"Living The Dream"

The experience of being a live-in firefighter is one that most who have ever done it would not trade for anything.  “Living the dream,” it is called by many, particularly those who never had the opportunity, and they are not wrong. 

A few things do change, arguably for the better, after you move out and on.  Language is one.  Fire stations are not kind to the vocabulary.  The F-word is not only a noun, verb, and adjective, but in skilled firehouse hands, can be used as punctuation.  I remember having to consciously restrict myself when outside the station in “normal” company to avoid saying things like “pass the f@^*ing potatoes.”   As time passes, so does the propensity to use the F-word in every sentence.  Once or twice a paragraph suffices. 

Sleep improves as well.  When living in the station, I think I slept eight straight hours once a week, maybe.  Between calls, staying up late bullshitting, and calls, three to five hours was a normal night’s sleep.  This experience is excellent practice for the period following the birth of your first and subsequent children.  That amount of sleep would now leave me on a continuous coffee intravenous. 

The live-in opportunity is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Thankfully, it is one you only get to do when you’re young. 

My Top Ten....

Lists of the top ten this or that have been the rage for years, and fodder for great fun and debate.   I decided to add to the noise with a selection of my Top Ten Fire Service reads.  This is totally subjective and personal, and is my list today.  It could change tomorrow.  Everyone out there can and probably would come up with a different list.   

My list is hopelessly prejudiced because of two selections I would automatically make.  The books below are not in any particular order. 

·         Report From Engine Company 82—Dennis Smith

·         Fireground Tactics—Emanuel Fried

·         Firefight:  Inside the Battle to Save the Pentagon on 9/11—Patrick Creed and Rick Newman

·         D.C. Fire—Dennis Rubin

·         Last Men Out:  Life on the Edge at Rescue 2 Firehouse—Tom Downey

·         Population 485-Meeting Your Neighbors One Siren at a Time—Michael Perry

·         Thirty Years on the Line—Leo Stapleton

·         B-Shifter:  A Firefighter’s Memoir—Nick Brunacini 

·         Mayday! Firefighter Down—Gary Ryman

·         Fire Men:  Stories From Three Generations of a Firefighting Family—Gary Ryman

This is an eclectic list and includes some works that many may have never heard of, much less read.  Some haven’t been in print for a while (but may be available on the used market).  Only one is a true “tactics and strategy” book—introduced to me by my Dad over 30 years ago.  It was good then and is still relevant now.  There’s not a book on this list I haven’t read multiple times.   

I hope you’ll put together your own list and hopefully at least one of mine will make it! 

 

Here are some links to a few of the above. 

 

Mayday! Firefighter Down

 

Fire Men: Stories From Three Generations of a Firefighting Family

 

D.C. Fire

 

Report From Engine Company 82

 

Firefight: Inside the Battle to Save the Pentagon on 9/11

 

 

 

 

 

Proof!--It's a Great Beach Read!!!

A Writing Update

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing.  To the contrary, in the last few months I’ve completed the first draft of Fire In His Bones, which is the working title for the sequel to Mayday! Firefighter Down.  Editing and a second draft is well underway on this manuscript and I’m jotting down ideas for the third and final book in the series.  In Fire In His Bones, Dave Michaels fans can follow him with his promotion to Captain and assignment as the company commander of the elite Squad 1.  It will be an exciting ride…

At the same time, I’ve finished the first draft of another novel on a non-fire topic, which allowed me to creatively stretch a bit.  This book, entitled The Education of Stuart McGrath, is political satire set in the satirical gold mine which is Scranton, Pennsylvania.  Stuart is a young grad school political junkie who by the force of sheer competence, an unusual commodity in Scranton electoral politics, and a cheap salary, rises to the illustrious if deceiving position of Chief of Staff to the mayor.  This manuscript is fermenting in the bottom drawer of my desk for another few weeks before I begin the revision process, but I’m excited to take a fresh pass at what I hope will be a fun book. 

Time to fire up the coffee and get back to work….

An End of Winter Teaser

It’s been an interminable winter, good only for one thing, writing.  Work on the sequel to Mayday: Firefighter Down! is coming along, up to around 69,000 words so far.  Predicting when a project will be complete is an act of futility, but a “teaser” may be in order.  No plot or story hints right now, but here is a scene I recently finished. 

Mickey was on kelly day Monday, the next day Dave’s shift worked.  Firefighter Mark Perry, a five year man, was detailed in to cover the shift.  On overtime from the fifth battalion, none of the truck crew had worked with him before. 

            The morning routine proceeded normally until Dave walked into the kitchen around 8:15 for a caffeine refill and found the detail man sitting at the table reading the newspaper.  Before he could say anything, Pizza walked in. 

            “Have you finished your equipment check out, kid?” 

            Dave knew Pizza wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t already know the answer. 

            Perry answered without looking up from the paper.

            “I’ll get to it.” 

            Joe balled up his fists and started for the detail man until Dave raised his hand. 

            “Perry, my office, now.” 

            “Come on, Captain; don’t tell me you’re one of those rule book pukes.  I heard you were a straight shooter.” 

            Dave looked over at Pizza.  He used every ounce of restraint in his body not to grab the kid by the throat. 

            “Perry, either walk out the door and go on sick leave or get your ass in my fucking office now.” 

            The young firefighter rose, and faced Michaels.

            “Sure Captain, let’s go have a chat.” 

            In the office, Dave leaned against his desk while Perry slouched in one of the extra chairs.  The engine officer was out on a run. 

            “What’s your problem?” Dave asked.

            “My problem?  I’m here on an overtime shift, not to kill myself.  You want to give me that rule book shit, no problem.  I’ll be filing a grievance by lunch time.” 

            “Kid, let me explain something to you.  On this company, firefighting isn’t something we do, it’s who we are.  You just want to collect a check, go back to the fifth.  I don’t want you here.” 

            “Gladly, I feel like I’ve got a fever coming on anyway,” Perry said, rising from the chair.  Michaels walked past him and opened the office door, motioning him out.  As he hit the threshold, Dave said, “he’s all yours, Pizza.” 

            Outside the office, Pizza waited.  Perry walked out and Dave shut the door behind him.  Pizza grabbed Perry by the throat with one hand and lifted him from the ground, pinning him against the wall. 

            “You listen to me, fuck-wad.  You’re not going to file a grievance; you’re not going to file shit.  I know everybody in this department and I’ll make sure the rest of your short career will be a living hell.  You want to learn to be a fireman, stay; we’ll teach you.  You want to leave, be my guest.  I don’t give a shit which.  Now nod you understand.” 

            Perry’s face was red, verging on purple from lack of oxygen.  Pizza flexed his wrist to make the young man’s head bob like a puppet.  He dropped him to the floor, turned, and walked away.  Perry sank to his knees, gasping for breath, bruises starting to form on his neck. 

            Within minutes, Perry gathered his gear and exited the rear door, driving away without another word.  Dave walked across the apparatus floor to the battalion chief’s office. 

            “My detailed firefighter went home sick,” he told the chief.  The older man looked up from his desk and Dave, lifting one eyebrow. 

“Anything I need to know, Dave?”

“You may not want to take him in the battalion on any more details; seems prone to…illness.” 

            “Got it, Dave; you okay running understaffed until I can call somebody in?” 

            “Yeah, we’re fine.  Give Mickey a call.  I don’t think he had anything special planned today; might make it easier.”  Dave knew Mickey might appreciate the overtime he’d get paid for coming in on his day off.

            “Okay Dave, I’ll let you know.” 

 

 

The Hidden Button

The young couple lived in the house a week, a month, perhaps a year or more before making the mysterious discovery.  Inside the closet door in the master bedroom, carefully concealed, was a white circular button in a black vertical frame.  It was inside the right door where a knowing hand could reach around the casing and push it without looking.   

“Maybe it opens a hidden door to a secret room,” the woman said.  The man rolled his eyes.   

“Better would be a secret compartment filled with cash,” the man said. (Dream on, kids) 

“I’ve read about those secret safe rooms.  Wouldn’t that be cool?”  The woman watched a lot of television.   

“Maybe it sounded a buzzer in the kitchen for the wife to bring the husband a beer,” the man grinned.  

 

“You can dream on,” his wife said.   

The real function was far more mundane but no less crazy.  I told Dad I could hear this dialogue in my mind; the future owners of his house having this conversation in the years to come when they discovered his button.  To them, the button would likely remain a mystery forever, discussed on occasion when a new theory for the whodunit arose.  

The button, an old fashioned door bell was connected to the garage door opener for Dad’s car.  Not willing to wait the five seconds, maybe, for the door to go up once he reached the garage when responding to a fire, he installed it when the house was built.   When the Plectron went off (remember those?) he would reach into the closet as he finished dressing, hand knowing the way, and push the button.  By the time he reached the garage, the door was fully open.  Speed and efficiency out of the house didn’t happen by accident.   

“Maybe it was a panic or emergency alarm, like the buttons in a bank,” the woman would say, the mystery continuing.  

“I still like the beer idea,” the man would offer.  

“I told you, dream on.” 

 

Get Out of Your Comfort Zone: More Advice for the New Fire Officer

Comfort zones are a wonderful thing.  Avoid yours.  One of the most important, and difficult, things to do is get avoid simple acceptance of the status quo.  “We’ve always done it that way” are some of the most dangerous words out there.  On the flip side of the coin, change simply for its own sake, can be just as problematic.  The newest, latest, greatest, hottest change in tactics, tools, or techniques, isn’t always.   

Always what?  Well it’s not always great, or in some cases, actually new.  Recycling old ideas or techniques with new names and calling it progress has been part of the culture for a long time. 

So what is a new fire officer (or any fire officer for that matter) to do?  How about this for a radical idea—think.   

Think for yourself.  Don’t blindly accept either the status quo or the latest greatest.  Examine both with a high degree of rigor.  I’m not suggesting blatant disregard of standard operating procedures, whether existing or new, but there’s nothing wrong with looking at them critically.   

Challenge yourself.  Specifically select articles, blogs, and authors to read with whom you inherently disagree, and then try to read them with an open mind.  Evaluate their arguments dispassionately.   Look behind the data.  How was it developed?  Was the methodology valid or do you perceive flaws?  

 

They may not change your mind, but you will better understand the arguments others are making on a particular topic.  Reading in this way also opens you up to the possibility that in some cases, you might need to acknowledge your own pre-conceived notions may not be correct. 

Try to find a few fellow officers, peers and superiors, with whom you can have a wide ranging, non-judgmental dialogue on fire service issues.  A few adult beverages (the operative word being few) can sometimes help lubricate these discussions.  The response “that’s #($*& stupid and so are you,” is not the type of conversation you are shooting for.  An open and respectful debate can sharpen thought processes, expose unanticipated flaws in policies and procedures, and overall, be valuable for all participants.   

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out; all of this is easier said than done.  Comfort zones are called that for a reason.  They’re nice enjoyable places to stay where you don’t have to think.  Critical thinking in this manner is one of the most important tools of the fire officer and leader.  Get out of your comfort zone and try it. 

Upcoming Novel Mayday! Firefighter Down

More announcements in the upcoming months, but....here is the first shot of the cover of my new book the novel "Mayday! Firefighter Down" tentatively scheduled for release by October of this year. The publisher is thrilled and excited with the work they did on the cover, and I agree with them. Can't wait to hold the first copy in my hands.

Great New 5 Star Review for "Fire Men."

"Strike the box" is a term from the not too-distant past, used when fire fighters arrived at the scene of a reported car fire only to discover that it's a house that' on fire, and a full "box assignment" of three engines and a ladder truck is needed. Well, not only did Mr. Ryman strike the box of my expectations when I began reading "Fire Men," he went right to the second, third and fourth alarms.

Mr. Ryman begins his series of tales by putting the reader into a comfortable bed, only to jar them awake with a blaring alarm, getting them hurriedly attired in turn-out gear, and inside a house that's on fire--only to amp it up when a backdraft threatens his life and that of an already horribly-burned colleague. And I was right there alongside him, not only because of his powerful narrative voice but also because I've been there--as a fire fighter during the 1970s I was caught in a backdraft almost identical to the one Mr. Ryman describes, and I can say with a certain degree of authority that Ryman ain't lyin' about what it was like for him inside that inferno.

"Fire Men" has a tactile feel to it. As I read the various tales he tells I could smell the smoke, feel the leather helmet on my head, could hear the shrill screams of the mechanical 'Federal Q' sirens and the stutters of the air horns. I also felt the fire's heat along with the fear. Mr. Ryman begins with a literal bang and then falls into a series of random stories - and that was what he should've done, because it evokes what being a fire fighter is all about . . . of boredom one moment, empathy for the dead in the next, followed by sheer terror when all around it seems that everything is coming down upon your head.

"Fire Men - Stories from Three Generations of a Fire Fighting Family" is a well-crafted book that kept me turning the pages all the way until I reached its very satisfying ending. Buy it, read it and above all, hang-on as you ride the roller-coaster ride that "Fire Men" is.

The most important six inches on the fire ground...

General James Mattis, USMC (Ret.) would have made one hell of a fire chief if he had so chosen.  Revered by fighters from private to four stars and probably disliked as much by those less aggressive, the forty-one year veteran was a lead from the front commander who went out with patrols and got blood on his boots as a General.  His radio sign—“Chaos.”  His command philosophies included sincere concern for those he was tasked to protect and liberate and a consummate scorn for our countries enemies.

Highly quotable, many of his pronouncements in the area of leadership and others are applicable to the fire service.  With just a few paraphrasing liberties, here are some of my favorites. 

“I don’t lose any sleep at night over the potential for failure.  I cannot even spell the word.” 

“Fight with a happy heart and a strong spirit.”

“You cannot allow any of your people to avoid the brutal facts.  If they start living in a dream world, it’s going to be bad.” 

“Powerpoint makes us stupid.” 

And if you remember none of the others, keep in mind the most valuable one.

“The most important six inches on the [fire ground] is between…your ears.”

From the Hayloft to the Horses: The Birth of the Fire Pole

Getting out of the station fast and first isn’t a new or even recent interest for firefighters.  It’s something the brethren have worked on for over a century.  In the 1800s, multi-floor stations were the rule rather than the exception; a necessary configuration in the days of the horses.  Fast and effective methods for harnessing the teams, almost as quick as firing a diesel engine, had been developed.   

A hitch in the process of getting out the door as fast as possible remained, some thought. Getting from the bunkroom on an upper floor to the apparatus was slowed by the common use of circular stairs which were in place to keep the horses from trying to leave the first floor. 

At Engine 21 in Chicago, Captain David Kenyon saw one of his firefighters slide a wooden binding pole, typically used on a hay wagon during transport, which had been temporarily stored vertically in the loading area of the hayloft, when a call was received while he was working in the third floor loft.  Recognizing a great idea when he saw it, Captain Kenyon arranged for a hole from the second floor bunk room to the apparatus floor, and the crew took a Georgia pine beam and rounded and sanded it to 3 inch diameter.  Varnished and coated with paraffin wax, it was ready for service. 

Firefighters at the other stations laughed until they saw Engine 21beating them to fires, and eventually the Chief decided to have poles installed in all Chicago stations.  In 1880, the Boston Fire Department installed the first brass pole, which became the standard going forward.  

 

The poles became part of fire department heritage, memorialized on television and in movies—think Batman and Ghostbusters.  Now gone from most stations, another of the classic era trappings fading from use, the pole remains a memory of an important period which will hopefully not be forgotten.   

The Birth of a Legend: The Snorkel

The once common Snorkel long ago became the fire service “Xerox” of articulating platforms.  If it bent in the middle, that’s what it was called.  One normally thinks of design, particularly of something as complex as aerial fire apparatus, as a long process involving engineering calculations and the development of sophisticated plans.  Didn’t happen that way… 

Back in 1958, Chicago Fire Commissioner Robert Quinn borrowed a tree trimming truck with a 50 ft. articulating boom and platform and attached a monitor nozzle to the basket.  A three inch hose line was strapped to the booms to feed it, and a new piece of firefighting apparatus was born.  Load and stability testing was done on the tree trimmer, and when found to work, the rig was painted red and placed in service.  Known in the “Windy City” as “Quinn’s Snorkel,” reputedly because the firefighter’s got so wet in the bucket and thought it resembled the diving device—I don’t see the resemblance myself—the name stuck.  

The original tree trimming truck was built by the Missouri based Pitman Manufacturing Company.  In 1959, a stockholder by the name of Art Moore acquired the Snorkel product line and established the Snorkel Fire Equipment Company.  

The first Snorkel was retired in 1968, and subsequently acquired by the Snorkel Company and restored at their St. Joseph, Missouri manufacturing facility.  While less common elsewhere, snorkel type apparatus remains in service in Chicago to this day. 

 

 

The author flying a circa 1970 American LaFrance "Aero-Chief" articulating platform in the early 1980s.

 

A great look back.

A Throwback Thursday Video

A fire from Chapter 16 of Fire Men:  Stories From Three Generations of a Firefighting Family.

Pallet Plant Fire

A New Way of Training: Changing How We Think

Just about two weeks ago, I had the great opportunity to discuss fire service training on the Fire Engineering radio show hosted by Chief Dennis Rubin along with Chiefs P.J. Norwood, Jonathan Riffe, and Lieutenant Frank Ricci.  The questions and discussions were thought provoking.  For myself, I tried to concentrate my comments beyond the day to day tactical training areas which, while critically important, were covered exceptionally well by my fellow participants.  Instead, I tried to focus on an area I see as under discussed—advanced education.   

It’s not sexy and certainly not as “fun” as live fire evolutions, firefighter survival, or even the bread and butter practice of advancing lines or throwing ladders.  What it is, though, is critical for the “business” of the fire service. 

The importance of lifelong learning cannot be over emphasized.  The next generation of fire service leaders will be confronted with a spectrum of problems only some of which we can imagine.  Others will reveal themselves over time.  Managing the “all hazards” response agency that fire departments have become in a continuing era of increasing demands and highly pressured financial resources will need a new problem solving paradigm.  This won’t come about by simply repeating what we’ve done in the past, as good as it may have been.  It will require a new generation of strategic multi-dimensional thinkers.  The military has understood this for decades, sending officers for advanced degrees in a multitude of disciplines at “civilian” universities.   

I’ve argued before, college level classes, particularly in the humanities, won’t teach you to handle a nozzle better, but if you let them, they will teach you to think, to examine and solve problems differently.  Problem solving, with the challenges of the future, will be a skill of paramount importance.  

A thought process which looks at problems from a historical perspective, from one of engineering and mathematics, business and statistics, and puts all these pieces together, will help bring new and innovative solutions to the forefront.  The catch phrase “thinking outside the box” is easy to say, but much harder to do.  Non fire related classes teach some of these alternative problem solving methods, how to look at issues from other directions and perspectives—essentially a new and different way to think.   

The next generation of leaders will need not only to be great firefighters and command officers; they will need to be outstanding writers, politicians, accountants, business managers, and strategic planners. 

Smoke Detectors and 10 Years: What's So Special?

Great to have the cover story of Connections Magazine in the November edition!

Connections Magazine

Upcoming Radio Show Appearance...

Hosted by Chief Dennis Rubin......

 

"Please join me for the next "Contemporary Issues in the Fire - Rescue Service on Fire Engineering Blog Radio. We "Go Live" on Monday, November 11, 2013 at 7:30 pm (Eastern Time Zone). The topic for my November 11th Fire Engineering Blog Radio Show will be "Tips, Tricks & Pitfalls of Fire-Rescue Service Training & Education".

We have an amazing cast of presenters for the show on the 11th. Appearing live and in person will be Chief Paul Norwood (CT), Chief Jon Riffe (MD), Chief Gary Ryman (PA) & Lieutenant Frank Ricci (CT). I will be personally honored to be your host and moderator. Has my Mother always told me, I am the man with the "Face for Radio". Please call-in and let's chat about training issues.

So, please tune-in and listen to the best in the business talk about all aspects of training presentations to include textbook development, DVD programing and much more! Be there or Be Square - See you on the Radio my friends. Until next time please be safe out there!"

 

Fire Engineering Radio

The Original Denis Leary

Today we think of Johnny and Roy as an ancient historical portrayal of firefighters; their all-American wholesomeness overtaken by more complex characters and stories in Backdraft, Ladder 49, Rescue Me, and now Chicago Fire.  All of these, and the original “Emergency” are but Johnny-come-lately’s (pun intended) to the original and main theatrical firefighter of American History. 

Fireman Mose Humphreys was played by actor Frank Chanfrau in thousands of performances on stages throughout the country in the 1840s and 1850s.  Although nine scripts were written, only one survives.  He became an urban folk hero; the personification of New York firemen and to some degree, all volunteers of the day. 

Mose was a cigar smoking, heavy drinking, hard fighting, baby rescuing, rowdy fireman who stood for good against con-men, crooks, and politicians.  Think Denis Leary before there was Denis Leary.  The working class of the day related to the character and stories as he protected the community, rescued “damsels,” and fought the politicians.  The middle class viewed him differently as a symbol of societal unrest. 

The performances in the 1800s resulted in something more than just entertainment.  They provided fuel for debates on fire department reform, particularly in cities which experienced firefighter violence.  While many historians today agree that the early stories of firemen fighting each other on scenes were overblown and not as widespread as legend has it, the instances which did occur were likely magnified by the fictional portrayal.  Mose became a caricature, and as he grew in popularity, so did the inaccurate perceptions that all firefighters were involved in violent behavior. 

In today’s world with the pervasive presence of social media, you tube, and myriad other forms of entertainment, this past history is interesting in showing that public perception being shaped by art is not new.  There was no actual Mose, but his character was based—with obvious fictional liberties—on the characteristics observed in firemen of the day.  That a fictional character influenced public debate and change in the fire services of the day should be instructional to us.  Who is more real; Tommy Gavin or Johnny and Roy? 

 

Are We Better Off?

Not long ago, I had one of those “solve the world’s problems” conversations with a close friend of mine.  We do this from time to time and although we accomplish absolutely nothing, changing not a thing, we both feel better at the conclusion.  Part of this particular chat covered a topic not new to us and one we’ve “solved” before.  The operative question was “have the technological ‘improvements’ to fire apparatus actually resulted in being able to better extinguish fires?”   

Our short answer to this burning question was “no.”  There is no question that today’s apparatus with the enclosed cab is far safer and has gone some distance in reducing injuries and fatalities from the days of open jump seats and riding the back step (getting dressed on the back step wasn’t just crazy—it was stupid).  That, however, was not what we were talking about.  It was more fundamental concept; that of putting wet stuff on red stuff.   

My friend and I both started with engines without crosslays; back when all pre-connects came off the back (one thing from the old days that seems to slowly be regaining some favor).  The pump had two gauges.  If two lines of different lengths or sizes were in operation, the pump operator established his pressure (yes it was always a him back then—no editorial comment intended) and gated the other line down by experience and feel.  Not the most accurate method, but it worked well for generations.  What the pump panel didn’t look like was the cock pit of the space shuttle, which some of today’s bear a striking resemblance to.   

Individual gauges?  Love them.  But flow meters, electronic valves, etc. simply add more things to break.  I won’t even begin to talk about adding CAFS to the equation; a subject for another day.  Not needing a ladder to get up to the deck gun was arguably an advantage of old versus new; and reaching hose lines and ground ladders without having to climb another one. 

Pumps ran, lines and ladders were pulled, and fires went out in the old days.  Simple has some attractive benefits.  It breaks less often, is easier to maintain and, arguably, to teach.  I’m not advocating a return to the open cab ’68 of yesteryear, but ask yourself honestly if the fires are going out better, quicker, or easier with the increased complexity of modern engines and if you’re honest, the truth is obvious. 

More you might be a Redneck Firefighter if….

The soda machine in the station is actually loaded with Genesee, Iron City or insert low end beer here.

Four guys get off a piece of apparatus and three of them are related (whether they know it or not).

The portables still have extendable antennas.

The “donations” from filling pools with the tanker are a major source of department income. 

The Memorial Day Chicken Barbeque at the station is the social event of the year. 

A call comes in at 7:00 AM on the first day of deer season and the only one who moves are the deer. 

One of the first line pieces still has coats, boots, and helmets hanging from a rack on the side.

The port-a-pond doubles as the town swimming pool on hot summer days. 

Dilbert and the Fire Department

The cartoon “Dilbert” wouldn’t be so funny if it weren’t so situationally accurate which long ago led me to develop one of “Ryman’s Rules” relating to the strip. This one is not a law of physics, but a sociological paradigm which states that: Morale of any organization is inversely proportional to the number of Dilbert cartoons hanging on the walls.  With that in mind, how many of these comic strip worthy situations have you seen or experienced?

Pulling into a fire scene with an assignment to lay a supply lie and finding the hose bed empty, the line having accidentally laid during the response.  Funny how that never happened when we rode the back step; oh well.

Watching a hose bed turn into silly string when the pump operator charges the wrong line—the one not pulled.

Getting ready to drain the drop tank and finding the drain placed on the uphill side. 

Extending the “blue line” with yellow hose and handing it to a new crew who then asks for the “yellow line” to be charged. The reason I hate color coded lines.

Scanning mobile and portable radios—the important information always gets cut off. Enough said.

Pump operators who think “100 pounds is good enough for everything.”

Did you ever notice the same five guys who always have to leave for work the minute it’s time to wash the rigs and hose after a run?

The company responding for RIT that calls out with five and shows up with a driver and four juniors. 

The officer, who when in charge of a training night, waits until everyone arrives and then says “so what do you guys want to do tonight?”

Fire Police who drive like Jeff Gordon for some reason assuming it is critical they be the first on scene—in order to direct traffic. 

The citizen who on an annual basis, waits for the windiest day of the year to burn trash, resulting in a 5 acre brush fire, and then acts surprised when he gets yelled at. 

Looking at the personal vehicles parked during the inevitable call on the afternoon of the first day of buck season and marveling that there is more firepower present than that possessed by the entire local police department. Actually true most any day for rural departments.

The local cop who on an automatic fire alarm offers to shoot the lock off the door instead of waiting for the apparatus or key holder.  His offer was turned down.

The guy with more state class patches on his sleeve than a Sergeant Major has stripes—who won’t go inside. 

The guy with the two door subcompact car and a blue light bar so big it extends feet beyond the sides of the car. So big you wonder if the car will rotate when the lights are turned on.

The guy who carries three pagers and two portable radios—all on his belt at the same time. Note: The three above are often the same guy. 

The brush fire in a two acre field with only a single solitary tree located right in the center—which the brush truck driver hits while backing up.    

You know you’re really in trouble when three pieces of apparatus, all responding to the same call, reach the same intersection; and one turns left, one goes straight, and the third turns right.

Last, but certainly not least, (insert favorite personal activity here) with your significant other is invariably interrupted by the pager.