I Am Not Sure Where This Is Headed...

Deeply rooted in the volunteer fire service, I evolved from a system with ample manpower.  If you were slow getting to the fire station, you didn’t have a place to ride.  We filled cabs, tailboards, and even rode the hose bed to fire calls.  I know what you are thinking; I cringed when I typed that as well.  What can I say; we have come a long way in regards to firefighter safety in 32 years!

I could write volumes about how technology has changed the fire service, and I imagine in time, I will.  But lately, I have been thinking about the issues of manpower.  The most irreplaceable commodity of the fire service is staffing, and the willingness and ability of qualified personnel to overcome fear and risk self-preservation in order to accomplish extraordinarily heroic acts to save life, property and community. 

How that staffing is amassed differs from community to community, sparking ongoing debates about certification requirements, qualification standards, and career vs. volunteer debates.  Originally staffed by the entire able-bodied population, armies of volunteers managed to get wet stuff on the wet stuff, and preserve their communities.  Over time, the evolution of the fire service staff has taken many different twists and turns.  Firefighting has become more technical, standards of training have been developed to offset liability concerns, and the demographic of the American family has drastically changed.  While some communities manage to maintain their fire protection with an all-volunteer staff, many municipalities have adopted a combination-department, where volunteers are supplemented with career staff.  Still others have turned into an era where the staffing is primarily career, and supplemented by volunteers.  Finally, there are areas (mostly metropolitan regions) that are staffed by career firefighters, and volunteers do not exist. 

The city of Reading, Pennsylvania, for example, is home to one of the oldest functioning volunteer fire companies in the country; although their presence on the fire ground is barely noticed.  This city of 88,000, people, situated on 6400 acres, is protected by an on-duty staff of just 18 firefighters; a dangerous situation for the overworked staff, their force limited by budget restrictions by the cash-strapped city.   Injury rates have increased by 80%, likely caused by the stress of working overtime to fill staffing minimums, and being forced to accomplish the work of several personnel because of the staffing shortage.  Volunteer support within the department, while technically present, is realistically non-existent.

Conversely, Dover, The capital of the state of Delaware, which encompasses an area 4 times the size of Reading, but less than half the population, is still protected by an all-volunteer department, the Robbins Hose Company.  A recent two-vehicle accident in town brought well over 20 firefighters to the scene, less than 25% of the “available” volunteers on their roster.  Dover, however, is still growing.  One must wonder how long the tradition of being 100% volunteer can be maintained.  All it takes is one bad leader, one poor governmental decision, one tragic event, and the atmosphere could change overnight. 

To the unaware bystander, there is no difference to the service rendered by the heroes who arrive on the BRT’s (Big Red Trucks) in each of these towns.  The expectation of a professional solution to the emergency at hand by the experts on the scene dressed in the turnout gear does not change from town to town, or state to state.   However, to the “seasoned” veteran, who has been involved in and studied the evolution of the fire service, the differences are enormous.  I am not choosing sides, or pitching one system over another.  I have tremendous admiration for BOTH groups for what they accomplish given the resources they are offered.  In Dover, it is clear to me that some of the municipal dollars saved by avoiding the need for payroll associated with a career staff has been spent on equipment.  The age, amount, customization, and technological level of the apparatus and portable equipment gives the volunteers the best tools to work with to do their job, all while maintaining the sense of appreciation from the community leaders that likely inspires them to continue to commit their time to their community.  Meanwhile, in Reading, the thinning, aging fleet is “urbanized” and the equipment is fiscally selected and well used, but the staff is well-trained, job-tested, and hardcore. 

So here we are, in 2012, with the ongoing debates and senseless arguments.  Volunteers scoff at career firefighters, thinking they “only do it for the money”.  Their self-righteousness clouds the fact that the career firefighters are being asked to do twice the workload with a fraction of the resources.  Meanwhile career firefighters critique the “whackers” for inadequate experience, lack of training, and over-chromed “parade pieces”.  The battles are senseless and immature.  Both sides have very valid points, but you are comparing apples to oranges.  It is a debate that I avoid, mainly because I could make a good case for either side.  In combination departments, these skirmishes often exist in the same room, among “friends”… brothers who may be side by side in a few moments facing the most challenging predicament of their lives … TOGETHER!   It is not a very comfortable place for the weak-minded, and the toll such childishness takes wears out even the most committed public servant over time.  I digress; I will save that sizzling story for a later time.  No sense burning a bridge I am still standing near.  

As the title of this post said, I am not sure where I was going with my thoughts today.  So I will wrap this post up with a few general, but time tested axioms.  While the evolution of the fire service continues, these few principles remain:

·         Every firefighter should strive to be the best prepared that he/she can

·         Professionalism is an attitude not an economic standard

·         In the, end, we are all trying to accomplish the same thing

·         None of us are better than everyone at everything

·         If they wear a helmet,  one day your life may depend on them

·         If YOU wear a helmet, one day THEIR life may, depend on YOU.

Am I on Candid Camera?

I was only on the job for about two weeks.  As the Fire Safety Technician for the University, I was responsible for the engineering, education, and enforcement of all things related to fire safety on the campus.  As I read my morning e-mails, I was alerted that the fire department had been to our campus the night before for a small fire that was discovered by a security guard making his rounds in the human resources building.  This un-occupied single-story 4000 s.f. building had a small lunchroom where a haze of smoke was discovered at about 2 o’clock in the morning.  Responders determined that combustibles stacked on and around a small toaster oven were showing effects of pyrolysis due to the toaster oven being turned on.  They unplugged the unit, and left the area otherwise untouched, as to allow for a proper investigation of the incident.  I was excited to be “on the case” and ready to wield my investigative skills and determine exactly what happened and who was responsible for the event.

I immediately became suspicious of the setting and began to photograph the area and documented the history of the occupants in the building over the past 24 hours.  I was convinced that someone wanted to burn down the building and make it look like an accident.  Other clues of potential foul play included two ceiling tiles that had been dislodged, broken, and tossed to the floor, an artificial ficus tree that was knocked over, and a few papers uncharacteristically strewn about the floor.  Otherwise, nothing had been disturbed or was found missing.  There were no signs of forced entry, so I suspected an inside job.  Was it the guard looking for the status of “hero” for saving the day?  Was it a disgruntled employee? 

I first needed to eliminate any and all accidental causes.  Was the switch on the oven defective?  No, it seemed to be working fine.  Did someone accidently leave the unit turned on? No, employees in the building assured that no one has used the oven for month (explaining why it was hazardously buried in paper products and condiment packaging).   Every (or so I thought) possible accidental cause I could imagine was eliminated from probability, so I began to formulate my arson hypothesis. 

Later that afternoon, I was consulting with the campus police about how deeply we would investigate this incident when I heard a call for maintenance to report to the Human Resources building for assistance.  Workers there were hearing strange noises above the ceiling and wanted it checked out.  As expected, the noise went away whenever the mechanics were in the building.  However, after several return calls throughout the day, and HVAC technician discovered a squirrel in a utility closet.  The circus-like activity that ensued was hysterical.  Fans of the movie “Christmas Vacation” should be able to visualize the chaos that followed the rodent discovery.  Finally, after 35 minutes of all-out warfare, the squirrel was evicted, and order was restored.

That is when the light bulb turned on!  The squirrel did it!  It all made sense!  The “perp” entered the building through a small hole in the roof flashing, and eventually dislodged the ceiling tiles to gain access to the rest of the building.  Using the ficus tree as an escalator, the nut-muncher accessed his new playground and began to forage.  The counter in the lunch room was filled with packaged yum-yums that proved to be too good to pass up, and the squirrel started rooting through the area looking for a treat.  At some point, while trying to reach a higher shelf, the little bugger must have stepped on the button that turned the oven on, starting the warming process and setting into motion one of my most memorable fire investigations. 

I began tapping away on my keyboard, documenting my findings in the most professional manner I could muster.  After all, this was my first incident investigation, and I wanted to make a good impression.  About half way through my report, however, I got an empty feeling in my gut.  Was I being set up?  Was this all an elaborate hoax to haze the new guy?  I prepared myself mentally for the “Bazinga”, and finished my report with every ounce of cautious professionalism I could muster. 

To this day, I still wonder…

Roll with the Flow

I will be the first one to admit, I live in the fast lane.  No, not THAT fast lane, I am getting too old for that.  I am referring to the fast lane of the highway.  Occasionally I will slide in to the right lane and go with the flow with the normal folks, but I am usually looking forward to reaching my destination, and the sooner the better.  I like speed, and I like the challenge of beating my Garmin’s estimated time of arrival.  I agree with the late George Carlin, who noted that “anyone that is going slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac”.  While the fuzz on the side of the road with the radar gun may disagree, I believe I set a safe but efficient pace for the fast lane. 

Of course, this only applies when there is room to run.  Once highway traffic is congested to the point where speedy travel becomes impossible, I submit to the situation and “go with the flow”.  This is usually the case during certain parts of my daily commute.  Anyone who has ever had the “pleasure” of traveling 222 between Reading and Allentown understands my plight.  Ten miles of outdated, single lane, overcrowded asphalt, choked by heavy trucks, thousands of commuters, Amish kids on bikes, and way too many cross streets is exacerbated by a few agonizing traffic lights, strategically placed to eliminate any possibility of smooth sailing on all but the luckiest of days.  In this situation, the choices are to “go with the masses”, or challenge yourself with the winding back roads that bypass the masses!  Those “shortcuts” don’t make the commute any shorter or quicker, but it sure seems like it does. 

The real analysis of humanity occurs on extremely congested super-highways.  Those that travel rush hour (an oxymoron if I ever heard one) in a major metropolitan area understand this plight.  I recently made a trip On Philadelphia’s “Blue Route” during the afternoon commuter hour.  I was making my way to the Philadelphia International Airport at 5:30 on a weekday when both the Phillies (always a sellout crowd) and the Sixers (poised to eliminate the Bulls from the playoffs) were playing across the street from each other in South Philly.  I was merely a speck in the river of cars that were crawling along the winding 4-lane strip of striped concrete toward Interstate 95. 

In these scenarios, there is no sense trying to “make good time”.  You simply must tune in a good radio station, pick a lane, and “go with the flow”.  When the speed limit is 65 and you are going 15, it is time to concede to the voice of your navigation device… there will be no checkered flag at the end of this excursion.  What you CAN do, however, is pick out the asshats that still believe they can beat the system.  They dart from lane to lane, trying to make up a car length or two by jumping into the lane that seems to be moving faster than the others.  Since their like-minded friends do the same thing, it is usually a few minutes until that lane becomes the idle lane and you see them again, trying to cut back into your lane, which is now steadily flowing by.  It reminds me of the “Tortoise and the Hare” fable.  I was playing the role of tortoise and stayed in my lane of choice, but in this case, the “hares” include the snotty, Armani suit-wearin’ Mercedes pilot, the punk in the multi-colored subcompact with the mosquito mufflers, the young clueless girl on the cell phone in the beat-up duct-taped sedan, or the blue collar contractor with the ladder rack and the squeaky brakes. 

I narrate the movements of these four targeted strategists, since texting while driving is no longer legal in Pennsylvania.  The entertainment keeps my mind off the clock, and is really quite comical.  They dart left, they dart right, and they occupy any gap they think will give them the positional advantage.  They piss people off by cutting in on a smoothly flowing line of traffic.  Brake lights flash like a disco on No-Doze.  The masses lurch forward, the masses stop, the masses repeat…   We are thousands of individuals with a common goal.  I am certain that if we would all work together, we could all enjoy more consistent movement and efficient travel.

I suppose this is where today’s lesson lies.  There are times when we all need to stay with the pack, and understand that “Together Everyone Accomplishes More” (TEAM).  Teamwork produces success.  Long distance runners know this, bikers in the Tour de France know this, herds of animals in the wild know this, and schools of fish know this.   Even NASCAR drivers, who are trying to be the individual that “gets to the finish line first”, know that if they don’t work with the other drivers, including their foes, they will lose!  Within a team, there will members who may be stronger, faster, smarter, or better than the others in some way.  Those individuals also have some shortcomings that can be compensated for by other teammates with different strengths.  That is the concept of a winning team: sticking together, remaining unselfish, supporting teammates who are struggling, using your strength to boost others forward, and staying focused on the group goal.  Even strangers on a highway can function as a team.

After 35 minutes of automotive crawl, the congestion seemed to magically dissipate, with no obvious reason for the sluggishness.  I was free to accelerate for the final 2 miles of my commute.  Not just me, though.  Me,  the “suit” in the Benz, the exhaust buzzing Technicolor Toyota, the chatterbox in the rattlebox, and Marlboro Man look-alike.  I shot past them, grinning at their futile attempt to break from the pack and selfishly navigate past my team of commuters. 

Woops, there is my exit already!  I Gotta go catch a plane!  Ciao.

RLS Syndrome

If I were to ask a layperson what they thought the greatest risk a firefighter faces, I am sure some of the answers would be: Being burned, falling off a ladder, caught in an explosion, lost in smoke, or even trapped by a building collapse.  Health conscience people would turn to the risks associated with cardio-vascular health and the stresses placed on the firefighter’s body as the major concern.  I imagine very few would even mention “responding to a call” as a dangerous activity.  The facts are clear that transportation accidents are one of the leading causes of death and serious injury among emergency responders, and it is the activity that takes place on every incident.  Today’s blog will address some of the reasons this activity presents such a risk.

The average citizen sees a fire engine roaring through traffic and dreams of the invincibility of carving, unobstructed, through rush hour, bypassing lines of stopped cars that pull aside to allow you to pass and disregarding pesky crimson signs and lights that require others to come to a stop.  Before I proceed, I need to dispel some misconceptions about man’s laws of the road and nature’s laws of physics. 

Fire engines are NOT permitted to disregard safety rules of the road while responding.  They may proceed past a stop signal ONLY when it has been deemed to do so safety.  They are required to maintain a safe speed which includes decreasing speed during adverse weather conditions.  Most importantly, they are often held responsible for mishaps that occur if they fail to respect these regulations.  From the scientific side of the analysis, a fire engine does not have “magic tires” that grip the road better than any other truck on the road, “super-braking powers” that allow them to stop quicker than other vehicles on the road of similar size, nor an “invisible force field” that protects them from the other vehicles on the road.  In fact, many fire department vehicles push the envelope of their designed weight rating because of the water and equipment they carry.  They are simply very bright, very loud versions of every other vehicle on the road. 

There are several other variables, however, that make these vehicles even more dangerous than others:

·         The skills and experience of the driver may not be very sharp.  Particularly in a volunteer department, where the driver of this 40,000 pound monster might be much more accustomed to driving his 3500 pound Honda Accord.

·         The driver may be focused on the details of the incident they are responding to and the urgency to arrive quickly due to on-scene reports of rapidly spreading fire, or victims in peril.

·         The unpredictability of what the other drivers on the road will do in their pathway.  For every 20 drivers that do the right thing, there will be one who makes a contradictory evasive maneuver.

·         Believe it or not, despite the flashing lights and the blaring siren, some drivers are oblivious to the approaching emergency vehicle due to loud stereos, well insulated vehicles, or driver distraction.

I have personally logged thousands of miles in the driver’s seat of an emergency vehicle during my career, and admittedly, my attitude toward maneuvering through traffic en route to an emergency has evolved over time.  I have had a few close calls, but fortunately have never unintentionally bent and metal because of my driving.  The one time I did, was with the permission of a county police officer, but I digress.  I have witnessed people do some crazy things in front of my fire truck, from driving over a curb to get out of my way, to slamming on the brakes and covering their eyes right in the middle of an intersection.  I always attempted to maintain what I call “smooth control” of my vehicle, whether I was driving a medic unit with a class 1 trauma patient in the back, a fire engine through suburbia, or a ladder truck through rush-hour “inside the beltway” traffic.  AWARENESS and CONTROL are the key words to safe response. 

Another portion of my career was spent in the “thinking chair”, more commonly referred to as the Officers Seat.  In this position, you share the responsibility of safe operation of the vehicle through your awareness, but unfortunately have zero control over the operation of the rig.  Believe me, there were more than a few times I stomped on the imaginary brake pedal on the right side of the fire engine cab.  That is the seat where your only control is the ability to coach the driver through a safe response by maintaining a calm atmosphere, and a focused attention on the road conditions.  This is an impossible task if the operator of the rig is experiencing an attack of RLS syndrome.

RLS, or “Red Lights & Siren” syndrome can occur with any emergency driver from time to time.  I admit there were times when I believed that my siren and air horns had the power to move cars out of my path, and I know there were times where I was thinking about everything except the road when I was en route to an incident.  Every driver is susceptible to RLS, and some suffer from it repeatedly.  It is a period of perceived invincibility, where poor judgment reigns supreme, and tunnel vision closes in tight.  It is dangerous, and it can be deadly.

Until scientists develop a vaccine, RLS syndrome must be controlled through diligent screening of potential operators, repetitive training and practice of driving skills, established standard department guidelines regarding vehicle operation, and respectful rapport development between drivers and officers alike.  

I Will Always Remember…

It is one of those moments that I will always remember… 

People always talk about these moments because they capture our hearts with such shock and sadness that they burn an indelible snapshot of time into our souls.  The end of World War II, the Kennedy assassination, the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion, the attack on the World Trade Center and Pentagon are a few examples that many people will always remember.  They can tell you where they were, and how they felt, with chilling accuracy, when they heard the news.  We share these moments because they affected all of us, and we can all relate to the emotions expressed by others.  They united us because of their global impact.

Then there are very personal and private moments we each hold quietly in our memories; the death of a family member or pet, the moment of birth of our children, a marriage proposal, getting our driver’s license.  These moments bond us together in a different way.  We each experienced these moments at some point in our lives, but in our own personal space, in our own personal time.  They are similar stories with similar emotions, but vastly different details, locations, and characters.

Then there are the events in between global and private.  The concentric circles of impact reaching levels of notice globally, levels of sadness regionally, and levels of grief and devastation at the personal level.  I am referencing the tragic assassination of Kyle D. Pagerly.  Kyle was gunned down by a cowardly fugitive whose blatant disregard for human life took from our world, an amazing young man.

It is one of those moments that I will always remember… 

I took the phone call from my department chief that evening with no expectation of the news that would buckle my knees and temporarily drain my face of its blood supply.  This was followed by a wave of changing emotions that overlapped so frequently I lost track of my senses.  I was in denial.  I was in shock.  I was angry.  I was sick to my stomach.  That news derailed my understanding of mankind, and I suspect I will be forever changed by Kyle’s sudden passing. 

Though I was 20 years his senior, I watched Kyle live like few others ever dared.  I admired his energy, his up-beat, can-do attitude.  I watched him grow as a determined fire lieutenant, a loving young husband, a proud patriot, a dedicated public servant, and a friend.  He would have been an amazing father to Savannah Kylie, his daughter that he will never get to hold in his arms.  It doesn’t seem fair that a man with so much love of life was taken from us at such a young age.  The loss of Kyle will sadly be one of those moments we all will remember, but most importantly, his LIFE will be something that will be remembered as well.  Despite his age, and even without his knowledge, Kyle taught me many things about life.  I never had the opportunity to tell him, and I will always regret that.  Perhaps I didn’t realize just how much he taught us all until after he left.  Now, almost 10 months after his tragic death, I still hear his voice, picture his smile, and mourn the fact that he is gone.

I was proud to be on the fringes of his life.  I can only imagine the sadness felt by those even closer to him.  His loving wife, Alecia, is an amazing woman.  I am awed by the strength she shows as she fights through the tears of life without Kyle, always standing proud at the events honoring Kyle’s life. 

Thank you Kyle, for all you have given to your family, friends, associates, co-workers, and comrades. 

Loved my many, forgotten by none!

Please honor Kyle, by rewarding his K-9 partner, Jynx with the honor he earned as well.  Jynx’s actions saved many lives that warm summer evening.  Vote every day at THIS LINK .  Thanks.

Son of a…

Even a casual glance across the rosters of the volunteer fire service reveals a pattern of family involvement.  Family values and traditions play a large role toward an inherited desire to volunteer in the local fire department.  It is not uncommon to see at least one father/son or brother/brother tandem on any fire department roster.  In fact, I recently examined my region (60+ fire suppression agencies) and discovered a family tandem in over 75% of those departments.  Many had more than one pair of relatives actively serving.  The longevity and commitment to the fire service created by this type of family-based value shows in the number of these relationships that included one or more leaders of their respective organizations.  My family, for example, includes a grandfather, father, mother, sister, cousin and daughter who either serve, or served the organization in some capacity, most rising to a successful position of leadership.

 

On my sixteenth birthday, I got a fire helmet from my parents.  While that may seem a bit presumptuous, it was one of my most memorable gifts I ever received.  I had already spent several years watching and learning.  You see, my father was the fire chief; it was fairly certain that I would follow in his footsteps. 

Those of you who have followed your parents into an “occupation” understand that often means more hurdles than advantages.  The volunteer fire service is no different.  The expectations are set much higher, and you can’t simple “stay home” if you didn’t feel like participating, without lots of explaining and guilt.  Please understand that these represent the “good” part of having family in the business; built in motivation, insights into the behind-the-scenes issues, etc.  It makes me appreciate the “generic”, non-family connected volunteer even more!  Choosing to serve the fire department takes a lot of guts and commitment…and sacrifice!

The challenges that are even more difficult are the ones that come from outside the family, and outside the scope of evaluation of a traditional member.  It is the expectation and assumption of the masses that an offspring of a leader has greater opportunity for advancement and acknowledgement, yet nothing could be farther from the truth.  While I will admit that having a family heritage in the fire service certainly made me aware of the opportunities available to me, the path to success was certainly as difficult, and even MORE difficult because of the perceptions of nepotism that needed to be overcome. 

I knew from the beginning of my career in the fire service, that I would have to work harder, study more, attain more certifications, practice more intently, be more uniquely creative, and set my own personal bar higher than most simply to overcome the assumption that I got something I didn’t earn.  Hearing the phrase “…because you’re the chief’s kid” was something that made me so angry I could spit!  That phrase was my motivation to rise above the presumption through endless hard work and personal accomplishment. 

My father didn’t make it easy either.  His fire service career is adorned with many great accomplishments that have made the Hostetter name well known in the emergency services network.  I marvel at the number of people who I meet who give me that awestruck look as they ask, “Are you related to Glen?”, as if I am some sort of heir to a throne.  It is a bittersweet feeling of being directly associated with such a great community leader, while never being able to step clear from the shadow he casts. 

THAT, however, remains my goal.  In the words of Napoleon Hill, “The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It's the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun.  In an effort to be that mighty oak, I have become so resistant to accepting help from the trees around me.  I have steered away from the support and protection of one of the mightiest oaks I know in an effort to be strong, resilient, and self-sufficient.  I have done so with such resolve that I have carried that independent characteristic into professional relationships beyond those between my father and me.  Sadly, this independent drive is sometimes misinterpreted as isolation, unwillingness to work within a team, or “standoffishness”.  Wow, spell check didn’t underline that word; I am glad someone understands me!

While it may seem noble and honorable to desire acknowledgement and reward based solely on individual measurable achievement, I have, once again, discovered that the world doesn’t always work that way.  There is more than just black and white, there are many shades of gray that come from blending the measurable with the immeasurable.  I can only hope that before my career ends, I learn to dip my fingers in the paint and smear myself a new opportunity that mixes my personal accomplishments with all those career boosting, wheel greasing traits that I have trained myself to avoid for the past 32 years.  I just hope after all these years, my paint hasn’t dried up!

Finders Keepers

Two very important words in the vocabulary of fire service leaders today are recruitment and retention.  I don’t care if you are a career, volunteer, or combination station, finding quality people, and subsequently keeping them is one of the greatest challenges we face.  In fact, the old grade school axiom “Finders keepers, losers weepers” is the basis for today’s blog post.

To begin, I researched the word “recruit” and was reminded that it is both a noun, and a verb.  We need to recruit recruits!  How catchy!  There are other interesting words that come up with that definition: enlist, draft, enroll, strengthen, supply, recover, replenish, renew, restore.  I never considered the “re-“ to be a prefix, since as a prefix it means “to do again”.  Then I thought, “Of course, we are always re-casting the net for new members”, or, I suppose, “CRUITS”.  But what bait do we use to catch these “cruits”? 

If they were fish, we would study what they eat, where they eat, and when they eat.  Then we would tempt them with their favorite snack attached to a barbed hook, and snag them through the lip and reel them in.  I suggested this at our last staff meeting, and we collectively decided this would not have any positive long term effects on our membership ranks.  Not literally, anyway.  I wanted to focus on young men and women and the volunteer fire service, so I set out to study these little guppies to see what “lures” them to join.  Like puppets, they said all the correct canned answers: help my community, be a good citizen, yada, yada, yada.  I immediately called “bullshit”!  Young people join the fire department because they are the leftovers, the outcasts, and the visionless who have not been able to carve another social niche for themselves.  They know the fire service, in general, is starving for warm bodies and willing souls.  Let’s face it, we pretty much believe we can mold any of these bewildered humanoids into mean lean firefighting machines, so we sign them up, and take them in.  We attract them with bright shiny trucks full of really cool tools, promise to dress them up in an awesome set of protective equipment, and take them “beyond the yellow tape” where mere mortals seldom trod, and let them break stuff in the name of public service. 

THEN, they discover they actually need to learn stuff… lots of stuff… hard stuff.  Science and physics and math and reading and all the other things they loathed in school are all part of the business.  Then there is the discipline!  In school, they were herded around in groups of people very similar to themselves, and the teachers and school officials made and enforced rules made popular by guards at a reformatory.  Discovering that the fire service is a very diverse group of ages, races, educational levels, shapes and sizes, and is run by several sets of rules (emergency rules, and non-emergency rules) is enough to scare away the weak-hearted.  This is why retention begins immediately after recruitment.

Retention: to continue, keep, hold, and preserve the ranks.  After learning that “re-“ in recruitment meant to do again, I tried that same rule with the word retention and immediately realized how messed up the English language really is.  Why can’t we just use “Obtain and Retain” or better yet, “Finders Keepers”.  Retention of the ranks is an ongoing tactic that we sadly do not put enough effort into.  I could staff 2 or 3 good-sized stations with the quality people I know who have left the fire service for one reason or another. Sadly, I am sure that my actions or even my mere presence may have contributed to one or more of those departures, but I digress.  The best way to retain an individual is to continue to satisfy that individual’s appetite for what bait got him hooked in the first place.  That’s right, every individual needs a bit of specifically designed, personalized “atta boys” or “atta girls” to maintain their desire to continue service with the department.  On a larger scale, a clear and precise departmental vision must be developed, defined, and communicated.  Clear organizational goals must be shared with every member so they can each feel like an important part of the whole puzzle.   It is leadership’s responsibility to outline the specific points of that plan and steer the group’s actions toward the accomplishment of that pre-planned greatness.  THAT is what will help retain membership.

So, to review:

FINDERS:  Look everywhere, discount no-one, open your doors, sell your organization.

KEEPERS: Once you begin to invest in them, protect your investment so interest is compounded.

LOSERS: Passing up a potential piece of the puzzle is a mistake.  Don’t let the big one get away.

WEEPERS: Those who failed to focus on recruitment and retention as a vital resource. 

Your turn… GO FISH!

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. 

A Near Cat-Astrophe

My department was faced with a rather challenging dilemma a few years ago.  This one involved Ferb, half of the domesticated feline duo of Phineas and Ferb belonging to the Smiths (Name changed to protect the innocent).   Ferb was missing for two days until he was discovered “up a tree” in front of a house a block away from home.  It was obvious that Ferb was not able to climb down on his own, and was frightened and unable to access food or drink.  The Smiths called 911, and the Communications Center dispatched for an Officer in Charge to contact them directly.  Our engine (I was in the “thinking seat”) was just clearing a call, so we decided to head over to see if there was anything we could do. 

I spoke with Mrs. Smith, discussed the many options, and explained the low odds of successful fire department intervention (I never met a cat in a tree that liked firefighters).  Memories of a cat tumbling from the grasp of a firefighter on the tip of a ladder truck reminded me that these calls can quickly become circus-like.  That day, I counted backwards, "9, 8, 7, 6, 5, ..." as this feline bounced and tumbled through the tree limbs.  I suspect he has 2 lives left when he hit the ground, feet down by the way, and darted away, never to be seen again.  Unfortunately, I did not have my stopwatch handy or I could have calculated the distance he fell using the formula:  d = (1/2) 9.8 (m/s²) t² .  See kids, that junk you learn in physics class can be helpful later in life.  

There was significant public attention to the crisis, so the crew opted to attempt a simple lure and grab rescue, using a can of cat food as “bait”.  As we suspected, Ferb was more scared than hungry, and darted for higher ground as soon as we began to ascend the ladder.  We place the can of food on a large branch, so Ferb could eat and keep his strength up, and left…humbled and disappointed that we could not “save the day”.  And if you are wondering... Yes, it was very difficult to tell the neighbors that we have never seen a cat skeleton in a tree.  

The next day, before noon, another neighbor, Mr. Brown, called the Communications Center requesting assistance.  He was also “kind enough” to notify the newspaper and local TV station., in attempt to “draw attention to this situation and get some results!"  (Thanks, Mr. "Helper")  I reported to the tree and spoke again to the pet owners.  No other agency was willing to respond to assist, so I developed a plan and advised them that I would stop back later in the afternoon if Ferb still had not come down on his own. 

Shortly after 3:00, I returned and found Ferb still in the tree, a news cameraman, worried children, a rickety wooden ladder that someone had attempted to scale the tree with, and a general community feeling of frustration and dissatisfaction with the lack of assistance available to them.  I knew it was time to take action once again.  I gathered a crew for the engine from the fire station and headed out to put the new plan in effect.  Using a ground ladder once again, the crew fastened a Have-A-Heart trap to one of the major horizontal branches in the tree.  The thought was that the cat could make it to the trap, and could be captured, at which time we would return and lower the cat safely to the ground without the chance for injury to our personnel, helpful do-gooders, and Ferb.  Within 20 minutes, the trap was set and baited, and I provided my phone number to the owners, instructing them to call me when Ferb was in the cage. 

At 0700 the next morning, I was awoken by my phone.  Mr. Smith said Mr Brown called him to report the cat was in the trap exactly as planned.  I dressed quickly and reported to the scene with a boastful swagger to view my success.  Upon arrival, however, the cage was not sprung, and there was no cat in the cage.  Helper Brown swears he looked out his bedroom window and saw the cat in the trap!  Sadly, he was mistaken.  However, what NONE of us saw, was Ferb in the tree!  He was gone!  Thoughts of worry began to swirl again… was he injured and suffering in a new hiding place, was he dinner for a predator, or was he just up on a limb where we could not see him? 

Finally, at noon on day 4 of the fiasco, Ferb showed up at home, thin and dehydrated, but otherwise uninjured.  The fire department involvement was rewarded only by the local appreciation for the EFFORT.

This event brought about several discussions between members, fellow officers, career staff, colleagues of mine from out of the area, and I am sure MANY conversations I was not present for or invited to participate in!  While I fully support the notion of “risk little to save little”  I viewed the suffering of a beloved pet of one of our citizens more than just a “little thing” .  I view it as the type of service that our community rightfully expects from its municipal departments.  It is more than just a “cat” we saved that weekend, but  the public opinion of the entire department. We have vowed to save lives, not just human lives.  It is one of the fundamental reasons for our existence.  

I know my decisions from that weekend were being questioned by many in the aftermath.  While we may not have SAVED a cat, we did save our IMAGE, gained community respect and admiration, and may have just convinced a young lad or two to become volunteer firemen when they get older.  Would I do it again?  Absolutely!  Would YOU?

The Super Bowl

Ah, yes, Super Bowl Sunday.  This is the day that signifies the end of the NFL season.  What can I say?  As a life long Dolphins fan, the Super Bowl hasn’t excited me in two decades.  The salt in the wounds is watching the Brady bunch playing again!  Don’t get me wrong, I watch every play, every year.  I enjoy the bigness of the game, the commercials, the halftime performance, and subsequent internet bashing of the performance.  After all, this is supposed to be the two best teams in the league playing.  But is it really?  I am sure there are some fans in Green Bay (1 loss in regular season), or Philadelphia (beat the Giants twice this year) that would dispute that fact. 

The truth is that the Giants and the Patriots are just the two most fortunate teams.  That is usually the case.  Injuries, luck, weather, match-ups, coaching calls, and inches make the difference in many games throughout the season and the playoffs.  This game was no exception.  The Giants running back, unable to stop short of the end zone so they could run out the clock and kick a game-winning field goal, gave the Pats a chance to win it in the last minute (something we have seen Brady do more than once).  As the final second ticked off the clock, the ball bounced inches out of the grasp of one of the best tight ends in the game.  That’s right… I said “second” and I said “inches”.  All those practices, scrimmages, weekly games, playoffs come down to a few seconds and a few inches.  It really makes you wonder who the best team in the league really is. My hat goes off to the Giants!  Just showing that a 9 win team can win the super bowl gives my Phins hope! 

This is nothing new in sports, particularly in football.  Any fan of college football will tell you the “National Championship” is ALWAYS disputed, and the NCAA basketball tournament will crown the most fortunate team at the end of March Madness, but arguable not always the best team.  Once you make the post season, anything can happen.  The trophy usually goes to the hottest team, and/or the luckiest team when the games count the most.  Just ask the Packers!

So the next time you are riding the rig to an incident, think of the super bowl.  Is your team “hot” or are you in a slump?  Do you have some key “injuries” to members on your roster, keeping them from playing in the game?  Is the weather or the venue for your next event going to create a problem for your execution of your game plan?  Do you have the proper personnel to match up with the “opponent”, knowing clearly that this call will never be the same as your last one?  Will your “coaches” make the correct calls in a timely fashion to give you the best chance to win?  We know firefighting is a strategic battle against time, and we have no time-outs left. 

The biggest advantage we have is the access to the opponents’ playbook.  Now all we have to do is convince all of our players to study it.  Fire will always sneak in a trick-play, but understanding the basic game plan it normally uses will help us win our own “super bowl”.  Read the periodicals, watch the video accounts of incidents, study your area, and always keep your head in the game.  Be a champion on every call, and save the goofy victory dances for those who are surprised when they do well. 

Now, when do pitchers and catchers report???