had a pitcher of iced lemonade for the guys. They always insisted that they take a break and "have a cool one" with him and his wife. She always delivered a tray of homemade cookies every Christmas to Fire Station #2 where I worked.
About four years later, when I was assigned to test the hydrant in front of their house, the elderly gentleman did not greet us as he usually had done. I questioned a neighbor who was out doing some yardwork. Sadly he told me that he had passed away earlier that year from complications from a heart procedure.
Every Christmas Eve when I attend services at my church, I always say a prayer for my old friend who proved to us all that Christmas miracles do occur if you just believe in the power of prayer.
CHRISTMAS EVE 1989
As we approach Christmas 2009, I reflect back on Christmas’ past. Some are more memorable than others. In the above blog I wrote about a Christmas Eve 1984 miracle I experienced in saving a man’s life after he suffered a stroke. Having suffered one myself in October of 2008 made me appreciate all the more the miracle of modern medicine and the power of prayer.
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This blog refers to Christmas Eve 1989. The excitement and anticipation of another Christmas with Terri and my boys was growing throughout the season. Except this year, we had the addition of a new baby. Cory was born in March of this year. And as we experienced with both James and Kyle during their first Christmas. The joy and excitement showing in their faces as they see the lights on the Christmas tree and all of the colorful paper, and ribbons, and bows on the many gifts under the tree. But even during their earliest Christmas, we introduced the boys to the true meaning and reason for Christmas. They were read the Christmas Story according to the book of St. Luke from the Bible. And they were shown the Nativity Scene we had assembled on our mantel. It was always so cute when they would point to the various members of the HOLY FAMILY with their chubby little fingers to the Baby Jesus, and Jesus’ Mommy and Daddy. I looked forward to introducing Cory to the ritual and tradition of our baby’s first Christmas. Unfortunately, Cory’s introduction to this tradition was held away from home on his first Christmas in a setting that for me was very scarey.
On the morning of Christmas Eve 1989, Cory woke as normal around 9:00 am with a cry. I was in the living room with Kyle, as usual, sitting on my lap with a book in hand. Terri went up and retrieved Cory from his crib. She brought him down the stairs clutching him tightly swaddling him in his blanket. I could see a look of concern on her face as she sat with the baby on the couch. “Whats wrong?” I asked. Terri replied, “He’s burning up with a fever.” I was not that concerned at first, as the boys would spike a little fever with no warning due to a cold or ear infection. Both James and Kyle were experts at spiking fevers in a moment’s notice, scaring us on a regular basis. Just about everytime we would contact their pediatrician who would diagnose an ear infection, prescribe amoxicillin (bubblegum medicine) and children’s Tylenol to contol the fever. I figured this same routine would take place. But prior to calling the doctor, I wanted to get his temperature. We changed his diaper and I became much more concerned because the heat from his little body was much more than I ever remember from either of the other two boys. I carefully took his temperature rectally to get the most accurate reading. 104.5o ....
Oh, my God. I struggled to remain calm as I held Cory’s limp little body in my arms. I gave him the prescribed dose of Tylenol hoping that within a short time his temperature would start to decline. I told Terri to call the Doctor as I tried to get Cory to drink some cooled Pedialite from his bottle. He acted like he was thirsty and hungry, but didn’t want to have anything to do with the bottle. He cried as I rocked him in my arms. I was scared, but I didn’t want to let on to Terri that I was scared. Once she got through to the doctor’s answering service, she was told that our pediatrician was not on call for the holidays., but was given the phone number for the doctor on-call. She managed to get a hold of this doctor who immediately told Terri to meet him at his office as soon as possible with the baby. I helped her dress little Cory for his visit to the Doctor’s Office. Both James and Kyle, not knowing exactly what was going on, were aware that something was wrong with their baby brother. AS Terri prepared to leave, Kyle began to cry. I picked him up and held him by the front window as we waved to Mommy and Cory as they backed out of the driveway. When I put Kyle down, he immediately retrieved one of his Christmas story books and brought it to me to read to him. He climbed onto my lap with his book and jabbered something to me. I held him tightly in my arms rocking him in my chair as I read to him my favorite part from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”. I read to him the part when little Linus stood alone on the stage and recited the Christmas Story explaining to Charlie Brown what Christmas was all about. I read to him with tears in my eyes concerned about our little baby. Kyle reached his chubby little hand up to my cheek and wiped away the tears streaming down my cheek. He jabbered something to me again, I think he was trying to comfort me as much as a three-year old could try. I held him tightly kissing him on the forehead. James stood next to my chair watching this unfold in front of him, confused as to why Daddy was crying. He lightly rubbed my arm also trying to comfort me.....
Then the phone rang. Answering it quickly I heard Terri. It sounded as if she was crying as she told me that the doctor was having Cory admitted to the hospital for observation and testing. I got the boys dressed as quickly as I could, loaded them in the van and met her at the hospital with our sick little boy. We were escourted to the pediatric ward on the fourth floor. The bed they had assigned to Cory was outfitted with an oxygen tent. Terri changed Cory’s diaper and dressed him in his hospital gown and laid him in the bed. He cried, scared of what was happening around him a nurse was preparing two bags of saline solution and piggybacked a smaller bag of a strong liquid antibiotic that would be administered though an IV. I had seen IV’s started many times on patients in my line of work. but having to hold down your own baby as needles were stuck in his tiny little arms to administer the medication as he screamed, looking at me with those pleading little eyes to make them stop hurting him. I cried as he did as the IVs were being established. They took several vials of blood at that time and several more times throughout his stay in the hospital. ....
....
With the current trauma of getting him settled Terri prepared to take James and Kyle home as I was prepared to stay the night at Cory’s bedside.As the boys came to me to kiss me goodbye. I picked them up to say their goodbyes to Cory and tried to explain what had taken place and why their little brother was crying, tryin to explain that he was mostly scared and that we were not really hurting him. I’m not sure that I convinced them, but it seemed like they shared our concern for their little brother. They both leaned into the tented bed and kissed their baby brother goodbye. I cried as they did this not knowing if this could possibly be their final goodbye to their baby brother.....
About an hour after Terri left with the boys the doctor came into the room with a stack of papers , results from the initial tests that had been done earlier that day. The results indicated that Cory had a severe “blood infection”, cause unknown. He was on the verge of having a pneumonia. And more medication was going to be administered through his IVs. More blood was taken for followup tests. I hated having to hold his chubby little arm still as the technician stuck him with the hypodermic needle to draw the blood. He struggle and tried to pull his little arm out of my grasp, screaming all the while. I tried to comfort him the best I could as the needle was driven into his tiny little vein to withdraw the blood. The technician laughed about how strong Cory was as we both struggled to keep him still during the procedure. A chest x-ray was also ordered and the radiologist brought a portable x-ray unit into Cory’s room I asked to hold him to get him to stop crying before they started with the x-rays. They brought in a bottle of formula so I could feed him. This settled him down enough to allow the x-rays to be taken. They showed a slight amount of congestion in the upper lobes of both lungs. This brought in more people (respiratory therapists) to his room, causing more confusion and anxiety for Cory. He was to have respiratory therapy every three hours. Every four hours they came in to his room to draw more blood. This went on throughout the night. The nurse brought in a cot for me to sleep on next to his bed. I sat in a rocking chair giving Cory his 11:00 feeding. I rocked him as he quietly dozed watching the 11:00 news. AS the weather came on the local weather reporter showed the weather radar which showed an unusual blip on the radar screen heading south over Lake Erie from the Canadian shoreline. It was the first indication that Santa Claus was on his way. As he spoke about Santa’s impending arrival in our area of northern Ohio, I clutched Cory tightly to my chest and sobbed, not knowing if my baby boy would survive the night. Would this most wonderful holiday forever be a remembrance for the death of a baby boy instead of a celebration of one’s birth? Oh how alone I felt. A nurse passing by the room looked in and saw me crying she came in and took Cory from me and placed him gently back in his bed. She then turned to me and we talked for a long time. All the while she had her hand on my arm comforting me, telling me that Cory was stable and now appeared to be coming out of danger. His white blood cell count was dropping significantly according to her indicating that the infection was successfully being treated by the medication.....
After she left the room, I kissed Cory on the forehead and wished him a Merry Christmas and Good night. I laid down on the cot and fell asleep. It was shortly after 1:00 am when I heard the door to our room open. I reached over to the night stand next to my cot for my glasses thinking that the phlebotomist was in to draw more blood. To my surprise I saw entering the room was Santa Clause! I mean what to my wondering eyes should appear but, Old St. Nick himself. I laid quietly as I watched the old gentleman walk silently across the room. He unzipped the wall of the oxygen tent and stood lightly rubbing Cory on the back as I heard him say, “Honey, Santa would never forget your first Christmas.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a stuff animal and placed it in Cory’s bed next to him. He stood next to his bed after zipping the oxygen ten shut lowered his head and folded his hands and said a little prayer. He gave himself the sign of the cross and quietly walked out of the room. I laid there, not sure of what I had just seen. Did I dream this wonderful sequence of events or did it happen? I got out of bed and checked on Cory, he was sleeping soundly and laying next to him in the corner of his bed was a small stuffed animal, a dog with a Christmas ribbon tied around its neck. Just then I heard the door open again, turning around I saw Santa again at the door. He raised a finger and said to me, “Dad, No one is supposed to see Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas and God bless you and that beautiful little boy!” I stood with my mouth open for what seemed like several minutes not knowing what to say or do after he walked down the hallway and away. I sat back on the cot and again cried. Here was a man who took time out of his late night to dress up as Santa Clause and deliver presents to sick children confined to the hospital not knowing if he would be seen or not. But I saw him and he spoke to me on Christmas Eve. Here was a man who made me feel a lot better and gave me a new sense of hope that Cory was going to be okay. I drifted back off to sleep when around 3:00 am the door opened, the lights came on, and several people entered the room. More blood to be drawn, respiratory therapy to be given and a new bag of medication to be replaced with the IV solutions. I sat on the edge of the cot and reached for my glasses, and next to them was a candy cane with a note attached to it by a green ribbon. The note said, “And Dad, Santa didn’t forget you either. Merry Christmas! Love Santa”,....
.. ..
I stood next to Cory’s bed with the gift in hand reading the note crying softly. One of the nurse came to my side and put her arm around my shoulder, saying that Cory was going to be all right. I showed her the note, and she smiled squeezing my arm.....
For any of you who have seen the movie Polar Express, the whole emphasis of the movie is to believe. Believe in Santa Clause, believe in the miracles of Christmas, believe in the wonders of this glorious season, and believe in the wondrous birth of the baby in the manger. I can tell you that “I BELIEVE!” Cory, of course, recovered with no residual affects from his illness. Every Christmas when I reflect on that one very special night in the hospital and even now as I put these words to print, I can’t help but become emotional, tearing up and crying as I remember how one man made a difference in my life on that lonely Christmas Eve in 1989.....
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Friday, November 13, 2009
ONCE A FIREFIGHTER, ALWAYS A FIREFIGHTER
This is a repost of one of my Blogs to my Father last Fathers' Day.
"Once a Fire Fighter, Always a Fire Fighter"....
.. ..As a child, my dream was to one day become a firefighter like my Father. When I was four years old, I realized how much that dream meant to me… not because of the sirens or flashing lights, or having the ability to squirt water through a hose on a flaming inferno. I wanted to become a firefighter because I wanted to be able to hang on the back step of the fire engine as it raced down the street. Back in those days, before all the NFPA and OSHA regulations prohibiting such actions, at least one firefighter rode on the back step to enable a quick dropping of the larger diameter hose at a hydrant to supply the pump with water. I wanted to do that, just like my Dad.....
.. ..On one particular morning, I waited at the kitchen window by the breakfast table waiting for my Dad to arrive home from work. When he arrived, he stepped from his car and trudged to the door and entered the kitchen to be greeted by my Mother. Dad grunted a "Hello" to me as he sat down at the table being served his morning cup of coffee before rushing to his "B" job, necessary to make ends meet for the family. I anxiously waited to make a Big Announcement to the family.....
.. .."I know what I want to be when I grow up," I proudly announced.....
.. ..My Father grunted, "Now what?" somewhat grumpily. It seemed that he had spent the vast majority of the night at some sort of emergency and was very tired. When he was tired he was usually crabby.....
.. .."I want to be a firefighter just like you."....
.. ..Instead of encouraging me that morning, or at least humoring me, he totally burst my bubble and exploded saying, "No son of mine will ever be a firefighter!" He continued to explain through his tirade, "…the job is unappreciated, …you're underpaid, …it's dangerous work with shoddy equipment…" and he continued on and on. My Mother stood behind him with a somewhat angry look on her face, but then looked in my direction with a look of sympathy and caring. I turned around and again looked out the window because I didn't want HIM to see me cry.....
.. ..As I rested my chin on my hands on the windowsill I watched the traffic go down the street. Then I saw it. It slowly rolled down the street and caught my full attention. As it stopped at our driveway I turned and made my next startling revelation to the family.....
.. .."Now I know what I want to be when I grow up," I proudly announced again, as defiant as a four-year old could be.....
.. ..My Mother then asked me "What, honey?" as Dad took another sip of his coffee, now looking in my direction.....
"I want to be a Garbage Man!" … not so much because he got to collect all of the neighborhood treasures left on the treelawns, but because HE got to hang on to the back end of the garbage truck.....
.. ..Coffee almost came out of my Father's nose as Mom smacked him on the back of the head with the kitchen towel that was previously draped over her shoulder. Mom let him have it for not encouraging me when he had the chance, and NOW my life's ambition had now turned to be, in today's terminology, a Sanitation Engineer.....
.. ..Well, my life's ambition took many changes as I grew up, but the one that really comes to mind today was when I started my first job after high school. The summer before going off to college I worked for the Lorain County Metro Parks. As a first-year laborer, my primary job, especially on Monday mornings after a busy picnic-filled weekend, was to clean the parks, and that included collecting garbage. When I returned home from work that first day, I was filthy, smelly, and tired. Dad looked at me with a smile, and with a somewhat sarcastic tone asked me, "Well, how was your first day of work?"....
.. .."It was great," I replied. "My life's ambition finally came true. I was able to do the job I've always wanted to do."....
.. ..Somewhat surprised, Dad asked, "What did you do?"....
...."I got to collect garbage!"....
.. ..He looked at me with a questioning look as both Mom and I laughed. It seemed liked she remembered that morning some 14 years earlier when I made my second life-ambition choice of that morning. Dad looked at both of us, puzzled, but not questioning of what was so funny. The topic was dropped. It wasn't until later on that evening as we settled in, me lying on the floor watching television, my sisters upstairs in their room, Mom in the kitchen, and Dad in his easy chair reading the paper, that he finally figured it out. He probably thought about it all evening before he looked at me with a smile and asked, "Well, did you at least get to ride on the back of the truck?"....
.. ..I smiled back and answered, "Yeah!"....
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It wasn't until a few years later when my ultimate career choice was achieved. After receiving my letter from the City of Elyria regarding my results from the Civil Service Exam and after being interviewed by the Chief and Safety-Service Director and then being offered the job did I make the announcement to the family. I'm still not totally sure if my Dad knew that I even took the entrance exam as a firefighter candidate.....
.. .."I'm taking a new job… one that I always wanted to do when I grew up."....
.. .."Now what are you going to do?" my Father asked.....
.. .."I'm going to be a firefighter for the City of ....Elyria....." ....
.. ..He looked at me and asked, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"....
.. .."Yes," I answered with the same dedication and determination in my voice as I've heard him speak. "I've wanted to do this my entire life. I want to be just like you."....
.. ..The only thing he said, as he raised the newspaper back in front of his face was "OK," but just as his face disappeared behind the newsprint I'm sure I saw him smile… a smile of pride… a smile of hope… a smile of his approval.....
.. ..
I worked with my Dad on several occasions during the next five years leading to his retirement. I worked under his command on his shift a couple of times. He was a tough, but fair company officer. I worked a number of multiple alarm fires with him, one time in particular on the same hoseline, advancing toward the seat of a major fire in a downtown commercial structure on ....Broad Street...., …me on the nozzle, Dad backing me up on the line. ....
.. .."Keep down!" he ordered as we crawled our way toward the back of the building. "Hit the ceiling. Hit the ceiling," he shouted as the fire rolled overhead in the dense smoke. I turned the nozzle toward the ceiling, water forcing the fire back. We held our ground as other firefighters also worked at various angles and locations. During the time we fought the fire together, I felt his presence with me through the smoke, the heat, and the terror. It was like his hand of encouragement was on my shoulder, urging me on. I feel his hand on my shoulder even today, in many things I do, encouraging me on.....
Dad and I also worked on several fire investigations together. These were the times I cherished then, and now. ....
.. ..
I never stopped learning from my Dad, even years after his retirement. I loved to hear the stories of the "old days"… of the times around the fire station with the guys, the horsing around, the camaraderie, and the unspoken love they had for each other as Brothers. The fires, the rescues, the training drills, and even the "bitch" sessions they had… I held on to every word he spoke. Likewise, he listened to my stories, of my experiences, how the times had changed since his earlier days, and yet how things still remained the same over the years. ....
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Just days before his death, we talked at length about our fire service careers. He told some of his stories… those that I've heard time and time again, but never grew tired of hearing. He told them with the same enthusiasm and with the same level of excitement in his voice as he did the first time that I heard it. And that sparkle was still there in his eyes as he spoke. During that particular evening in room 602 at ....Elyria.. ..Memorial.. ..Hospital...., as he spoke, he paused in mid-sentence and sat up in bed and looked out the window as Engine Co. 2 sped past with lights flashing and siren blaring toward the downtown area. I saw a little grin on his face as he watched until the truck was out of sight, then he settled back in his bed and continued talking just where he left off.....
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"Once a Firefighter, always a Firefighter." Those were words told to me by my Father some 29 years ago at the start of my career with Elyria Fire Department. Though retired for nearly 20 years, he still kept his ear to the scanner, keeping track of all the goings-on of the Department. He was with the guys on every call they responded. He surprised me at knowing what was going on at some of the calls even during the late night/early morning hours. He loved to hear the stories of current day calls and likewise to reminisce of those in his past career.....
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"Once a Firefighter, always a Firefighter." Dad always spoke of being there in heart whenever he heard me responding on a call. Now, he is not only there in heart, but he's now also there in spirit. ....
....When times are tough, I know that Dad will be there to see me through. When the engines race across the city, lights flashing and sirens blaring, I know that Dad will be there. On those quiet nights, when I'm lost in my own thoughts, I know that Dad will be there. Just like before, when we enjoyed our times of sharing stories, I know that Dad will be there to hear me still tell mine, and during those pauses in thought, I'll still hear him tell me those of his own. ....
I miss Dad deeply. There will forever be a void that will never be filled in my life, but he'll still be here… in the true spirit that made him such a wonderful man… community servant… firefighter and fire officer… husband… grandfather… father… and for me, a loving, trusting friend who gave so much of himself to others… especially to me. ....
I love you, Dad. Happy Father's Day!....
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