For Whom the Bells Toll

When you run with a fire department that has a college in your first due area, you really need to develop a tolerance for the behavior of students in large groups.  Every now and then, however, that tolerance gets used up, and revenge becomes your only salvation.  This tale is an example of that reversal of fortune.

Every year, on every campus in the country, there is always one resident hall that seems to house the most rowdy, immature, irresponsible students.  Ellicott Hall is a nine story high-rise on the College Park campus of the University of Maryland, packed full of hormone-saturated co-eds that had developed quite a reputation that makes a student boast, and a parent cringe.  It wasn’t quite “animal house”, but more like “animal hotel”.  I am sure this generalization is unfairly associating all 1100 of the dorm dwellers with the handful of trouble-makers.  Guess what, I don’t care!  On this particular night, we felt no regrets for our actions. 

A few college clowns seemed to think hooking the pull-station to activate the fire alarm and evacuate the building was rather hysterical.  While we were generally used to this type of behavior, and accepted our “smells and bells” runs as part of the territory, it didn’t take too much to push us to the edge.  We even had company t-shirts that sported a Simplex “B” key and the slogan, “For Whom the Bells Toll”!  But THIS night would be different. This night, we took a stand!

It was a bone-chilling November evening, with temps in the mid-thirties, and a damp mist that had been falling for two days straight.  The week was particularly challenging, with an extraordinary number of runs that were cutting into the Sackroom sleepy time!  The first false alarm at midnight was annoying, the one at 1:30 a.m. was making us angry, but the third one, at 3:45 in the morning put us over the edge.  Even more agonizing was the fact that less than 30 people evacuated the building.  Apathy had developed dangerous behavior that needed to be corrected.  I had a plan, discussed it with my crew, and decided to execute one of the boldest moves of my career.    

I requested a full box assignment to assist the engine company, and had the campus police request assistance from the Prince George’s county police department.  As luck would have it, it was an unusually slow night for the popo and soon, we had more that 25 cops there to assist.  Our plan was a room by room search and “rescue”.  I can only imagine the thousands of dollars of contraband that went down the sewer as word spread that we were entering every room accompanied by the lawmen! 

After nearly an hour, the crowd of students standing in the cold had grown to capacity.  Most evacuated without incident, despite their anger and frustration, others were literally dragged by the police, bedding and all, down the halls and into the stair towers.  At least four asshats left in the back of a police car for disorderly conduct.  At this point, the shift commander from the police department lectured the shivering crowd for 15 more minutes, basically giving permission for vigilante activity.  Peer pressure was going to be needed to weed out the person or persons responsible for the abuse of the alarm system. 

We left the scene before the students re-entered the building, to avoid being bombarded by projectiles launched from the upper floors, and never returned to that building for the remainder of the academic year.  It worked, and thankfully, we never needed to pull that card out of our deck of tricks ever again.