Most people now have never seen a Roledex. It was a device used on a desk to store phone numbers and business cards. It spun on an axis. I have one in my head as do most firefighters and cops. We store pictures of scenes we have seen, usually first impressions that stick with you. They are brought back by a related action or incident and you see the scene from 20 or 30 years ago in a color picture in your mind.

I do not know if I am blessed or cursed by my recall. There are times I cannot remember my last dog's name but my Roledex of pictures are always there. Now they call it P.T.S.D. and have critical incident stress debriefings to help deal with some of the stuff we deal with but in the old days you just stuffed it.

We used dark humor to help. While working an overtime shift at a large station we had a call to a suicide during our dinner. One of the guy's wife had joined us so we left her at the table and went on the call. It was a hanging in the local park. When we returned she asked what happened and her husband said, "Nothing much, the guy was just hanging around." She was shocked we could take it so lightly and then continue with our meal. We did not take it lightly, we took it the only way we could and continue to function.

My defining moment came one Thanksgiving very early in my career. We responded to a gay bathhouse. It had an area divided into small doored-off cubicles. In one, a guy had spent most of the night with a can of Crisco, a large dildo, and some amil nitrate (a favorite sex drug of the time called poppers). He popped the popper under his nose for a final rush that stopped his heart. This was the picture I have in my Roledex taken when I opened the door. What got me was I went back to the station and finished my turkey dinner.

I am glad the people now have on call psychological help when needed and maybe their Roledexes won't be as full as mine when they retire.