On Saturday I spent a few hours at the Fire Expo here in San Diego. Organized by the Burn Institute each year, the Expo combines firefighting demonstrations with safety messages to educate kids about fire safety and raise money for the Burn Institute’s programs that benefit children with burn injuries.

A key part of the Expo is the Burn Run, where dozens of fire apparatus parade by the spectators with lights flashing and sirens wailing. This year, the Run was led by a steam-powered pumper pulled by three horses. Many other apparatus followed, some old (though none as old as the pumper), some new.

As I watched the impressive parade of rigs, it occurred to me that it’s traditions like this that separate the fire service from other occupations. Lately, we tend to be “counting beans” for just about everything. We’re told that fire departments must be able to justify every cost, every purchasing decision, not with “gut feelings” that such things are needed, but with hard data. Necessity has led us to this state, and in most cases it’s a good thing.

But it also fails to capture those aspects of our lives, and our occupations, that have no material value per se, but are nevertheless extremely important. As I watched the Burn Run, I was struck by the fact that fire personnel around me stood up from their seats, where we’d been enjoying a complimentary lunch, to watch. How many fire apparatus have they seen in their lives, and still they’re drawn in by the sight, compelled to stop what they’re doing to watch the rigs go by. Why? I like to think it’s because the sight of those rigs provoked a little bit of pride, a little bit of ownership in the firefighters who were watching.

There’s not a specific purpose to keeping an old fire apparatus around; there’s no cost-benefit ratio behind a parade of fire apparatus or some “payoff” that justifies the time fire service members spend washing, shining, repairing and driving reserve apparatus for a parade or a “burn run.” But pride and ownership can make the difference between a job and a calling. So to all those of you who have spent time driving in parades, laboring to get old apparatus working, restoring damaged rigs to their previous luster, thank you for your efforts. Here’s to preserving some traditions, even if they don’t pose a “return on investment.”

Shannon Pieper is managing editor for FireRescue magazine.