Fire

I've been around fire for much of my life. As a child, I had horrible, waking nightmares about fire. In one, I "woke" to find the desk next to my bed covered in glowing coals, steaming and smoking. In another, I looked around to see my room in flames, jumped out of bed and opened the door to see the hallway engulfed in flames. Both times, I started screaming that the house was on fire, causing my poor father to leap out of bed and charge past me down the hallway. Upon fully waking, nothing was amiss. The worst however, was the time I opened my eyes to see to severed hands floating above my bed. In one hand was a box of matches, the other, a wooden match. The second hand struck the match on the side of the box, and dropped the match in my bed. I can still see that in my minds eye, like it happened yesterday.

While my subconscious is apparently terrified of fire, I consciously have no fear, just respect. In fact, I've found myself drawn to fire. So much so I volunteered to become a firefighter back in 1986 when Cindy and I lived in Cortland. When we moved to Binghamton in 1988, I joined Prospect Terrace Fire Department, and have been a member ever since. Through training and on calls I've been in several building fires. It's quite an experience. First, despite the protective gear, it's much hotter than you might think. Also, it's very difficult to see, with the smoke and steam. The fire is often just a dull glow, not at all like the dramatic flames Hollywood likes to show. It can be very claustrophobic, and that is probably the number one cause of potential firefighters washing out. It is very unnerving to be in a dangerous environment with one of of your primary senses (sight) removed. In fact, when we train new firefighters, we will often put wax paper in their mask, or make them put their hood on backwards so they learn how to find their way on touch alone (though heavy gloves).

FDNY

This brings us to the horrible tragedy in New York City, where a firefighter perished. They were conducting an interior attack on a fire when the call came in to pullout. Somehow Michael Davidson became separated from the rest of his crew and was lost. Despite the imminent danger of collapse and a raging fire, his fellow firefighters went back in to find him. The pulled him out, but it was too late. He left behind a wife and four children under the age of 7.

Of course, FDNY handled this horrible loss with a sad dignity. They stood at solemn attention as their fallen brother was transported from the fire, to the hospital, to the funeral home. Once he was recovered, FF Davidson was never left alone, a brother or sister always at his side as he rested. Likewise, his young widow is accompanied everywhere by FDNY escorts.

Meanwhile, his engine, Engine 69, is taken out of service as brother and sister firefighters spend hours scrubing the hard working rig that will be Michael Davidson's final ride. The Emerald Society, FDNY's Pipes and Drums band played it's mournful tunes. It is overwhelmingly sad. The hardest men and women I have ever met, are reduced to tears, yet they remain at attention, saluting their fallen brother, with the same courage and fortitude with which they attack fire. Stronger and better people do not exist, yet they will downplay their role, their heroism. Immediately after the burial, many quickly return to their station, and await the bells which will send them off to their next call. No break given, none expected.

Make no mistake, these men and women are true hero's, in every sense of the world. As a volunteer firefighter I have a small glimpse of their world, yet I can hardly fathom a career of such danger and loss with over 26,000 annual structure fires (71 a day), and 1,150 firefighters killed in the 153 year history of the department. They have earned and deserve the respect of anyone that lives or visits New York City. If something goes wrong, no worries, they have your back and they're happy to help.

That is what we should all take from the tragedy: No matter how savage the punch, no matter how vicious the loss, the human spirit, embodied by The FDNY, will prevail. Take heart in that, and hug, or at least shake the hand, of the next firefighter you see. That's all they want.