Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Flames, Smoke, Ashes...and Tears

I am the daugther of a firefighter. And have been for nearly 20 years. My dad is the lieutenant as well as a firefighter and first responder(one step below EMT) with the local rural area volunteer company. A volunteer firefighter goes through all the rigorous training that a regular firefighter goes through but its more of a part-time gig. All the firefighters at his department have regular jobs and respond to calls when they are available. Being a fireman's daughter I have been to a fireman's funeral and some of our most favorite movies as a family are also very emotional for us as a family like "Backdraft" or "Ladder 49".

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When and Why he became a fireman:

It was a cold but dry December night. A week or two before my 11th or 12th birthday. We were going up to the church for the Ward Christmas Party. We were driving in separate cars, my mom and I in our car, and my dad and my brother in a van. My dad had done some body work on it for a friend from Church and was driving it to the Christmas Party since he was done working on it. We left our house at about the same time but I believe my dad had to return home for something so we arrived at the church a few minutes before they were supposed to arrive. We sat there for awhile wondering where my dad and brothers were. After a while we started to get worried. Someone arrived shortly at the party and told us that my dad and brothers had been in a car accident.

My dad driving the van he just did body work on was waiting for traffic to make a left hand turn. It being a more rural road there wasn't a left hand turn lane. There had been many accidents at this same intersection before so it had been habit to keep an eye on the rear view mirror. That's exactly what my dad was doing. He looked into the mirror and saw that the car behind him wasn't slowing down, reacting quickly my dad tried to get the van over to the shoulder hoping to miss an accident but to at least minimize the collision. The van didn't get out of the way quick enough and the car clipped the back of the van sending the van rolling over the shoulder and down a 10-15 foot embankment into the ditch. The local fire department was called. Although my dad and brothers weren't hurt too badly my brothers were really shook up. One of the firemen on the department was a man that my brothers and I knew well. He worked at our Elementary School, and our school bus stop was in his driveway. My dad witnessed the fear escape my brothers eyes when Gary began talking to them. He gained a deep respect for that man. Shortly after that accident my dad made the decision to join the fire department. Because of his rotating shift job schedule he was a great asset to the department. Unlike most other people at the department who worked M-F 8-5 my dad was available to go on calls during the day when others possibly wouldn't be.

I'm sure that any fireman will tell you, regardless if they're professional or a volunteer that there are calls that they respond to that shake them up. When we were kids my dad worried about the possible drowning down at the river, or the car vs. Bike calls. When we were teenagers he worried about the car vs. Car accidents, or car vs. Train accidents. Sometimes when he went on a call we'd get a lecture when he'd come home. "Don't you EVER do drugs!" We knew he had been on a call that was a drug overdose of someone close to our age.

I know that he has gone on a few calls over the years that have shook him up. Made him question his decision to join the fire department. I think any one in the medical field has those feelings when someone they're trying to save doesn't make it. He's been on a few of those.

Now that we're grown up I thought, (and maybe he did too) that the particular calls wouldn't effect him so much. But just like how my brothers and I grew up our friends did too. A year and a half ago my dad responded to a medical call. An 18 month old in fever induced coma. My dad along with the others on call were able to get the child breathing and rush him to the hospital. Only about a month later did my dad find out that little boy was the son of my high school best friend.

So on Friday night when I received a phone call from my dad asking me to give extra hugs and kisses to my little ones and tell them that grandpa loves them I knew that he had gone on a call that shook him up greatly. He said that he had a bad day and would be awhile before he could sleep well again.

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This is what happened:

Friday afternoon around 2pm my dad was preparing to leave for work. All the fireman at my dad's department carry around a pager, as well as having a box in the house. When a call goes into the 911 center they send out a specific tone. Each department in the area has a different tone. Well the tones went out on the box in the house and on the pager on my dad's belt. There was a brief description of a fire and then the address. My dad ran out the door but instead of jumping into the car to rush to the fire department he ran out into the driveway and to the house next door. You see the address they listed was just two numbers off from my parents address so my dad knew it was the house next door. He ran out expecting to see a little smoke curling out the front door, instead he saw the house almost fully engulfed with the mother screaming in the front yard. My dad ran to her, she was screaming that her child was still in inside, and my dad fought to keep her from running back into the house. He waited on the long gravel driveway for the trucks to arrive. He worked to keep the lane clear so the big trucks could get down to the end of the gravel road. When the trucks arrived he immediately started running the trucks while the man who drove the truck got his equipment on and went into the house. The little manufactured home went up quickly. They worked to put the fire out. The found the little body of a 3 year old in the child's bedroom. It had been too late. The little boy died in the fire.

The 3 yr old had been playing with a lighter in his bedroom. The 5 yr old brother came in and saw a fire and ran to tell his mom. The mom sent the 5 yr old out the front door to the other neighbor's house to call 911. The 3 yr old fearing he would be in trouble hid in his room.

After retelling the events my dad said to me "I guess your dad's not Superman anymore." It broke my heart to hear him say that. He questioned his actions. He said "if only I had gotten there a few minutes earlier and I knew which window was the child's bedroom I could have gone through the window." I tried to comfort him as well as I could. I was crying on the other end of the phone as well and he knew it.

I haven't talked to my family since that phone call. But I did receive an email from my mom this morning. There has been a lot of media coming down the gravel lane, and just a lot of curious "lookers" wanting to see the scene. Whenever there is an incident like this the department holds a special meeting to allow the guys to vent their feelings. My dad wasn't able to attend because of his normal job, so a close friend from the department is coming over tonight to visit with my dad and make sure he's doing okay.

I am so proud of my dad. He saw a place where he could help the community. He's helped countless numbers of people. He has made life long friends and touched many peoples lives. But every so often there is an event like this that reminds us that firemen aren't men of steel, they aren't Superman. First and foremost they are husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, and also grandfathers. I know my dad's emotional wounds will heal, but I also know that he will never become hardened so that things like this won't effect him. I doubt any fireman has.
Posted by ABQ Mom :: 4/25/2006 10:14:00 AM :: 6 Comments:

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