During 25 years of fighting fires and responding to calls, there are times when you know that was as close as you want to come to the edge. When you sense death tapping you on the shoulder and know that day you earned your pay.

My first was an ammonia leak at a rail yard. I was on the tailboard of Engine 7 when we were dispatched at 2100 hrs. When we got close, the smell almost knocked me and Tom off. S.J.F.D. had just set up a Haz Mat unit, and when we pulled up, I saw them setting up the green moon suits. A tank car loaded with pressurized ammonia had been bumped while offloading and the pipe had been sheared. The gas was screaming out and the sound was so loud you could not talk above it. I thought to myself, "I am so glad I do not have to suit-up to go in on that." We went to staging and three minutes later the call came in for us to report to the scene and get into the green suits to assist in shutting off the valve on top of the rail car. It was a scene from hell. Climbing to the top of the rail car, fighting the freezing gas, I could not see or hear. I went in twice and was relieved. The Captain in charge of Haz Mat went in again and again earning my undying respect. I was placed on a hose line away from the rail car and told to hold back the advancing cloud of gas. This was before we had restrictions on waterway pollution. I found myself alone and overcome by the gas, no MSA in those days for an outdoor incident. As I went down, unable to breathe, I saw the headline clearly, "Firefighter dies in gas incident."

Two breaths, nothing, then my lungs started to work again. I ended up in the hospital with other guys who were burned because the gas had gotten into their turnouts in bad places: no permanent damage to me or them. The Haz Mat Captain ended up as Chief of the department, a well-deserved promotion years later.

Two more stories to come...