You're Holding WHAT?

It was about 2:30 in the morning when the three alert tones echoed through the fire station; "7600 Mowatt Lane, for a house on fire".  We scrambled a crew of six, all college students saving cash by living in a fire station on campus.  Oh, who am I kidding, we LOVED living in a fire station, and a slew of those stories will likely make their way onto this blog.  This one was a classic...

With the Powercall wailing, and the Mack's tranny banging through the gears, we made our way toward the outer edges of the campus.  The duty chief tapped into his vast knowledge of our first due and while en route, advised "If this is the abandoned house, advise all units that this house is in extremely poor condition".  Now, it was rumored that he had a crystal ball on his nightstand, but how in the world did he know that?  I must admit, he really had this one pegged.  This place was well off!  Not well off like the snobs that drive Italian sports cars in a snowstorm, well off, as in fire belching from every opening.  As we crested the hill in Little Asia (an area known for fire alarms caused by food on the wok), there it was; a ball of fire with a glowing header of smoke soaring straight up into the sky...  It sure was in poor condition, and it was getting poorer by the minute.

The Lieutenant grabbed for the mic, and I grabbed his arm to stop him.  We were both pretty jacked up with adrenaline, and I didn't want him to shriek unprofessionally on the radio like the clowns we always mocked mercilessly.  I looked over from the driver's seat and said, "Take a breath, let's see how cool YOU can be".  He knew exactly what I meant.  He slowly raised the mic to his mouth, "Communications, Engine 122, be advised, we are approaching the scene with heavy fire evident."  It was the deepest, calmest, most emotionless radio transmission I had ever heard.  I was immediately overcome with a wave of relaxed confidence, despite the inferno we were racing toward.  I began by mental checklist of needs: water supply, apparatus positioning, pump operation... these lads were gonna want water, and lots of it. 

The dual supply lines played off the hose bed as I wheeled the wagon back the narrow stone lane toward what looked to be the gates of Hell.  The pumper had gotten out of the station when they heard the magic words, "heavy fire".  Ahh, the joys of 12 action-hungry live-ins in a fire station!  They picked up my split lay and fed me from a near-by hydrant, then the Indians all came looking for another line to pull off my engine. 

In the midst of all the waterworks, Chief 'Crystal Ball' delivered the most cavalier size-up I have ever heard ... "We have a 2 1/2 story, abandoned wood frame dwelling, fully involved, I'm gonna hold Engine Company 12, return the rest of the assignment."  Did I hear him correctly?  We got this entire place to ourselves?  Outstanding!  I have never seen my roommates so happy, I have never seen so many lines pulled off of one engine, and I have never seen so much fire handled with a two-piece engine company.

As for our classes the next day ... well ... lets just say they were something none of us have ever seen either.