TUCKER
The crackling voice of the dispatcher sounds over the speakers, alerting our engine of a small structure fire on the west side of town. The energy flowing through the house when we get a call is almost palpable. There’s an intensity that moves through my veins when I know I’m about to be in front of something as powerful as fire.
There’s an undercurrent of adrenaline, but because of your training, you feel invincible instead of scared. It’s addicting and exhausting and incredibly important to know your personal limits of how much you can handle.
As a captain, it’s my job to ensure my team is falling into those safe boundaries, and if they aren’t, I have to pull them out to ensure they stay healthy and keep from making a mistake. It’s also why so many people don’t make it through the application process or training.
I watch my guys load into the engine with military precision, and we take off from the house. Daniel, our driver engineer, navigates the large engine through our small town with ease. The sounds of the sirens are muffled in the cab, and the dispatcher calls over the radio, “Dispatcher to Engine 15.”
“This is Engine 15, go ahead,” I reply.
“Fire has spread to the house, Truck 20 is assisting in a motor vehicle accident. Paid on-call list has been activated.”
“Copy that.”
We pull up to the house, seeing the fire seems contained to the back side of the property. Hopefully, we can keep it that way.
We jump out from the truck and the guys get busy setting up our equipment. I walk over to the man standing on the sidewalk, hoping he’s the person I need.
“Are you the homeowner?” I ask him when I get close.
“Yes, can you save it? Is it salvageable? I didn’t know there was gas on the floor of the shed, and when I accidentally dropped my cigarette, it just ignited!”
“Hey, man, take a deep breath,” I say, trying to get him to calm down before he has a full-blown panic attack. The shock of an event like this can make people lose their minds, and while it’s understandable, it can be detrimental to our efforts.
I once had a man run back into his burning house because he thought he could save it himself. We ended up having to rescue him and treat him for smoke inhalation. I took a training course on interacting with people during traumatic events after that call. It’s helped on many occasions.
The homeowner takes a deep breath and visibly relaxes.
“Is there anyone else inside?” I ask.
“No, I’m the only one who lives here.”
“Any pets?”
“No, it’s just me.”
“Okay, I’m going to have you stand back over here with our paramedics. They’re going to make sure you don’t have any injuries, and then the police officers will get your statement, okay?
The man just nods his head, and I lead him over to our medics who are trained in working with panic attacks. They’ll also make sure he doesn’t have any burns or lung damage. When people are in stressful situations, they don’t always realize they’ve been hurt.
I walk back over to where my guys have already started putting out the fire on the house and shed. They’ve got the flames on the shed down so it won’t continue spreading and are now focusing on the house. I see a couple of our paid on-call guys pull up to the scene and jump out of their cars.
Kyle, our youngest on-call guy, has half his gear on already. He’s only twenty-three and wants to be hired full-time. He lacked the experience the first time he applied, so I suggested he get on the paid on-call list in the meantime.
Aaron is my age and a writer but worked as a firefighter in Charleston. He told me he’d had enough of the full-time gig but wasn’t able to stay away from the job forever, so the on-call position is perfect for him.
“Hey, guys. We’ve got the fire handled at this point. It spread some but didn’t catch anything except the main house. We don’t need the extra hands now.”
“No worries,” Aaron says with a shrug. Kyle looks disappointed and I can’t say I blame him. When the only way you get to live your dream is when you’re randomly called, it can be disappointing when you’re not needed.
Aaron, Kyle, and I hang off to the side for the next couple of hours as the guys get a handle on the fire.
Charlie, who’s our lone female firefighter, comes over and lets me know they’ve got everything wrapped up and are good to start cleaning up.
She keeps her dark hair tied back into a slick bun, and I will never understand how it stays perfect throughout any call we answer. It’s a running joke in the house that if her bun is ruffled then you should stay away from her.
The guys start loading the truck, and I say goodbye to Aaron and Kyle. Daniel gets us back to the house quickly, despite the town’s narrow streets. He says it’s like driving a regular car, but he also had to go through rigorous training to become certified as a driving engineer, so his viewpoint might be a bit skewed.