A Memorable Beginning

It doesn’t seem like it was that long ago, but it has been over 27 years since I started my second tour of duty as a fire department “probie”.  I was 21 years old, and was certain that I had all the answers.  Up to this point, I had been hanging around my hometown fire company for as long as I could remember, and knew every inch of the apparatus, had polished, painted, or sharpened every tool, knew every knot in the book, and was a sponge for training classes.  I had officially joined the fire service on my 16^th birthday, but already knew the names and locations of all the equipment as well as the current members.  After graduating with honors with my Associates Degree in Fire Technology from my regional community college, I was ready for the big time; I was accepted into the University of Maryland at College Park. 

As the opening semester approached, I was still uncertain where I would be living.  I didn’t want the normal housing arrangements of a transfer student; I wanted to live in a fire station.  As my parents would likely attest, I was pretty much living at my local firehouse already, so It shouldn’t be much of an adjustment.  Other than being responsible for my own laundry and running considerably more calls, how much different could it be?   

 The University placed me at the Hyattsville Station, a few miles south of the campus.  I visited the station, met Chief Moltrup, and a few of the members gave me the tour of the place.  As excited as I was to be in a “big city” station, I was a bit disappointed.  I knew several past alumni of the College Park Station, and my heart was set on living there.  I wanted to be part of the stories that are told by the great achievers in the fire service who rode proudly out of the 12 house.  Most importantly, I wanted to be on campus, and surrounded by students that shared my goals of fire service greatness. 

There was something special about the fire station at 7507 Baltimore Boulevard.  The building wasn’t going to win any beauty contests.  It had been “rode hard and put away wet”.  It lacked many modern amenities, but it had an alluring charm.  From the rub marks on the bay door trim from the apparatus squeaking through, to the personalized cubicles in the student “sackroom”, this old place was calling my name, and I was ready to jump aboard.  Sadly, all the spots for the upcoming semester were spoken for.  It didn’t stop me from visiting, several times that summer, each time telling my saga to another few members I had the opportunity to meet.  I memorized the phone numbers as well; and I am sure the chief was tired of hearing me beg for a spot.  Finally, another visit to the station put me in the company of Fred “Hacksaw” Welsh, the chief in charge of filling the Sackroom.  He informed me that one of the candidates that were to report for the fall semester had not been returning his calls to verify acceptance of his spot.  I am not sure whether he was tired of me pestering him, or if I managed some award-winning puppy-dog eyes and sad-sack pout, but Hacksaw (you know, I never found out exactly why he got that nickname) gave me the best news I had heard in months.  “I’ll tell you what, If I don’t hear from this guy by 6:00 p.m. tomorrow, the spot is yours.” 

The next 22 and-a-half hours seemed to crawl by, but as promised, I received the phone call at exactly 6:06 the next evening.  I was IN, and with only 22 days to go before the start of the semester.   It was the beginning of an amazing period of growth and discovery.  The 28 months I spent serving the College Park Volunteer Fire Department met or exceeded every expectation I had, and I have a truckload of friends, stories, memories, and life experiences that have become part of me. 

I am not sure what the best part of the experience was, there were so many.   Was it the college education I earned, the campus life experience, the diversity of people I interacted with, the tradition I was a part of, the friends I met, the life lessons I learned?  Perhaps it was all of it!  For such a brief period of my life, that window of time certainly stands out, and still does to this day.  I am sure I didn’t know it at the time, but it is all very clear to me know.                 

It makes me wonder who is in my life that is going through one of those life defining periods of their lives right now.  If I am a part of their memory 27 years from now, I sure hope the memory is a good one. 

Pen Pals ROCK!

During my fire service career, I have had many great experiences with fire prevention, and particularly with kids.  I have dressed as a clown for skits, talked with 2^nd graders on a “phone” as they practiced calling 911, and crawled on the floor under “smoke” with kindergarten classes.  The challenge is packaging the message to the appropriate level so the kids can understand what you are trying to teach them.  Otherwise, you just get the drooling lips and empty stares.  If they are too old, they know everything, and if they are too young, every question they ask starts with “One time…”

A couple of years ago, I discovered another avenue to connect with kids.  I became pen pals with a fourth grade class 1200 miles away!  Let me explain how this came to be… A college friend of mine, who I hadn't seen in 23 years, had become a language arts teacher in an Austin, Texas suburb.  She and I became re-connected on-line, and before long, the idea to pen pal with her students was developed.  As it turns out, 4^th grade is perfect for this kind of communication.  Their writing skills are just developing, and to find a “grown up” willing to write back and forth with them really lights them up.  Of course they are an easy crowd.  In one letter, I wrote “…pain in the butt”, and it was their favorite part of all my letters.  We write about all sorts of things; weather, pets, tests, sports, family, and even tell jokes and swap pictures.  I provide them with stories about what my fire department has been up to, and they ask questions… LOTS of questions!

In 2011, after sending 48 personalized Valentine’s Day treats, I decided to pay them a surprise visit.  They were completely stunned when I appeared in their doorway.  I felt like a rock star.  Their excitement and enthusiasm completely floored me.  I gave high fives, signed autographs and posed for some great photos.  Of course, fire safety was the basis of my visit, so we spent considerable time talking about fire prevention and fire department operations.  By the end of the school year, I felt like I knew these kids, and our final letters were bittersweet good-byes. 

I recently returned from visiting the 2012 edition of Mrs. McLaughlin’s fourth grade class.  Sixty-five of them this year, in three different waves!  Unfortunately, because the schedule rotation needed to be adjusted to accommodate my visit, and some of these kids have older siblings with big mouths, the jig was up, and my appearance was not a surprise to this year’s class.  It really didn’t matter, these kids still lit up when they saw me standing in their room.  We talked, we quizzed each other, we shared, and we learned.  The challenged me to think of a way firefighters use the things they are learning about in school.  Readin’, Rightin’, and Rithmetic were easy; but music, art, and social studies were a bit tougher.  I ended up spending the entire day with these kids, and enjoyed every minute of it.  How teachers do what they do every day simply amazes me.  I tip my helmet to every teacher for the exhausting work they do. 

This week, I will e-mail them about the snowstorm here in Pennsylvania, and they will brag about it being 75 degrees in Texas. I am trying to figure out how to get a snowball delivered to them, hmmmm?   Meanwhile, I am told I have a surprise coming in the mail for me this week.  Could it be related to me writing my birthday on their activity calendar while they were doing afternoon activity stations?  I hope so.  That would make my day, as would baked goods (hint hint)!

Thank you, kids, and Mrs. McLaughlin for your wonderful letters, pictures, and most importantly, your time. I look forward to more stories and letters as the school year moves forward.