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...

Firehouse Famine - Part 1

Feasting at the firehouse has meant so many different things throughout my career in the fire service.  In the next few installments of “Hittin’ the Hot Spot”, I will recall some of my favorite stories about fighting firehouse famine.  Before you get too excited, these stories are not going to provide you with any new recipes, rather the manner in which the food was acquired and devoured.  I am sure there are more unique stories about food in the firehouse than there are firehouses, and I encourage you all to comment about some of your favorite memories about the people and procedures that helped feed the folks in your station.  

My first stories come from 7507 Baltimore Blvd. in College Park, Maryland.  PGFD Station 12 was my home away from home for 2 ½ years while I attended the University of Maryland.  It was a unique situation for several reasons.  First and foremost, it was a fire station.  There was a career staff on duty during the day from Monday – Friday, but the house was staffed by volunteers the rest of the time.  However, within those vollies were 12 people who actually lived at the fire station in what was called the “Sackroom”.  

Although the Sackroom itself was our little oasis away from all the normal activity of the station, we all shared one kitchen on the main floor.  Every live-in had a portion of a shelf in one of the three refrigerators, and one overhead cabinet.  Although we trusted each other, you wrote your name on everything if you actually wanted to have it there when you were ready to eat it.  Fortunately, there were alliances and partnerships that permitted sharing, but only if you had something of equal value to share.  I remember mass quantities of fish sticks, spaghetti & meatballs, mac & cheese, and P. B. & J’s coming out of that kitchen; at least until grillin’ season.  I never knew how many things could be grilled.  I also realized that I wasn’t the only wacker who enjoyed pretending a good grease fire on the grill was like a mini structure fire.  Nothing wrong with multi-tasking food prep with fire attach practical exercises, right?  I only recall one instance where gear and SCBA was actually deployed, but the squirt bottle got a good workout.

The town had the usual college town temptations as well.  I was particularly fond of Hungry Herman’s steak, egg and cheese hoagie, the Bagel Place’s breakfast sandwiches, and of course, the Domino’s Pizza joint, which was within eyesight of the apparatus ramp if you felt like peering through binoculars and watching your pizza get made.  There was one delivery guy who drove a convertible Jeep who worked every minute that store was open, 7 days a week.  He knew every corner of the campus and town, and never walked.  He even ran the stairs, elevators took too long.  I remember him telling me that he made $90,000 a year, and based on his hustle, I believe him.  I briefly considered a career path adjustment. 

Probably my greatest memory of all was the evening meals during work shifts.  During the summer and over holiday breaks in the college calendar, the fire department would hire three or four vollies to staff the station after the career staff went off duty.  Since most of the active members were college students, the house would get might lonely when everyone went home for the holidays.  It was a pretty good deal, and the selection was usually a competition.  Hang at the fire station AND get paid?  Sign me up!

The shift started at 3:00 p.m., and we had three important tasks to complete at the start of each shift: equipment checks, spot cleaning tasks, and meal planning, but not always in that order.  We would decide on the menu and post it on the chalkboard in the dayroom with a sign-up deadline time.  By 3:30, we could expect phone calls from members trying to decide what they wanted to do for dinner.  If our menu sounded good, they signed up.   

With the afternoon tasks completed, the duty crew would check the sign-up list, and do an impromptu first-due target hazard familiarization of a local grocery store.  Since we were running hot, we always tried to keep the store visit as brief as possible.  Dividing the shopping list (usually by tearing it into portions) made the trip go very quickly.  Back at the station, the preparations and calculations began.  Barring any interruptions by the communication center, our timing was usually spot-on, and we collected cash (usually between 4 and 7 dollars, depending on the menu).

I remember occasionally having leftovers, but not very often.  Either we were good planners or great eaters.  Clean-up was always as smooth as the preparation.  Everyone who ate helped clean up… it was the unwritten rule.  With great teamwork, we could have everything cleaned up and put away in less than 10 minutes.  Only then could we do dessert! 

Lead, Follow, AND Get Out of the Way!

We have all heard the phrase, “Lead, follow, or get out of the way”.  It has many kin, such as the more crude, “Shit or get off the pot”, or the touchy-feely “Don’t walk ahead of me; I may not follow… yada, yada, yada”.  But as a fire service leader, one must realize that this is not an all or nothing proposition.  In fact, a good leader will lead, follow, AND get out of the way.  A great leader will know exactly when to do which.

Certainly, a leader must lead!  That is the very purpose of leadership.  But leading comes in many forms and styles.  One of the more common and reasonably successful ways of leadership involves leading by example.  The “do as I say not as I do” method only last for a brief period before the subordinates catch on to the inequality of the situation.  A leader must demonstrate the desired characteristics of his troops.  “Do as I do” is the most primitive method of leadership, and one of the easiest to enact.  People look to leadership and often mimic the actions and behaviors of that leader.  It is not necessary for that leader to say “do this” or “act this way”.  Setting the example with consistency is the most effective method to teach a particular behavior.  These passive “decisions” must also be complimented with active decisions.  It is the roll of a leader to make clear, committed directives that are based on knowledge and experience.  Whether choosing a fire ground tactic to initiate, or creating a policy to enact, a quality leader must decide on a plan and direct its completion, making adjustments and modifications based on feedback and re-analysis along the way. 

Following is another characteristic that a leader needs to employ.  The most obvious aspect that needs to be followed is the leaders’ supervisor.  Yes, folks, no matter how high up the ladder you climb; there is always someone on a higher rung.  Whether that is a superior officer, a municipal manager, or some other “higher authority”, we all follow somebody.   Less apparent, is the need for a leader to follow his troops.  This does not imply that a leader needs to stay on his subordinates heels, watching their every move (although I know a few leaders who do this).  This means a leader should keep track of the personnel in their unit.  By following their activity and project progress, a good leader will be able to keep the group on the right track and on the proper pace.  Timely support of their activities will enable the leader to maintain accountability while maintaining a respected supervisory role. 

Somewhere between leading and following is where the real action is.  It is the meat and potatoes of the operation; where the “real” work gets done.   It is where the well trained crew knows their job well, and often better than the supervisor.  It is the place where seasoned crew members call upon years of experience and repetition of a task.  It is where the finely tuned tricks of the trade are employed by the veterans, while the fresh new technology of the recently-schooled probies is tested.   It is where teamwork is tested, under battle conditions.  It is not the time to teach or explain, or describe.  Nor is it the time to critique, analyze, or discourage.  This is the time and place for the leader to get out of the way!  It is not always easy to assign a task and let it go, but trust in the crew at this moment in time is paramount.  If a leader has done his job well, getting out of the way will be easy.  When properly prepared, equipped, trained, and  protected, a leader’s crew will safely and successfully accomplish any reasonable task it is assigned with a high degree of confidence and competence. 

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!

You Gotta Be "All In"

There seems to be some people that believe the notion that you can be a “part-time” firefighter.  I am not talking about the volunteer who has two-jobs and a family, and needs to budget his time wisely.  I like that guy.  You know that when he is there, he is there with a purpose.  I am also not referring to the volley that belongs to multiple fire departments and flips his alliance based on where the glory is and where the work is.  I have an entire post about clowns like that.  I am talking about the guy that thinks he can serve as a firefighter part of the time, but “turn it off” when he finds it convenient.  Have I confused you?  Please allow me to explain.

Becoming a firefighter is a commitment.  Whether you are career, or volunteer, when you join the brotherhood of firefighters, you have made a life choice.  On duty or off duty you are always a firefighter.  There is an expectation of behavior that is laid upon every new department member that includes a degree of decorum that extends well beyond the boundaries of the fire station.  Once you are known as a “firefighter”, everything you do will be a reflection on firefighters everywhere.  If you sport a blue whacker light, three scanner antennas and a dozen fireman stickers on your car and you drive like an ass, guess what everyone’s perception of firefighters is.  Act like a slobbering jack-wagon at a bar room in your FD t-shirt, and what would you suppose everyone in the place will think of the fire service?  And my new recent favorite is the knuckleheads who use the internet and their 1^st Amendment to spew garbage from their pie hole without any consideration to the embarrassment they are causing to the rest of the “brotherhood”.  They insult brothers (or their brother’s mother), threaten retaliation through violence, or flex their cyber-muscles against the very authority they are too cowardly to confront face-to-face. 

The way I see it, you ALWAYS carry “the banner”.  Often I have heard the excuse, “But I am a volunteer, you can’t make me…(fill in your favorite complaint here)”  Really??  Your volunteer act occurred when you walked into the fire station and joined.  From that point forward, you have enlisted yourself to behave in a manner that fits a rigid expectation of the department you joined. When you get in your car and drive away from the station, the department leadership still considers you to be an ambassador of their organization. But do you respect that honor?

Do you wave at passing vehicles with firefighter plates, or do you check to see what department it is from first, then decide if you are going to salute that brother?  Do you hold doors for strangers while you are sporting your fire company job shirt, because that old lady just might be your Lieutenant’s grandma.  Do you Tweet with dignity and respect, knowing the world is reading, and judging?

This “being a firefighter” is a full-time responsibility.  Thinking it is anything less is simply “irresponsible” 

The Trust Sandwich

In the fire service, no personal quality is quite as important as trust. It is built up from many different ingredients.  As individuals, we all have different taste and much like sandwiches, everyone’s is different.

On the surface, you can easily think of trust as the relationship between you and your partners.  That alone is one of the most important layers of the “trust sandwich” that we need to eat every day.  Trusting that they will have your back if you get in a “jam” helps us develop the level of courage to accomplish the extraordinary tasks we do as firefighters.  We trust the pump operator to get the water to us when we need it.  We trust that the vent team will open up properly to keep the cool air at our tail so we can make an aggressive push to the seat of the fire.  We trust the team mate holding the hydraulic spreader to trigger the device in the correct direction when our extremities are nearby.  We also must trust they won’t do the wrong thing, like opening up a fog pattern in a compartment we occupy, move the ladder we were counting on as our escape route, or light a flare in a gas cloud. 

Another area of trust that is important is the trust we have in our physical capabilities.  Are we as “fresh” as we should be?  Do we fully trust our cardio-vascular system to perform flawlessly under the stress of battle?  Do we have faith that our muscular-skeletal system will endure the brutal challenge of the firefight?  Do we count on our emotional and cognitive levels to remain in balance so we do not put ourselves in jeopardy? 

We also place great trust on our equipment.  We trust our equipment to keep us alive, and failure is not an acceptable option.  A great deal of time is spent assuring that our equipment is “combat ready”, which means it is functioning perfectly, has been maintained and serviced regularly, and we are intimately familiar with the operation of the equipment.  Whether it is a Halligan bar, an SCBA, or a million dollar ladder truck, we trust, or shall I say EXPECT that equipment to function exactly as expected. Much like the meat, if any slice is spoiled, the entire sandwich is ruined

How about our leadership structure?  It is clearly the bread and butter of our process to trust our leaders.  Do we fully trust the judgment of the people who lead us on the fireground?  Better yet, if you are a leader, do your personnel trust you to make the right calls?  I am willing to bet that this is an area of concern in many volunteer, career, AND combination departments.  Stagnant leaders go stale quickly.  Too often we allow personalities to interfere with our perception of capability.  “If I don’t like you, I don’t trust you!”  This is a sad, but true likelihood.  It is human nature.  Many knowledgeable and experienced leaders lose their leadership capability because of the way they treat, and interact with, people.    Some may also be thinking, “If I don’t trust you, I don’t like you”, and it is hard to argue with that logic.  Trust builds relationships… always did, always will.

The most important “cheese” in this trust sandwich comes from the trusting smile of our customers.  The public, our residents and business owners, open their homes and businesses to us at a time of crisis.  They trust us to save lives and property, to protect their belongings, and their history, and their way of life.  Their expectation of trust should never be taken for granted…ever!  Once we lose the trust of the people we serve, we lose our purpose. 

We need to TRUST: each other, ourselves, our equipment, our leaders, and our customers support.  And from now on, I will try to avoid posting to my blog when I am hungry … Trust me!