What is a firefighter?

He's the guy next door....
He's a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.
Yet he stands taller than most of us.
He's a fireman....
A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.
He's a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.
He's a gentle man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control.
He's responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again....
He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.


The Creation of the Firefighter
When the Lord was creating firefighters, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the specification on this person? Firefighters have to be able to go for hours, fighting fires or tending to a person that the usual everyday person would never touch, while putting in the back of their minds the circumstances. They have to be able to move at a second's notice and not think twice of what they are about to do, no matter what danger. They have to be in top physical condition at all times, running on half-eaten meals, and they must have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord, "it's the three pairs of eyes a firefighter has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded. "One pair to see through the fire and where they and their fellow firefighters should fight the fire next. Another pair here in the side of the head to see their fellow firefighters and keep them safe. And another pair of eyes in the front so that they can look for the victims caught in the fire who need their help."
"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't," said the Lord, "I already have a model that can carry a 250-pound man down a flight of stairs to safety from a burning building, and can feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck."
The angel circled the model of the firefighter very slowly, "Can it think?"
"You bet," said the Lord. "They can tell you the elements of a hundred fires and can recite procedures in their sleep that are needed to care for a person until they reach the hospital. And all the while they have to keep their wits about them. Firefighters also have phenomenal personal control. They can deal with a scene full of pain and hurt, coaxing a child's mother into letting go of the child so that they can care for the child in need. And still they rarely get the recognition for a job well done from anybody, other than from fellow firefighters."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the firefighter. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "Lord, it's a tear. What's the tear for?"
"It's a tear from bottled-up emotions for fallen comrades. A tear for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag. It's a tear for all the pain and suffering they have encountered. And it's a tear for their commitment to caring for and saving lives of their fellow man!"
"What a wonderful feature. Lord, you're a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber and said, "I didn't put it there."
Author Unknown

ODE TO OUR FIREMEN
By Frederic G. W. Fenn

All honor to the red-clad heroes; the boys who ran the machine
Over the highway to rescue, quick to danger's scene;
Where angry flames devour the poor man's earthly store,
Bidding to all a defiance, with its wild and sullen roar,

Tell me not of the gallants who wear the helmets bright,
Who boast of their deeds of slaughter in some degrading fight;
But sound aloud the praises, and give the victor-crown
To our noble-hearted Firemen, who fear not danger's frown.

They of many a conflict, with the haughty demon of flame,
With the rising sun of the morning, their gallant deeds proclaim.
The signal that strikes terror, to them is known full well;
Forth to do and dare they spring at the tap of the bell.

Some one's home is falling in the midnight solemn hour;
Now the heroic legion spring forth to show their power.
Listen to the rumble, as they clatter over the way;
There's hope in the sound as they speed on
In determined and gallant array.

Soon the fiery days will he over; the machine will be of the past,
And over the forms of our heroes the mantle of age will be cast,
And ere long they'll tread to the portals, and view the setting sun,
Then fall; arrayed in the glories of the gallant deeds they've done.

Grand honor! to such brave brothers; let the shout sweep to the sky.
Weave garlands round their memories as the ages swiftly fly,
Over each Fireman's hallowed grave write with honor's pen:
Here lieth one who delighted to aid his fellow men.

-- Printed in The National Fireman's Journal February 9, 1878.


A firefighter poem

HE STARES IN THE FACE OF DEATH
WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT
TO SAVE THAT ONE SPECIAL LIFE
THAT HE SO BRAVELY SOUGHT
HE HAS WALKED AS CLOSE TO
"HELL ON EARTH"
AS ANY MAN COULD DO
AND HE'S SO PROUD OF THE JOB HE DID
FOR PEOPLE HE NEVER KNEW
HE PUTS HIS LIFE ON THE LINE
EVERYTIME DUTY CALLS
ALWAYS DOING WHAT NEEDS TO DONE
WITHOUT EVEN A PAUSE
HE IS A FIREMAN
WITH OVERWHELMING PRIDE
NEVER AFRAID TO TAKE A CHANCE
WHEN SAVING SOMEONES LIFE
OFTEN HE SAYS
"IT'S MY JOB"
BUT WE REALLY KNOW
THAT HE IS VERY SPECIAL
AND ALWAYS READY TO GO
SO WHEN YOU HEAR THE SIRENS WAIL
OR SEE THE FLASHING LIGHTS
STAND ASIDE AND LOOK WITH PRIDE
HE'S GOING TO SAVE A LIFE.


A firefighters Pledge

I promise concern for others.
A willingness to help all those in need.
I promise courage - courage to face an conquer my fears.
Courage to share and endure the ordeal of those who need me.
I promise strength - strength of heart to bear whatever burdens
might be placed upon me.
Strength of body to deliver to safety all those placed within my care.
I promise the wisdom to lead, the compassion to comfort,
and the love to serve unselfishly whenever I am called

Author unknow


Fallen
Rest now my fallen brother
Lay soft your suffering back
Rest well and forever
Your memory shall not lack
Rest your tired hands
Wipe clean your weary brow
Rest with St. Florian
Your spirit now endowed
Rest here your breaking heart
We know you gave your all
Rest easy, you’ve done your part
You’ve answered your last call
Rest knowing that in god we sought
Oh lord, watch over another who just fell
Rest assured your troubled thought
As we ring the final bell.


My brother has fallen

My brother has fallen; no I don't know his name
Have not the same parents still family all the same
He lives in this town I live in another
It doesn't really matter cause this man is my brother

My brother I call him yet I've never seen his face
I have brothers and sisters all over the place
You see I am a firefighter and our families are one
A tradition for years past from father to son

Around the world a brotherhood of unity
A closeness a bond most people don't see
I'll watch his back she'll watch mine
You go I go time after time

His family's my family her family theirs
Were part of one family where everyone cares
I'll look after your kids please look in on my wife
Should that day finally come when I laid down my life
We dedicate our lives helping our fellow man
Living day after day doing all that we can
Wherever we're needed whether night time or day
To save the life of another well step in harms way

My brother has fallen doing what he loved best
And among the honoured he now stands with the rest
For a mile in dress uniform here everyone stands
For my brother has fallen god into your hands


A breed of their own.



Firefighters they are a breed of their own. They work long days and sleep short nights. They go for hours sometimes days on end with only a precious little bit of sleep.

Yet they do their job well and voluntarily.

A firefighter can quit at any time, no one is there looking over our shoulder telling us we can’t quit, but we don’t quit in spite of that. And when you ask one of us why, there is a pause and then an “I don’t really know” or, “I can’t really put my finger on it”. The only way I can describe it is a feeling deep in your gut that you can’t ignore, something there telling you that this is what you are here to do.

A group may enter a department for no reason at all, just looking for something to do, but of that group one or two will get their first taste of fire and realize that this is in their heart, and they will do it until they are physically unable to.

Then there are those who grew up with firefighter dads and found something magical about the way he would go off Tuesday and come back Friday with a tired look on his face but with a certain gleam of pride in his eye that told you he loved what he was doing. Or when he’d go off in the middle of the night at the sound of his pager and come back later that day with that same gleam in his eye. Despite utter exhaustion.

Some say that firemen are just thrill-seekers, looking for a quick rush. Others, those who have experienced them first hand say they are warriors. They come at a moments notice and seem to stare down at the fire; they trample on the dance floor of the devil wearing the boots of god.

These reasons are all merely speculations, nobody will ever know what makes a fireman a fireman, but one thing is for sure, the men who don’t abuse the power respect others, and love the job for what it is. They are firemen night and day.