The Aftermath - Part 1. What I miss

After  32 years in the volunteer fire service, it was time to step away, or "hang up the hat" as the saying goes. It had taken its toll physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Life events paved the way for a departure I never imagined I would experience.  Now after several years have passed, it is much easier for me to honestly analyze my "career", and the roll it played in my life.   As the title of this post indicates, I have decided to focus first on the things I miss most about being a volunteer firefighter.

BEING PART OF THE SOLUTION
There is no greater thrill than knowing that you possess the skill, knowledge, and equipment to bring a positive outcome to a dire situation.   As I review newspaper clippings, photographs, and supplemental reports, I realize that I played a role is helping, and in some cases, SAVING many lives.  First responders are often thrust into peoples lives at the worst moments they will ever experience.  Whether serving the roll of "hydrant man" assuring a quick water supply,  advancing on a fire as the "pipe man", opening a roof as the "vent man", or directing operations as part of an incident management team, I always felt that the job I did at a fire scene was an important part of the overall success of the mission.  I know that there are people who are alive today, and buildings that are still standing because I had the opportunity to be part of a team of dedicated public servants who possessed the willingness, skills, and guts to put the mission first.

EDUCATION AND TRAINING

 I am guessing that the average ratio of preparation-to-execution is about 300:1.  Between classroom education, skills development, and repetitive practice, the average firefighter spends about 300 hours getting ready for every one hour of actual "doing it".  While we easily remember the calls we have been on, we often overlook the thousands of hours we spent preparing ourselves and our equipment so we could be our best, regardless of what challenges the specific emergency presented.  It wasn't all fun and games ... sometimes is was tedious, grueling, and overwhelming.  Yet somehow, the spirit of  the participants kept it enjoyable.  Individual achievements helped mark the progress of one, while team exercises developed the necessary cooperation required for a department to be effective. It was the teamwork that truly cemented the notion that we were ready to respond to anything.

THE SPECIAL STUFF
Firefighting is enough to keep any group nearly overwhelmed with preparation.  But as we know, the fire service responds to way more than just fires.  It was these special operations that the department performed that I saw as a greater challenge. Most departments provided a special service that they could share mutually with neighboring agencies. I was fortunate enough to be involved in just about every aspect of "special services".  From the Terrapin Trucking Company, FART Van (ask if you must) & Foam Unit in College Park, hazardous materials and technical rescue at Carpenter Technology, and vehicle rescue at West Lawn, and TSVFD, I always enjoyed providing the special services.  Splash in there the extra work with RIT (rapid intervention team) development, firefighter rehab, collapse rescue, and some kick-ass fire prevention programs, I feel like I had a taste of it all during my career.    

THOSE I HELPED GROOM
Probably the greatest feeling is molding a young mind of an aspiring new recruit.  Helping them absorb the knowledge you share is the best way to keep the fire service progressive.  As an instructor, explaining the what, where, why, and how to young minds was always rewarding; watching them hone those newly learned skills during practice sessions was even better.  By far, the greatest feeling is watching them apply what they learned from me when it mattered most... out in the field where someone's live depended on their competence.  As a chief officer, I like to believe that many of my lessons went far beyond fire service academia.  After all, I was not leading machines, I was leading PEOPLE.  My efforts were to help shape the PERSON, not just the firefighter.  So much of what we do is about humanitarianism, integrity, trust, and maturity.  My belief was: "Make great men and women FIRST, so the emergency responder part was easier"
Some had short stays in the fire service.  Fire service life isn't for everyone.  I like to think while they were with us, they appreciated the knowledge I helped them discover.  Others have continued in the emergency services, both volunteer and career.  Several of those have even risen to positions of leadership, where I hope that the things I taught them have positively affected the way they lead, and treat the people under their command. 


THE FRIENDS I MADE ALONG THE WAY
Far beyond the accomplishments and professional relationships I developed during my career, are the friends I have met along the way.  Brothers and sisters who truly were (and some still are) like "brothers and sisters from other mothers and misters".  Many I have stood beside with pride, respect, and love during graduations, weddings, funerals, births, and promotion ceremonies; or sat quietly with during times when life was dealing a blow through family crises, illnesses, job transition, or periods of personal doubt.  As I reflect back on my life, I realize that nearly every person in my life is there because of our shared interest in the emergency services.  If you can trust someone with your life, and they can trust their life in your hands, it makes forming a personal bond almost automatic.
By building these relationships, I never needed to go too far to find someone skilled in a trade to help with a home project.  Plumbers, electricians, roofers, movers, carpenters, mechanics... the fire service is a virtual smorgasbord of great people willing to help.  All you need to do is reciprocate when they reach out for help with the skills you can bring to the table.

Sharing emergency services experiences is a great environment to cultivate friendships, and I am eternally grateful to everyone I befriended during my career. Those who remain close, even after my departure from the fire service, will be cherished friends forever.

I have been recruited to re-enter the emergency services in my new community.  In fact, that is what prompted this reflection of the things I miss.  "So what are you waiting for?" you may ask.  Well, you may need to wait for my next installment of Hittin' the Hot Spot to hear the other side of the decision...

Rest easy, brother, we'll take it from here.

I just had the painful experience of having to say goodbye to yet another great man.  Just days before his diagnosis, he was telling me about strange leg pains he had been having.  Ignorantly, I laughed at the fact that he was finally starting to feel “old”.  I reminded him of his need for reading glasses at an ICS class we attended together (a crutch that I soon discovered I would rely on within the year, as well).  After over 30 years of fire service, time was beginning to take its toll on both of us.  Of course, you wouldn’t know it to look at him.  He stood there in his city uniform, having just got off a long shift at work, followed by a municipal meeting, and now he stood in one of the stations where he was a volunteer chief officer overseeing modification to the rescue truck that were in progress.  The gray hair was starting to win the battle on his head, and his indulgence in firehouse culinary treats was tipping his belt buckle ever so slightly, but he was still running full speed, just as he did his entire life, fearless and unstoppable. 

He asked me to bring some equipment from my station to try some different mounting configurations for equipment they had recently ordered.  I remember feeling honored that my opinions were both sought and respected.  That was our relationship; professional respect, personal connection, and typical ass-busting that comes with the territory.  Over the years, our relationship took many twists and turns.  We “tuxed-up” for each other at the altar, he helped me land my first “uniformed” job, and I helped him test his Vascar.  We fought bad guys together, we fought fires together, and we dug people out of cars together more times than I can remember.  We talked strategy, we talked firehouse politics, we dreamed, and we laughed.  We also disagreed…a lot; usually about strategies, firehouse politics, and even our personal dreams.  Watching him in action, I could never decide if I should admire the way he risked his life, or chastise him for nearly getting himself killed. I remember one nasty double fatal where he lambasted me for pulling his crew out, keeping them from getting killed.  There was no one left to save that morning, but he hated that we gave up trying.  The risk was not worth the reward.  We were never angrier at each other, even though we both knew the other was right.

This news, however, was chilling; a malignant brain tumor!  He had bounced back from so many line-of-duty injuries in his career, we all believed he could do it one more time.  And he believed it as well.  We often hear talk of people “bravely battling cancer”, but he was the poster child for the stubborn fight.  We watched as he boldly stated that he would beat this “thing” as he called it.  He then took action, doing everything the doctors asked, and then some.  If anyone could beat this beast, he could. 

The fight raged on, lasting so much longer that any doctor thought it would.  Those extra months with him, while difficult to comprehend, were certainly cherished by his family, friends and comrades.  Even as treatments seemed to be losing ground, somehow he still believed.  I personally don’t know when he finally realized that this was a battle he could not win, we never discussed that when I visited.  Perhaps he never gave up hope.  Nevertheless, he was a realist, a planner, so it was no surprise that he was more concerned about everyone else than himself.  That is one of the characteristics that made him so great. When people pass away, they say “He is in a better place”.  Whatever your beliefs are, you have to believe that the place where he is now just got better when he arrived.  

As the sadness of his death passes, the celebration of his life will go on.  I have many fond memories that I will cherish, and many lesson that I have learned from knowing him.  I will certainly recall and share the multitude of great stories where he is one of the main characters. His passion for duty and crazy sense of adventure was unmatched.  His greatness as a public servant, devoted father, loving husband, emergency responder, leader, and great friend will inspire me for the rest of my life.  For now, I join so many others as we struggle through tearful eyes to focus on our lives without him.   

Rest easy, brother, we will take it from here.

RONALD E. “MOOSE” WENTZEL, JR.  

11-13-62  -  1-12-14

Those Three Little Words

During my first few months at the College Park fire station in the autumn of 1985, I learned several unique lessons.  Oddly, the most important rule I learned was not one I expected, but have come to truly understand.  It was all about the THREE LITTLE WORDS they never wanted to hear come from your pie hole. 

At first, the use of these three words seemed harmless, and not being allowed to say them felt like a silly, but manageable phase of initiation.  What harm could come from saying them.  They weren’t argumentative, offensive, racist, or harmful words.  They were simple words that would be used to start a sentence, to define a source, to establish validity of a story.  These were words often spoken with pride, yet here, they were poison. 

It soon became apparent that resisting was going to be difficult.  I found myself wanting to use these words … a lot.  As I became more comfortable in my new surroundings, I began to become frustrated by this seemingly ridiculous rule.  I tried and tried, but often had to catch myself as these words escaped my lips.  My frustration led to anger.  How dare these people restrict my language by eliminating these three little words?  I could understand eliminating phrases like, “I don’t think…”, or “I don’t wanna…”, or “Why must I…”, or “I just can’t…”   These negative statements should ALWAYS be avoided by anyone striving to achieve greatness.   In an organization that relies on teamwork, they could be considered rebellious.  Even Jeff Spicoli’s famous line, “I don’t know”, wasn’t restricted.  Thank Goodness Mr. Hand wasn’t a line officer, huh? 

The three words that seemed to get everyone’s panties in a bunch were “Back Home We”.  Nobody cared what you did “back home” at your fire station.  You were here in Prince George’s County, serving as a member of the College Park Volunteer Fire Department.  The only thing that mattered is that you knew how things were done HERE! 

It didn’t take me long to learn why “back home we” was so toxic.  The College Park Station was staffed by students in fire protection curriculums.  We had ALL come from rather progressive departments, and each of us represented the best of the youth from our respective departments.  That’s 12 smart individuals from 12 different departments, most of which did things a little different from the others.  This wasn’t the West Lawn Fire Company, and despite my beliefs at the time, there was always another way to do things.  If the CPVFD allowed the “back home” influence from every one of the probies that walked through their doors, their identity, traditions, reputation and sense of solidarity would be eroded. 

In time, as I progressed through the ranks and I had proven myself to the officers and members of the department, my opinion began to matter.  Once I had firmly implanted myself into the ways of the CPVFD, the knowledge I brought from the WLFC became relevant.  I am proud to say that some ideas that were born in little ‘ol West Lawn Borough were incorporated into programs in the City of College Park.  Eventually I was permitted to say “Back home, we…”, but not before I learned why I couldn’t as the new guy in the house. 

I learned to understand patience, and tolerance for others opinions.  I realized that I was the new guy in town, not the organization.  They had been hosin’ and truckin’ for decades before the mere consideration of my existence.  Despite how smart I thought I was, I thankfully learned that others may be smarter.  The humbling experience of being forced to forget the past and accept the present was a valuable lesson that now, makes all the sense in the world. 

This is a lesson that I have applied numerous times in my life.  As the new guy, I always take the time to get to know the people and the system that is in place, giving them every opportunity to show me what is already in place.  This open-mindedness has helped me learn quite a bit about organizational philosophies as well as individual capabilities.  I only wish others in my recent past would have learned the same lesson of respect that the CPVFD taught me.  THAT story, I will save for another time...

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.  Enjoy a safe and wonderful time with your family and friends as we celebrate of the "things" we have in life .

Staff Infection

For decades, the volunteer fire service has been struggling with staffing issues.  Decreasing numbers of volunteers have been the topic of fire service discussions across the country.  The reasons are plentiful: the economy, the changing domestic profile, other worthy causes biding for our time, the increasing risks, the elevated training requirements, etc…  

While these reasons have some degree of validity, there are plenty of solutions to help relieve them as valid excuses.  We are just too lazy to give the effort it would take to solve those problems.  The sad truth is that we have a manpower problem because we don’t know how to manage people!    Situations can be managed, things can be managed, time can be managed, money can be managed, and even groups of people can be managed.  But I am not talking about TEAM management here; I am referring to the management of a single person.  Also known as, “how to treat people”

Sadly, many of today’s fire service leaders do not have the skills to properly manage themselves, let alone another individual.  Most develop an image of exactly how their “soldiers” should be; make a plan that utilizes those soldiers, then cast off anyone that doesn’t fit their mold.  A baker who uses a cookie cutter will always gather the leftover dough, re-roll it, and make a few more cookies.  Sometimes the leftovers can be molded into some other culinary treat, but nothing ever goes to waste.  Not in the fire service, however.  One by one, we cast off perfectly good “dough”, and discard it without any thought of what that one extra “cookie” could mean to the organization one day.  Those with pet dogs know that once the scrap hits the floor, you simply aren’t getting it back. 

Today’s leaders lack the ability to nurture, develop, and utilize the variety of people that come in the door, willing to help.  They wastefully discard people like they are an endless commodity because it is much easier than “dealing with” the challenges that some people present.  Worse yet, these leaders are breeding an entire generation of like-minded thinkers.  These little bullies are pushing away great people… smart people… dedicated people… people whose only weakness is the unwillingness to tolerate the bullshit that gets flung around a fire station.  I’m not just talking about the narrow-minded veterans who only know one way to get things done.  I am also talking about the 2/20 guy whose duffle bag is still swinging on the hook. 

I would love to staff a fire department with all the individuals who left the fire service because of the way they were treated.  I think of all the years of training and experience that are being wasted because we simply don’t know how to treat people right.  I have had several long conversations with former members of the fire service, and the underlying theme is interesting.  They feel abandoned, under-appreciated, and unwelcome.  These men and women still have the desire to serve, the willingness to sacrifice, and the ability to be great assets to the organizations that left them behind.  Sadly, the leaders of those organizations have done little or nothing to reel them back in; they never investigated the problem, therefore they didn’t need to execute a solution.  They just kept spinning the revolving door, wondering why their staffing levels aren’t a robust as they want them to be. 

THESE past members are the people who should write the books on recruitment and retention.  Their wisdom and experience could go a long way toward solving the staffing crisis.  Here are a few of the topics they would likely suggest:

·         Be fair to everyone.  If you make a rule, make it for everybody.

·         Don’t make rules that hamper your effectiveness.

·         Communicate, communicate, and communicate.  Secrets demoralize troops!

·         Understand that individuals have lives outside the firehouse; support that notion.

·         Not everyone has to be the nozzleman, if you have a happy hydrant man, be happy to have him.

·         Politicians should not dictate fire service operations, despite how powerful they think they are.

·         What motivates some doesn’t work on all.  Be flexible, be creative.

·         A dangling carrot nets better results than a prodding pitchfork.

·         People like to be lead, so if you are a leader of the organization, LEAD already!

·         Take notice of the positives, and stop dwelling on the negatives.

·         Give everyone the opportunity to achieve the greatness they seek.

·         Everyone is an expert at something.  If you don’t think so, you are missing out!

·         Honor, respect, appreciate, and encourage.

Take notice that most of these suggestions are about how to treat people, not how many certificates you have.  Firefighters are people first, and if we keep forgetting that, all the wisdom in the world won’t help solve our staffing issues. 

Dissent Was Inevitable

When I began my blog a few months ago, I never expected that my thoughts, my opinions, and my beliefs would be shared by everybody.  But it was quite a surprise to find out that I offended someone the other day.  OK, I was not really surprised; these days, everything you do or say offends SOMEONE.  That is what makes this country so wonderful to live in; freedom to think, and belief, and feel. 

I began this blog to expose my thoughts, beliefs, and opinions to anyone who wishes to read them.  From the looks of the stats, there are many of you who enjoy reading my occasional rants, my funny tales, and my organizational lessons learned.  I think back to the days when Howard Stern was on free radio.  He had as many haters listening to his show as he did fans. I happened to be a fan.  He was rude, and he was crude, but he was brutally honest, and he was passionate, and he was entertaining.  What I liked best about him was his reaction to the critiques.  “If you don’t want to listen, turn the dial!”  There were days when I did.  Even as a fan, there were times when I wasn’t in the mood for his crap, or I didn’t like or agree with what he was talking about that day.  I exercised my right to change the channel to something else, and respected his right to continue broadcasting his show.  I did not denounce his broadcast team, the station who aired him, his sponsors, or the company he worked for.  I simply turned him off (Sometimes only for 10 minutes, because I wanted to see what he was going to say next).

Those of you, who are fans of my blog, thank you for your kind words of support.  I am proud to bring my stream of thoughts to you to help stimulate thoughts, and conversations that need to happen in the fire service.  We do many great things in the fire service, and we also make many mistakes.  If we don’t learn something from BOTH scenarios, than we are cheating ourselves. No one is immune from error, poor judgment, or miscommunication, and I am certainly no exception.  If you have read all of my posts, you know that I am my biggest critique.  I have second-guessed my decisions, doubted my commitment, short-changed my potential, and failed to maintain self-discipline on numerous occasions. I can also be moody, and I speak fluent sarcasm.  I write about those failures here, so you can learn from my experiences.  I also write about the failures and misjudgments of others on my pages as well, again, so we can ALL learn from these mistakes.  What I do not do, is intentionally attack, insult, or attempt to embarrass any individual or organization, despite an arsenal of ammunition I have amassed. My blog has been read all across the country and in several foreign lands as well.  It is meant to be global, not local.  It is much bigger than you or me. 

I have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for my comrades and the service to humanity they perform.  I love my department, and everyone in it. Sadly, however, not everyone in my department is as proud of me as I am of it, so hereafter, I will never speak or blog on behalf of the organization.  Of course, when I make it big in this world, I will remember the support (or lack of it) extended to me by my organization, and will reciprocate the credit appropriately.  Meanwhile, I will continue to post as an unassociated individual.  It saddens me to have to do this, particularly since I am so proud to be a part of my department, and hiding my alliance goes against everything I support in the fire service.  What is a blogger to do?  

Anyone who questions my loyalty really doesn’t know me.  To those people, please call me, text me, e-mail me, or God forbid approach me. I love to talk shop, especially with people who don’t share my viewpoint.  Hell, I may just learn something from you, and you may learn something about me.  Meanwhile, please continue to despise my blog posts; my feelings will not be hurt.  And remember, if the truth of my words are too much for you to handle, peace is just a click away.    

What’s in a Color?

Historically, fire engines have always been red.  There are many reasons why, but my favorite explanation involved fire engines “rushin” to the scene, and everyone knows Russians are red.  Sorry, but that joke made no sense to me for years, and once I finally “got it” I knew I would never forget it. 

Then safety was sited as the reason to create more visible colors for fire engines.  After all, red was almost black at night time.  Soon there were slime yellow fire engines bursting onto the scene, seemingly erasing tradition for the sake of visibility.  It was a sad day for the die hard historians, who were convinced that firefighting as they knew it was OVER.  On the heels of this bold change of tradition came artistic creativity, and soon there were fire engines in every color of the rainbow, two-tone paint jobs, psychedelic color patterns, full length murals, and blinding reflective striping packages. 

This new age of de-standardization assured that there would never be a uniform color of fire apparatus.  The odd colors became a symbol of pride and local unity.  Firefighters would bleed the color of their fire trucks, and the loyalty created by this passionate support of the “home town colors” was an enormous character builder much like one’s support for their alma mater.  You learned to fight for your colors, live your colors, and identify with your colors.  Your colors became a part of you. 

When I had the opportunity to help merge four fire companies into one municipal department, one of the challenges we faced is selecting a color to unify the department.  The legacy colors were red, green, yellow, and blue.  To be fair to everyone, these four colors were eliminated from consideration.  The new unification needed to be NEW, and not favor any subset of the membership, for fear of alienating the remaining 75% of the members.  After all, we needed to learn to fight for our “colors”, with the key term being OUR colors!   After hours of discussion, meetings, suggestions, votes, and considerations, the department chose white, trimmed in red, black, and gray striping.  This selection incorporated the township colors, the local school district colors, and satisfied an opportunity of economic responsibility.  Using grant funding, the economy of scale, and some clever scheduling, the fleet began to take shape, and soon our new color scheme was consistently applied to all existing apparatus, and matched by the 6 units acquired after the standardization. 

Then, with an act of tradition busting that hadn’t been experienced in decades, a single vote, allowed by a thoughtless abandonment of leadership, changed the identity standard that had cost the young department over $100,000 to achieve.  Even more importantly, the unity of the membership was fissured, and the results of this one night of questionable decision-making will be painfully obvious for decades.  The breech of standardization has been felt since the day the new apparatus arrived in the station.  You can just feel it!

Please understand, I think the new color scheme is beautiful, but it is NOT us!  Black over red looks sharp, but it is not white with red striping.  While the color of the fire truck has zero impact on the effective functionality of the unit, it does have an impact on the members riding in it, or at least HALF of the members riding on it. 

What color should we bleed now?  What banner do we “fight” for?  What team are we on?  What color will the NEXT truck be?  The truth is, the fire won’t care.  I wish I didn’t!

On Any Given Sunday

As I relaxed by my fireplace watching football games today, I started thinking about how much football and firefighting have in common.  In fact, I will describe one, and let you decide which one I am describing:

The most notable thing is the personal protective gear.  Before heading into “battle”, the team members don an ensemble of equipment to protect their bodies from damage.  Helmets, eye shields, gloves, padded clothing, and special footwear; all designed for efficiency and comfort.  This equipment is so important, that there are penalties that are assessed if you do not wear your gear properly.  Members of each team wear the same uniform, which shows unity and togetherness, but personal preferences may slightly alter an individuals equipment styles.  It doesn’t matter whether you are a well paid “starter”, or a part-timer working for next-to-nothing, you wear the same insignia as everyone else on the team and are expected to excel to your potential on every event.  Almost everyone wears their names on the backs of their apparel, and part of what they wear indicates the roll they serve during the period of activity. 

Every group has a specific “game plan” they like to follow, but when circumstances are dictated by the enemy, plans B and C sometime need to be put into action.  Sometimes it takes an aggressive offense to take control of the event, and there are times when a defensive posture will make you the winner of the day.  When all else fails, you can always “punt”.  Watching the clock is a must, time is very important.  If you don’t do enough things right in a timely fashion, you get beat.

Not everyone participates at the same time.  There are capable back-ups ready to step in when called upon, and there are specialists for almost every specific situation.  There is a hierarchy of leadership that makes split second personnel and strategic decisions based on the problem they are facing at that moment.  Some of these leaders do not engage directly with the “enemy”.  Only one is ultimately in charge, while the subordinates may direct operations in a specific task or sector.  From the captains on down is where the dirty work gets done, and the guys in the “trenches” seldom get the credit they deserve. Rosters are often changing.  Leaders who are ineffective get replaced, members retire, and some simply choose to take a different career path.  Free agency has caused “players” to change teams; loyalty isn’t what it used to be. 

Once underway, rehab areas become active with members cooling off in front of misting fans or warming their limbs in front of portable heaters when the weather is cold.  Hydration is important to keep everyone from cramping up, and the event doesn’t stop if someone gets hurt.  The injured are helped out of the action circle, and their role is replaced by another team member by medical specialists.

Groups that practice often, study the opponent carefully, and stick with the game plan go home happy.  Organizations that make mistakes, are improperly prepared, and do not give their best effort every time, often have lots of trouble in the locker room. 

Only one thing appears certain…If your fire department shows up with fans wearing cheese on their heads, you can pretty much expect perfection.

After Rights, What’s Left?

Two great things about being an American are the Bill of Rights, and the Internet.  One gives us the right to say or write anything we want, and the other gives us a platform for the entire world to view it.  That is a powerful tool, or a power weapon, depending on how it is used.  I am a big fan of both!  I love to babble, and love when someone is listening.  It is my long monologues at home alone that never give me any satisfaction. The truth is, I don’t think the fish understand English; they just stare at me, then turn their backs and swim away.    

I am tickled that technology has given me the opportunity to blog my thoughts and have some fire officer in England send me an e-mail saying, “Same here, Chap!”  It also reminds me that if I threaten someone, crack an ethnic joke, or insult someone in a foreign country, I am very likely to end up facing uncomfortable consequences, from someone close by or on the other side of the globe.  Sure I can SAY anything I want, but that is where the protection from the first amendment ends.  There is no language in any law that says that the object of my written poison must be loyally swallowed without opposition.  I could SAY that I am going to blow up a grade school, but I am smart enough to expect that federal agents will be following my every move before I even log off. 

These communication tools are like any ordinary tool.  Misuse will cause problems.  As I love to do, I will draw a rather grotesque analogy to explain my point.  I can own a table saw and I am permitted to sever my arm with that table saw if I really, really want to.  That is my right!  But obviously, the result of exercising my right to sever an appendage will create lasting results that I may not wish to endure.  Push-ups are hard enough with both arms, and since I do not have the financial backing of the Def Leppard drummer to trick out my kit the way he did, I would likely need to give up my monster set, and kiss the dream of drumming on stage for Van Halen good-bye!

So, what is the point to all of this?  If you speak, plan to stand by your words.  You OWN everything you say.  If what you say causes anger or hostility toward you, do not be surprised if someone gets angry or hostile toward you.  If what you say is illegal, expect to be arrested.  If what you say is libelous, expect to be named in a lawsuit.  If you saw off your arm with a table saw, expect a nickname like “Stumpy”.  Do you understand my point?

Rights do not shield us from harm.  In fact, in many cases, our rights give us just enough rope to hang ourselves.  Of course, hanging yourself is your right, too.  Just don’t expect your life insurance to pay your next of kin.  That is THEIR right!

The Look is lost.

Remember the good old days in the fire service?  Life was simple back then.  I'm not talking about riding the tailboard in hip books or leading off with booster lines and Hardie guns, I am talking about the way people used to respond to leadership.

One thing that was seldom an issue was the respect for authority.  The chain of command was "Queen Mary anchor" chain.  It was strong , solid, and unchallenged.  The Fire Chief, Assistant Chiefs, Captains and Lieutenants maintained a hierarchy of leadership that was well defined, and not to be questioned.  We followed orders from those above you in rank whether they wore your company number, or that of a mutual aid company.  Colonel Jessup said it best in "A Few Good Men", "We follow orders or people die!"

The Chief wasn't always right, but he was always the Chief!  His plan was the only plan that was followed, and his officers carried that message through to the troops.  We did not fear the man in charge, we feared DISOBEYING the man in charge.  Disobedience led to consequence.  That consequence may have been as simple as "the look".  You may have gotten one in the past that you recall.  That straight stare, crooked eyebrow, flared nostril look of disapproval that sank your heart into your gut.  You never wanted to be on the receiving end of that...or worse.  You especially didn't want to have your peers to see you get "the look". 

The shame of letting the team down was more than enough to keep us in line.  We all knew we were in the same boat as well.  NO ONE was immune from "the look".  If we screwed up and deserved to have one cast upon us from an officer, we hung our heads in shame, and accepted the (imaginary) scarlet letters that we would wear for awhile.  Unlike the novel, however, this "A" stood for ASS, instead of Adulterer.  You usually "wore it" until someone else deserved it more than you, relieving you of its heavy burden. 

Today, it seems like everything is questioned.  Not directly, mind you, but by social and organizational manipulation.  People can hide under their covers with a laptop and instantly rally up a posse of support against a directive without ever fearing "the look".  Authority is losing its, well, AUTHORITY!  There is a virtual arsenal of liberal movements that protect people from "the look".  Think about it... you can always find a support group, organization, union, club, "lawyer", parent, or block bully to tell you that you don't deserve "the look", you should not fear "the look", and if someone ever tries to give you "the look", whether you deserve it or not, will fight on your side. 

Please don't misinterpret what I am saying.  There are some leaders that barely deserve to be respected, particularly those that do not respect the people they lead.  There are also many people in the fire service that understand the value and importance of the chain of command.  Lets be honest, a blog about the obedient and deserving ones would be a yawner, and they wouldn't expect to be stroked constantly to keep them dedicated to the commitment they make to the fire service.  It's the toxic, disrespectful cowards that need to be stroked repeatedly ... with a rusty wire brush dipped in kerosene! 

When you leave the room...

In the "brotherhood" of the fire service, there sure seems to be a lot of backstabbing.  I like to think that most of is is cowardous, and not vindictive.  If you are not sure what I mean, you either don't spend enough time in the firestation, or you are not very tuned in to what is transpiring.  Try this experiment the next time you find yourself engaged in unstructured conversation at the station:

Take note of who the conversation is about.  Chances are is it about someone who is not in the room.  Whether it is poor personal hygiene, unhealthy habits, questionable romantic history, or training committment, people love to talk ABOUT other people.  Seldom, however, do they have the balls to talk TO the other people.  My guess is that they simple don't know how. 

Being honest with people...particularly those you aren't intimately close to, can be difficult.  We fear alienation, retribution, or retaliation.  So instead, we talk about them to others, because it is safe, right?  Others won't be offended, because it is not about THEM... In fact, they will likely agree or concur your beefs, because they too fear alienation, retribution, or retaliation.  What these flamethrowers don't realize is that the way they treat others is what gets talked about when THEY leave the room. 

Personally, I will take someone with bad breath over a backstabber.  I will partner with a know-it-all as long as he has my back.  I don't mind the guy that only comes around when it is convenient, as long as he has the integrity of the department on his mind when he does.  The guy that calls another member a "poison" after they leave the lounge is certainly no "antidote"; and many times is even more "toxic" than person he bashes. 

I truly want to believe that these backstabbers point out the shortfalls of other members because deep down inside, they wish for them to be freed of their shortfalls.  Sadly, they either do not have the know-how or the willingness to take the person aside and speak with them as a concerned peer.  I would like to think that someone would have the stones to come talk to me about the things that are said about me after I leave the room.  I am smart enough to know that I have issues... who doesn't. 

I know I am overweight and out of shape, I know I am unpleasantly moody and sarcastic at times, I know I often stop at the fire station when I am in need a shower, I know I have a chip on my shoulder about aspects of my life that didn't go as planned.  But you know what?  I know things about YOU too.  Would you prefer I talk with you about them and see if I can help you improve, or should I wait until you leave the room to discuss your issues with others while we laugh at you?