
As this past summer came to a close, I reminisced about the several firehouse and department picnics and events I had attended—like many of you did over the past several months. Some of those picnics were at the beach along the ocean, some were in parks with pools or water rides, and one was in the yard of a combined fire & EMS station. There was the usual comradery—the jokes, stories, poking of fun at each other, families getting together, and, of course, all the kids running around, having fun, and just being kids. There were the occasional cries over scraped knees and hurt feelings, somebody not sharing or touching something that wasn’t theirs, and that was just the firefighters! What was also there among us was tremendous opportunity.
TELLING THEM WHAT YOU THINK
At two of the picnics in particular, I got to speak with the officers and firefighters from my years past in the fire service who made me who I am today. I took the opportunity to tell the ones who taught me so much, not only in terms of fires and emergency skills, but what it means to be a well-rounded firefighter and a successful adult. Some of them taught me how to be humble, how to handle myself on the fire ground, in the fire house, and even when I am off duty. I was able to give each of them specific examples of what they had shown me, taught me, mentored me, and in many cases, humbled me. Of course, most of them downplayed what they had done, but some of them were surprised and happy to hear that they had something to do with all my successes (and, some failures).
As an example, I had an engine company lieutenant who had a military background and worked in some of the busiest FDNY fire companies in the south Bronx during the “War Years.” Always a professional officer and an excellent firefighter, I reminded him of a fire that we had one Christmas Eve when he was the officer of Engine Company 16, and I was assigned as the “control” firefighter. It was a reported apartment fire on the fourth floor of a high-rise, fire-proof multiple dwelling, with a report of a woman trapped in the apartment.
We arrived to a working fire. As we were hooking up and stretching the attack line off the third-floor standpipe outlet, the forcible entry team of Ladder Company 7 was forcing the apartment door. After forcing the door, the inside tam made their way into the apartment to locate the fire which had already extended from a fully involved bedroom. As we made our way in with the charged hoseline, the ladder company members began their primary search for the occupant. As the line entered the apartment and started operating, the door firefighter reached to his right and found the unconscious occupant lying on the floor of a small kitchenette just inside the entrance door. She had made it to the buzzer to alert the building doorman of the fire before losing consciousness. When she passed out, she pulled the small gas stove on top of her as she slumped to the floor ending up in the V-shaped void between the stove, the floor, and the opposite wall.
The door firefighter yelled that he had the victim. As I made my way up the line from the standpipe outlet to assist, we dragged the woman to the staircase where I took out a pocket facemask from the inside pocket of my turnout coat. I gave her two or three breaths and she started coughing and breathing just as the deputy chief was coming up the stairs. That deputy chief was no other than the iconic Vincent Dunn. He stopped to say, “Great job guys,” as we began to prepare to remove the victim and pass her off to the companies on the lower floors for removal. Without any question, as an engine company, we had done a great job in locating, removing, and reviving the victim, as well as extinguishing the two rooms of fire in the apartment. Deputy chief Dunn recommended we put ourselves in for a department unit citation. However, the more experienced lieutenant said ‘no’ to that suggestion. His rational was that we did our job and that’s what we should have done. We were all disappointed and, in fact, angry at his reply. We thought we went above what an engine company routinely does and deserved recognition.
When we collectively went to the lieutenant to voice our dissent, he calmly stated that if we put in for a commendation, we would make it look like the inside team of the ladder company didn’t do their job or that they missed the victim. On the contrary, they made a left-handed search and found the seat of the fire for us to extinguish before starting their search. If they had done a right-handed search, they surely would have come across the victim first. They did nothing wrong at all. We in the engine just lucked out finding her. The removal down the long hallway and reviving her in the stairwell were what we thought was most outstanding. The lieutenant wouldn’t budge. In his experience, he had been in much tougher fires and rescue scenarios. He knew we did a good job but, it was what he expected us to do and what we were trained for.
It was a frustrating and humbling experience for us young firefighters, and the lieutenant and I talked about it at the picnic that sunny afternoon years later. He admitted that he may have been mistaken not to take the recognition. But, you know what? We all learned to put our jobs into perspective. We rose to that occasion just like we would do many other times under this lieutenant’s charge. We loved and respected him as an officer and to this day we each have a higher standard of what is expected from ourselves and our firefighters because of it, even though we still would have liked to received the unit citation.
Unfortunately, at those same events, we were missing those who had passed before us.—those we lost to sickness, injury, illness (mostly directly related to their firefighting careers), and in all too many cases, to line of duty death. We honored them by telling stories and how they may have influenced our lives. We told funny and, in some cases, embarrassing stories that probably had them rolling in their graves with laughter. As the old firehouse adage says, “If they’re making fun of you, it means they like you.” Right? I hope so!
WHO’S IN YOUR WALLET
If you close your eyes and think, it won’t be more than mere seconds to picture the chiefs, officers, and firefighters who had a positive influence on you as a firefighter. Likewise, you can just as quickly picture those who had negative influence or provided you with the ways to not do this job—by either actions or with words. However, even the negative learning experiences helped shape who you are today.
Take the time to think back on your firefighting career (paid or volunteer, it doesn’t matter) and picture those who helped you along the way. Perhaps even jot down some notes on just what, when, and perhaps where they influenced you and how it helped you at an incident, or as an officer. Then, the next time you see them, tell them. Share the stories and memories with them. Chances are they will be able to expand on what they were thinking or demonstrating at the time. And, even if they don’t remember the specific instances you’re talking about, they will surely be happy that they helped you in some sort of meaningful way.
DON’T FORGET THE OLD FOLKS
As a company officer at these firehouse/fire department functions, I make it a point to tell the young firefighters to seek out, sit with, and talk to the retirees in attendance. Their history, memories, antidotes, and stories will surely provide insight and education. You will learn things about your fire company, firehouse, department, local community, and members that I bet you never knew. Each individual you speak with will have different takes and memories of the same stories—even the ones you’ve heard a thousand times—which makes them even more interesting.
Remember to invite the retired members or those who may have moved away but still keep in touch. They will still have much to offer in the way of stories and historical value and entertainment. Make sure young firefighters take time to seek them out and spend time with them.
If you’re a chief or fire officer, don’t let the opportunity to speak to these older members pass you by either. Anything that you are dealing with currently has probably been dealt with before, but in many cases, fall to “institutional knowledge” rather than being documented for the future. The older, retired members you meet may have answers regarding your issues that you simply never considered. From a historical perspective, they may help you to lay the groundwork to make decisions or policy, simply based on what worked or didn’t work in the past.
BUT YOU ARE ONE OF THE OLD FOLKS
Teach those coming up behind you. As a firefighter, EMT, officer, chief, commissioner, etc., you have influence on others. Hopefully those influences have been by positive example or in leadership roles. Even if it has not been formal or, a requirement of your position, you should take it to heart that your job as an experienced responder is to pass on what you’ve learned, found to work (or not work) and what you’ve come to know to be true or, not true. Share your experiences both positive and negative. What were your big ‘aha’ moments? When were you humbled in this profession and what did you do and/or learn from those experiences?
By the way, if you haven’t been humbled yet, don’t worry, it’s coming. It will happen when you least expect it and just about the time you’re feeling comfortable and confident in your skills It will be indelibly etched in your memory. If you pass that experience on to those coming up behind you, it will turn that humble moment into something positive.
WHO YOU ARE TO THEM
As you get older and become a more senior firefighter, officer, or chief, One of the most rewarding aspects of THE job is when a younger member tells you something that they learned from you and how they applied it and how it helped them.
I recently had a firefighter come up to me after many years and tell me how he never forgets to chock or control doors after seeing me force and race through a door into a rear courtyard at what would become a multiple-alarm tenement fire.
As the outside vent firefighter on the first-due ladder company, I forced the door and entered the rear yard only to have the door lock behind me, temporarily trapping me. He remembered me yelling and cursing as I had to re-force the door open to get back to the front fire escape. Yep, he learned something from me alright—what not to do! But, that’s OK. Learning experiences can be from both positive and negative influences.
Leave your company or department better than it was before you got there. Share your experiences with those coming up behind you, and be sure to thank those who came before you—the ones who made you what you are today.
Bio:
Stephen Marsar, MA, EFO, CIC, is a 38-year emergency services veteran and a battalion chief for the Fire Department of New York. He is a former chief and commissioner of the Bellmore (NY) Volunteer Fire Department, an FDNY Type 1 IMT unit leader, a national fire instructor I and II, a New York State EMS regional faculty member, and a Nassau (NY) Community College adjunct professor. Marsar has a master’s degree in homeland defense and security from the Naval Postgraduate School and a bachelor’s degree in fire science and emergency services administration from SUNY—Empire State College. He is also a two-time winner of the FEMA/USFA National Outstanding Research Award. Marsar travels throughout the United States and abroad as a speaker and is an advisory board member of Fire Engineering and FDIC International.