00/04/28

Yesterday I had a hard job to do, it was both a curse and a blessing I guess.

Firefighting is a very strange occupation, and firefighters are a very strange bunch overall. In the Klambucket Falls FD we're what's called a "Combination Fire Department" This means that we have both Volunteer and Career members. As a matter of fact the volunteers vastly outnumber the career members. Every one of us began as a volunteer and most of the few of us who have career positions still work as volunteers as well.

Someone once asked my why I'm a firefighter, the only answer I could come up with was "Because I have to be".

Often when I look around at the members of this profession I realize that many of us don't choose this job, it chooses us.

Yesterday I had to give a qualification test to one of my oldest friends in the department. There are many different tests we need to undergo on a regular basis to maintain qualification in the myriad of skills we need today. We need to maintain certification, licenses and proficiency in more and more stuff every year. This guy has been a member of th KFFD for thirty five years this year, and I had to fail him.

He had already failed it once, the test I gave him yesterday was a remedial test. Fred's skills have been deteriorating for years. Fred started out as an outstanding firefighter, and maintained that standing for three decades. In the last five years the requirements of the job have been becoming simply too much for him. There is just so much to do, learn, and understand. It's not easy for any of us but for Fred it has been especially difficult as he's pretty clearly learning disabled.

Fred's heart is huge, he's a caring, loving, dedicated man that wants nothing more than to serve his fellow man, and ride the rigs.

On Thursday I tested him, and that big heart broke.

After the test we walked to my office and sat down with the door closed. He looked at me and his eyes said it all, he knew he had failed miserably, and he knew that there was no way in hell I could cut him any slack this time.

I went through the results with him and offered him the opportunity for another test. Fred and I have known one another for 18 years, and fought side by side many times. His eyes welled up and he told me that he thought maybe it was time to pull the pin. There was silence between us for what seemed like all afternoon as we sat there and let those words echo in our hearts.

Volunteer firefighters do their jobs for one reason, Love. They love the job, the excitement, the challenge, and the people they serve. Retirement isn't something we look forward to, it's a kind of death.

Fred knew it was time, and so did I, but what the hell could I say to him?

I said "Fred, you've been riding those rigs since I was three years old, there are people today who can look at children and grandchildren they never would have had if you hadn't laid hands on them and done your job right. There are 85,000 people outside those doors who owe you a debt of thanks for all you've done. Shit, you've given three quarters of your life to this town. When the day comes that I retire I hope to hell I can do it knowing I did a job half as good as the one you've done."

We ended up standing there hugging each other and crying.

It was like putting my old dog down. I knew it was the kindest thing to do, and it was an act of love, but it still tore my heart out to have to be the one to do it.

Like I said before, it was a curse and a blessing. A curse because it hurt so much to have to do it, but a blessing also, because I know that it was done as painlessly as humanly possible.
 
 
 
 
 
 

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