In Honor of Our Nation's Finest - Firefighters

My personal firefighter (my husband) retired from his position as a full-time firefighter for our local fire department. He had 21 years service with them and retired April 1998. Everyone on the department has a nickname and his is "Little Brother". He retired as a captain and has absolute and total loyalty and respect from his men. He never took unnecessary chances and never asked his men to do anything he wasn't right there beside them doing too. This group of men is closer than a family; they are together 24 out of every 72 hours. His shift in particular was a very close-knit group. Nelson thought it was time to let some of the younger captains get plenty of experience as the older ones won't work forever. So, he moved from the Central Station to one of the Satellite stations. I think this was a great plan. I was also glad he'd be at a station that didn't see as much action. (The wife in me has to come out sometime!) Probably the most important part of fighting fires is knowing the man behind you is watching your behind as well as his own. I am proud of every one of our firefighters and wish others could realize what these men give up to do what they do.

Nelson in uniform here

Adam & Pam's Abode

Smoke Eater's Homepage

Smokey The Bear's Official Homepage

National Fallen Firefighter's Memorial

Mike's Fire Page

This poem was written by James McNulty for a fallen friend. I found it in Reader's Digest.

Brother when you
weep for me
Remember that it
was meant to be
Lay me down and
when you leave
Remember I'll be
at your sleeve.
So remember as
you wipe your tears
The joy I knew
throughout the years
As I did the job
I loved to do
I pray that thought
will see you through.

The Firefighter's Prayer

When I'm called to duty God
wherever flames may rage
give me strength to save a life
whatever be its age.

Help me to embrace a little child
before it is too late
or save an older person from
the horror of that fate.

Enable me to be alert
to hear the weakest shout
and quickly and efficiently
to put the fire out.

I want to fill my calling and
to give the best in me
to guard my neighbor and
protect his property.

And if according to your will
I have to lose my life
bless with your protecting hand
my children and my wife.

What Is a Fireman?

He's the guy next door - a man's man with the memory of a little boy.
He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.
He's a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.
Yet he stands taller than most of us.
He's a fireman.
He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.
A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.
He's a man who saves lives because he's seen too much death.
He's a gentle man because he has seen the awesome
power of violence out of control.
He's responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held
too many small bodies that will never laugh again.
He's a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life -
hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone
and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaradarie of brave men -
the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.
He doesn't wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.
When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.
He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.

I Wish You Could

I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes
up in flames or that family returning home, only to find their house and
belongings damaged or destroyed.

I wish you could know what it is to search a burning bedroom for trapped
children, flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as
you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen beneath you
burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 A.M. as I check her
husband of forty years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway,
hoping against hope to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late.
But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done.

I wish you could know the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear,
the sound of flames crackling, and the eeriness of being able to see
absolutely nothing in dense smoke-- "sensations that I have become too
familiar with."

I wish you could understand how it feels to go to school in the morning
after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple
alarm fire.

I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire, `Is this a
false alarm or a working, breathing fire? How is the building constructed?
What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped? ' or to an EMS call, `What is
wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening? Is the caller
really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?'

I wish you could be in the emergency room as the doctor pronounces dead the
beautiful little five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during
the past twenty-five minutes, who will never go on her first date or say
the words, "I love you Mommy!", again.

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine, the
driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again
and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield right-of-way at an
intersection or in traffic. When you need us, however, your first comment
upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"

I wish you could read my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage
years from the mangled remains of her automobile, `What if this were my
sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What were her parents' reactions going
to be as they open the door to find a police officer, HAT IN HAND?'

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my
parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that you nearly did
not come home from this last call.

I wish you could feel my hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically,
abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of, "It
will never happen to me."

I wish you could realize the physical, emotional, and mental drain of
missed meals, lost sleep and foregone social activities, in addition to all
the tragedy my eyes have viewed.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save
a life or preserving someone's property, of being there in times of crisis,
or creating order from total CHAOS.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging
on your arm and asking, "Is my mommy o.k.?" Not even being able to look in
his eyes without tears falling from your own and not knowing what to say.
Or to have hold back a long-time friend who watches his buddy having rescue
breathing done on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You knowing
all along he did not have his seat belt on--sensations that I have become
too familiar.

Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand or
appreciate who I am, what we are, or what our job really means to us.

I WISH YOU COULD!

THE FIREFIGHTER

Sirens sound! He awakes with a start and hastily grabs up his clothes,
dressing on the run, as he has so many times before.

Thumping of footsteps, motors churning, directions yelled, chaos!
TOTAL CHAOS! Or so it seems...yet, within seconds, dispatch...they are on
their way, racing down the street, sirens at ear-splitting pitch.
Meanwhile, his mind dashes to other nights-days of grueling, heartbreaking
tragedy-ridden, heat-searing work. And he cries to the depth of his soul,
"WHY DO I CONTINUE ?"

Loaded with nets, roof cutters, ladders, axes, etc. they don air masks as
they arrive. It is another bad one. Flames are shooting everywhere,
lighting the darkest of night with an eerie glow. Screaming, a man and
woman clutch to each other in panic.

Nothing but PURE Intuition, or so it seems, takes The Firefighter through
collapsing beams, up the stairs, past flaming bedrooms and into a tiny
closet to the side of a smoke filled bedroom. He quickly gathers two
squirming bundles in his arm, darts to the nearest window and throws them
to the waiting nets below...He leaps.

Restrained no longer, the man and woman bound for the nets. The
Firefighter, weakened, hears sounds that are so far away, of a little dog's
whimper, happy cries and excited voices. Then, an explosion rocks the very
ground upon which he lay. Through the pain of a broken arm, he feels a
little dog licking his face, and slowly opens his eyes, the depth of his
soul is touched, he will never be the same, he needs no thank you's, because
he now knows the very reason "WHY HE CONTINUES"; for within her happy
parents'arms.....

a child smiles.

A Fire Fighter's Pledge

I promise concern for others. A willingness to help all those in need.

I promise courage - courage to face and conquer my fears. Courage to share and endure the ordeal
of those who need me.

I promise strength - strength of heart to bear whatever burdens might be placed upon me.
Strength of body to deliver to safety all those placed within my care.

I promise the wisdom to lead, the compassion to comfort, and the love to serve unselfishly
whenever I am called.

The Last Alarm

My father was a fireman.
He drove a big red truck
and when he'd go to work each day
he'd say, "Mother wish me luck."

Then Dad would not come home again
'til sometime the next day.
But the thing that bothered me the most
was the things some folks would say,

"A fireman's life is easy,
he eats and sleeps and plays,
and sometimes he won't fight a fire
for days and days."

When I first heard these words
I was too young to understand
but I knew when people had trouble
Dad was there to lend a hand.

Then my father went to work one day
and kissed us all goodbye
but little did we realize
that night we all would cry.

My father lost his life that night
when the floor gave way below
and I wondered why he'd risk his life
for someone he did not know.

But now I truly realize
the greatest gift a man can give
is to lay his life upon the line
so that someone else might live.

So as we go from day to day
and we pray to God above
say a prayer for your local fireman.
He may save the ones you love.

A Fire Chief's Prayer

I am called to many duties Lord and now I've been called home.
I've had to leave the ones I love to stand before your throne.

I'll not complain, its not my way but there are some things I'll ask.
And please , Lord, grant them to me for the loved ones I hold fast.
I dare to ask because I know how you've blessed in the past.

I've learned to trust in your grace, O Lord that's how I've come this far.
So now, O God, I humbly pray Hear this Fire Chief's prayer.

Bless my wife and family -- so often left alone,
They knew where I was going and trusted you to bring me home.

Well, now I'm home and wait for them keep them within the faith
-- that one day, Someday, we'll be together in this place.

And O dear God, bless my men I trained them as best I could.
I tried to do your will with them and lead them as you would.

I need to know you're with them Lord Or else how can I stay
And peacefully enjoy this place of endless day.

This heaven where there is no night no fire to kill and burn
I guess that's why its now my rest, my place, my turn.

And Lord, be with my community and keep it safe as it can be
For all its folks are special, and very dear to me.

They are all my friends, and by your grace I served them as best I could.
So hear this Fire Chief's prayer, O Lord and grant it please-- I already knew you would.

Amen

Fireman's Wife

The table is set, the meal's prepared,
our guests will soon arrive.
My husband once more disappears
with a hope of keeping a child alive.
While waiting at home again alone,
our plans having gone awry.
My first impulse is merely to sit down and cry.
But soon again I realize the importance of my life
when I agreed to take on the duties of being a fireman's wife.
While there are many drawbacks,
I'll take them in my stride
The gusting winds and raging flames
may be his final fate,
But with God's help I can remain
my fireman's faithful mate.

Map of my homepage