AAAAHHHHH..... Christmas

The season of Christmas is finally upon us !

And while the Christmas season is full of meaning to so many people, it holds a very special place in the heart of firefighters. Anyone who has seen a Christmas parade know that if the "REAL" Santa Claus puts in an appearance, he invariably does so from the vantage point of a Fire Truck.

Now there are some caveats here- for instance; this is usually a platform, or ladder truck, but that is simply for the sake of visibility. Any firefighter worth his salt knows that Santa was a "Pump" man. I'll offer this as proof : He's always wearing that suit ( appears insulated to me), those turnout boots and gloves, ( I would have picked a different color than white, but who am I to judge Santa? I'm sure the man has his reasons.) He makes entry through a  dark place where there's usually fire, and the fact that he's always "first due".

What do I mean, First Due?
I'm glad you asked. Even if you subtract the number of households world-wide that don't believe, or that have no knowledge of the "Santa" story, that would still ( I'm guess-ta-mating here) leave a cool 4-6 BILLION people to visit between midnight on Christmas Eve, and Dawn of Christmas Day. There's just NO WAY to get that kind of performance out of an aerial truck. Besides, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'll save you some reading here. I found this picture online:

Santa, on  what is obviously a "Pump"

That's obviously a pump. And if you find/read it online, it has to be true, Right ?! I rest my case.
 Anyways, the whole point of this little diatribe is not to insult "truckies", It's to point out that there is a close relationship between the celebration of our biggest holiday, and the Fire Service in general. Firefighters, like everyone else; find themselves caught up in the joy of the giving spirit, and wrestling with the child-like glee of fostering "good will" towards our fellow man.

I especially delight in this quote from " A Christmas Carol". I found it (Yup, online again), and share it with you now. Isn't that what Christmas, and in fact the whole story of Christ is about? Opening your heart Freely to those below you? And I'm not just referring to Truckies here. ( Sorry, I couldn't resist.)
But in a Country so violently polarized, where people are convinced that THEIR viewpoint is truth, and everyone else is wrong- when we are so divided, isn't this just the Holiday spirit we need?

I invite you this season- inject some of the spirit in which Christ came into your holiday. Remember- He never called us to contend on his behalf, but rather to embody his earthly example. In the middle of your " hustle and bustle" take time to remember what it's about. These folks in this next clip did precisely that. When I watched it, I realized immediately that the God I know and love was there in that place, with those people. As the mechanics of the "Holiday Machine" ground to a halt, people all over this mall seemed touched by the presence of GOD.

Is there something I can do ? Someway to stop my busy schedule, and show the love of Christ to those I generally find myself at odds with, or racing against? I certainly hope so. These people did, and I'd like to leave you with their example:

Merry Christmas!! And God Bless Us... Everyone!

LOVE WILL KILL YOU

"Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds onto life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal." John 12:24-25 (msg)

firefighter Acosta points to the location of engine 10 on 9/11/2001

 Tomorrow is the anniversary of the September 11th attacks that cost 2.996 innocent people their lives. The day will arrive, and statements about loyalty, honor, and courage abound. For the briefest of moments, everyone is stirred, and everyone is vocal. For a dozen years, I said nothing when 9/11 rolled around. 
I said nothing because I had no idea what to say, or how to communicate what this day makes me feel. 


What is there to Say?

On September 11th, 2001, a vast company of men and women; firefighters and first responders, became Heroes. Rising above the ashes of their own destruction; the blinding light and crush of rubble, they were NOT destroyed. They were transformed. The world stood still as they underwent their Apotheosis- from human to HERO; transcending the tangled steel, the choking smoke and dust.

For me, it feels almost sacrilegious to even speak of it.

What do I know of the dedication that takes ? What words would I speak to remind others of the meaning of sacrifice? There is nothing I can contribute to the statement, that they; with their lives, have not already written.

343.



That is the most I have written about 9/11/2001 in more than 13 years. I have always wanted to say something, but have consistently stumbled at communicating how deeply it has effected my life. It was perplexing, looking for some deeper meaning in all of this, seeking words to put here, and coming up empty every time. I often thought that having the opportunity to see the site for myself would provide the clarification I was seeking, and December 2014 I got that chance.


I dressed in the darkness that morning, imagining what it was going to be like to finally stand at Ground Zero. I didn't completely understand why, but I knew that I would want to leave some token of respect there at the memorial-- I had no idea what. As silly as it may sound to some people, I picked up a patch from my department, and slid it into my pocket before heading downtown via the subway. I stopped at Engine 10, and walked through the station, just a stones throw from the site. One of the firefighters took me on a brief tour, and then I made my way through a cold and steady drizzle to the memorial. I marveled at the "survivor tree", found alive beneath the rubble, and coaxed back to life. I stared up at the freedom towers- still under construction, disappearing into a stormy sky. I did my best to take it all in, and to come to terms with what this horrible and cowardly act had meant to me.

While I  try to describe for you what I felt, I still find myself struggling for words.The skies were dark, and the rain poured, matching the swirling emotions within me. I was angry, I was sad, I was in awe. Goose bumps walked the surface of my skin as I looked over the list of names bordering the infinity pools. I felt so many different things- pride and anger, sadness and desire- all at once.

The Patch I left at Ground Zero

 I reached in my pocket, and pulled out the patch from my department. As I placed it on the memorial, I wondered if those guys knew the solidarity and admiration the rest of us feel for them. I stayed as long as the weather allowed, trying to memorize every detail.
On the subway ride back to the hotel, I realized I had no more answers than I started this day with. I was disappointed. What was supposed to answer all the questions, instead left me feeling even more disconcerted.

 I have thought about that visit many times since.
 I think if you were inclined to look, you would find a commonality in all of us who take up the yoke of "Firefighter". Burning in the heart of all of us there's a little "I want to save the World".  But saving the world is a dangerous mission, and sometimes a suicidal one. Sometimes, like on 9/11; wanting to save the world will kill you.


What could make someone surrender their own life for the sake of another?
Only Love.
In the scripture above, Christ has just made his triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The excitement of his recent resurrection of Lazarus has preceded him. Caiphas and the rest of the priesthood, worried that the Romans will come and " take away their place", seek to kill him. He could have walked away- in fact; the disciples urged him to do just that.
Love made him stay. You see, He wanted to save the world too, and at ANY cost.
 It's staggering to think that the Creator of all the universe values his love for humanity more than he valued his own "physical" life.
 Love killed him.
It killed Him, and in doing so gave me life.


On September 11th, 2001, Love killed 343 firefighters.
It killed those brave men and women, but there is no way to estimate how many lives they saved... and maybe it's better that way.

I'll leave you with this little bit of "Ragamuffin Theology".
 It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, LOVE is all that's required of man. To love GOD, and to love our neighbors on this "Communal Rock" as much as we love ourselves. Jesus himself said this concept is what the entire law is built upon. ( Mark 12:28-34) That same kind of Reckless, "ALL IN" Love.


 Yeah, maybe loving like that will kill you, but it's the only way you can be truly Alive.
   

  

  

"Leaders scrub tires."

"Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too." (Philippians‬ ‭2‬:‭3-4 NLT)



It's 11:04pm. Most firefighters pulling duty tonight; whether here at station 1, or in firehouses all over this great country are soundly asleep. I imagine their peaceful snores rumbling softly in bunk rooms, battling for supremacy with the modulations of oscillating fans. But me? I am DEFINITELY not asleep.

I am horizontal though, on the unforgiving concrete of a bay floor. You would think unforgiving concrete would at least have the decency to be cool to the touch, but this concrete didn't get the memo. I am sweating profusely, with a handful of tools and cleaners strewn around me, just in front of the Officer's side front tire of our rig, a 2010 Rosenbauer custom cab. I'm lying there because "I", a firefighter with 16 years experience, a good firefighter, a capable firefighter.... have made a truly humbling mistake. I lie here sweating; watching the long arms of the clock march resolutely past their appointed rounds, feverishly attempting to scrub the red and yellow curb paint from one colossal tire.

YUP. That's right... I did it- I ate up a curb in a truly spectacular fashion. With a rig full of guys, I bought, paid for, YAY- completely "OWNED" a section of curb coinciding with the location of our last call. To hear the guys tell it, the curb was equivalent in size to the GREAT WALL OF CHINA, and I was driving like a winged mammal from the nether regions. Anyone who understands firefighters at all knows the second my tire made contact with that curb, ( much more gently than they will ever acknowledge)  I was gonna pay.... (sigh) ...and pay I did.
For the remainder of their waking hours, the guys heckled and laughed ( I would NEVER do that to them, just by the way.) making fun of the guy who despite a wealth of knowledge and experience, had committed a rather egregious "Rookie" style mistake.

Later that night, after a phone call from someone who pretended to be Law Enforcement; calling to make a report on a severely damaged curb- the guys actually tried to help with the tire fiasco. While I sweated over a hot stove preparing dinner; they took the truck around back, washed her clean and scrubbed at the tire.It wasn't their responsibility, and I am truly grateful they did.When I went into the bay later that night, However; the tire was still less than "acceptable". I knew what I should do.

So now it's ODark30, and I'm scrubbing tire, humbled and annoyed with myself, angry that I could make this kind of mistake. I'm past this! Heck, I was past this YEARS ago. Newbies hit curbs and make silly mistakes, not guys like me. The words puddle hollowly between my arrogant ears, or maybe it's the sweat- at this point, I'm too tired to tell.

My mind follows the thread of negative thought deeper, and I actually question myself. " What am I doing here ?" I'm a forty year old firefighter. That slowly sinks in. "40?! FIREFIGHTER ?! WHY are you still a firefighter at 40? Why am I here? - lying on the floor, scrubbing my mistake off of a truck tire? The anger says I'm better than this, deserve better than this....and I wonder about my decisions in my career... whether they were smart decisions or desperate ones. I've consistently thought of myself as a capable firefighter, and a proven leader. Leader?  leaders don't make mistakes like this.... do they?  

I absolutely don't feel like a leader. 

But then again, what is leadership? Is it the guy who gets to make every decision, who calls the shots? Is it the guy who finishes first every race ? The guy who gets it right every single time?!
No, It's none of these things.

I encouraged myself with the fact that I was doing the right thing, refusing to turn over a truck that still needed detailing or fueling. I would stay up, and get this done because it's the kind of things "leaders" do.But the truth is the truck was my responsibility. Even if my "standard of care" is a little higher than someone else's might be, that alone doesn't make me a leader.

I hear a noise above me, and look up. My captain, a man whom I respect, and who's leadership I readily acknowledge, has walked out into the bay. " Whatcha Doin' Phil?" he chuckles. " Don't you know what time it is?"
I laugh, and then explain myself; why I couldn't let the truck sit at 78% fuel, and with paint on the tire. I'm kind of proud that he walked out here after finishing his duties, and has seen me scrubbing the tire. I hope it makes a statement about me. Maybe I am a leader after all.

We talk for a second, me lying on the hard, greasy concrete, and the captain standing above. When he turns away, I think he's leaving, and start back to work. It's not until he lies down on the other side of the tire, rag in one hand, cleaner in the other, that I realize what he's doing.
For a few minutes we work in silence, and I am understandably humbled again. After the conversation resumes, we talk shop; laugh at a few old stories. We break out the wax, and shine some of the chrome on the rig, chasing away her water spots.

When we finally finished working,  it was almost 2 am. I put up the cleaners, put the rags in the bin, and headed toward the bunk room. I was exhausted. As we parted ways in the hall, I look down at the captains hands- They are every bit as dirty as mine. I couldn't help thinking as I walked away, "I guess I was right after all....

... Leaders Do Scrub Tires."

"By humility and the fear of the LORD are riches, and honour, and life." - Proverbs 22:4

READY FOR ANYTHING

 It's summer again. I know this because the temperature outside is currently somewhere between "Good GOD, it's hot! - and "Surface of the Sun!". I also know this because the critters in the CSRA are out in force.                                                                                                      My station is located in an area that is bordered by "woods" behind the station, and is often frequented by unexpected and unwanted visitors. A few shifts ago, this little guy was crawling around the bay looking for an easy lunch. A friend and fellow firefighter almost stepped on him. Last year around this time, another firefighter at the same station came face to face with a scarlet king snake! Just FYI, The scarlet King snake is a very small, very harmless snake, that looks remarkably like a very small, very harmful snake, and all of this happened at 3 am, in the kitchen of the station!!                                                                                               The snake the king snake resembles is a coral snake, and is the most venomous snake in North America. In the parts of the southeast where you may encounter this snake, we teach the children a little rhyme: " Red touches yellow- kill a fellow. Red touches black- friend of Jack." Thinking about the encounter is amusing to me; but then, I've never had to remember that rhyme at 3am, groggy with sleep, when all I really wanted was a glass of water.                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Both situations remind me of a similar one in my past, where I fought a structure fire with what was most likely an equally surprised, and quite upset, spider inside my turnouts. The nasty little creature remained quiet and immobile until we arrived in the room of fire origin, and I opened the nozzle. Then springing from her hiding place in a perfectly coordinated attack, she proceeded to bite me at the junction of my shoulder blade and neck, ( the only place I couldn't reach with my gear on) at least three times. Adding to the confusion, my Officer began questioning me, quite loudly- and with an ample smattering of  scalding and unrepeatable adjectives and adverbs, as to my previous history of seizures and/or Tourette's.

The short version of the story ends with a dead spider of unknown species, and a firefighter wandering the station for the rest of the day wondering whether or not he was imagining being nauseous, and a myriad of other signs and symptoms.It's almost as funny as encountering a snake of indeterminate species on the floor of the kitchen at 3am.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       While all of us understand the importance of staging your gear in a manner which allows for quick deployment, I now find myself more aware of the manner in which I stage mine. Prior to the "spider incident of '03" as it's commonly known; ( at least by me) I would stage my gear on the floor of the bay, with boots and pants, jacket and helmet, outside of the pump. Not so now. Having fought one fire with the "volunteer spider" is enough for me. I'm very careful now as to the condition of my gear, and how it's staged. And you should be too.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 But I'm also reminded of this: We are all aware of the common dangers we face on scene. We all respond to the issues we think could affect us when we're in "firefighter" mode. But what about the little things around the station? What if my friend Rocky had stepped on that copperhead? What if the spider in my gear had been a "Black Widow" ? We can't control all of these things, but we can be more aware, and take steps to insure they are less likely to occur.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Even more profound is the way in which this impacts my observations on faith. I do my best to be on guard against the big things that could shipwreck my faith. But what about the little things that creep in unaware? Today I'm aware of the comparison between these stories and the little things that have crept into my heart...The way "little foxes" spoil the vine.( Song of Solomon 2:15)                                       How perspective changes, and the place where we feel most safe may be the place where we pick up an unwanted hitchhiker -- hurting us in our own house, or making us ineffective as we strive to help others.