The Social Network & Community JUST for Firefighters
The nice guy
I'm a nice guy, right? I'm good to my longtime girlfriend, family and friends. I love them all, in fact, to the core of my being. My beliefs are that of honor and integrity. I'm also polite to and will make small talk with strangers. And, most importantly, I look after my fellow firefighters. Which brings me to the point, or story, I want to get across in this blog.
My crew and I had just finished extinguishing a structure fire in your anytown single family dwelling. It was the type of structure fire firefighters have wet dreams about. Heavy, dark, acrid smoke pushing hard from a second story window upon our arrival, no flames visible, this fire was deep seeded, burning good and going to be difficult to find and extinguish. One room and contents were well off, a second was beginning to go. It was beginning to get into the walls and make its way to the attic. We were getting cooked. There was a picture in the local paper the next day of myself at the rehab station, the look on my face, you could tell this fire kicked our butts. But, all in all, we made a decent stop. So, there we were, standing around in what was left of the kitchen with a few guys from our mutual aid companies, bs'ing and beginning overhaul, when I noticed there wasn't much room to move around. And in the one walkway that was available there was a piece of drywall about 4' long by 3' wide just dangling there, at a perfect 90º angle, hanging from the rest of the ceiling, right in the middle of the walkway. Every time someone tried to get through they'd crack their helmet off of it, mumbling some curse word under their breathe. I can recall smacking my helmet off of it twice through the whole incident. So, I figured I'd be the nice guy and rip it off, take it down and throw it out of the way. The drywall was already perfectly cracked, it was just hanging there by that flimsy paper, which I noticed was already ripped in several places. I thought to myself, one quick tug and problem solved, no more of my fellow firefighters smacking their helmets off of this thing. I'm a nice guy, right? Well, next thing I know, as I grab this little piece of drywall, I didn't even begin to pull yet, the whole 4' x 12' section comes crashing down, waterlogged insulation and all, burying my Assistant Chief! The first words out of my mouth are, "Holy $#!@!!! Are you alright!?!?!," as another firefighter and I dive to get it off of him. No response. Another guy from one of the mutual aid companies just says, "Idiot.," not even offering to help, as he walks outside. I ignored him. I ask again, "Are you alright!?!?!" Finally, an answer, a muffled, "Yeah, just get this #$!@ing thing off of me!" We dig and dig, he's out in what was probably less than a minute. I'm expecting him to come jumping up out of the mess tearing me a new one. To my surprise, he's laughing. Whew! I start apologizing, I probably said that I was sorry, and what a stupid move that was, at least fifteen times over the rest of the evening.
Moral of the story: Sometimes it pays to be the @$$hole.
My crew and I had just finished extinguishing a structure fire in your anytown single family dwelling. It was the type of structure fire firefighters have wet dreams about. Heavy, dark, acrid smoke pushing hard from a second story window upon our arrival, no flames visible, this fire was deep seeded, burning good and going to be difficult to find and extinguish. One room and contents were well off, a second was beginning to go. It was beginning to get into the walls and make its way to the attic. We were getting cooked. There was a picture in the local paper the next day of myself at the rehab station, the look on my face, you could tell this fire kicked our butts. But, all in all, we made a decent stop. So, there we were, standing around in what was left of the kitchen with a few guys from our mutual aid companies, bs'ing and beginning overhaul, when I noticed there wasn't much room to move around. And in the one walkway that was available there was a piece of drywall about 4' long by 3' wide just dangling there, at a perfect 90º angle, hanging from the rest of the ceiling, right in the middle of the walkway. Every time someone tried to get through they'd crack their helmet off of it, mumbling some curse word under their breathe. I can recall smacking my helmet off of it twice through the whole incident. So, I figured I'd be the nice guy and rip it off, take it down and throw it out of the way. The drywall was already perfectly cracked, it was just hanging there by that flimsy paper, which I noticed was already ripped in several places. I thought to myself, one quick tug and problem solved, no more of my fellow firefighters smacking their helmets off of this thing. I'm a nice guy, right? Well, next thing I know, as I grab this little piece of drywall, I didn't even begin to pull yet, the whole 4' x 12' section comes crashing down, waterlogged insulation and all, burying my Assistant Chief! The first words out of my mouth are, "Holy $#!@!!! Are you alright!?!?!," as another firefighter and I dive to get it off of him. No response. Another guy from one of the mutual aid companies just says, "Idiot.," not even offering to help, as he walks outside. I ignored him. I ask again, "Are you alright!?!?!" Finally, an answer, a muffled, "Yeah, just get this #$!@ing thing off of me!" We dig and dig, he's out in what was probably less than a minute. I'm expecting him to come jumping up out of the mess tearing me a new one. To my surprise, he's laughing. Whew! I start apologizing, I probably said that I was sorry, and what a stupid move that was, at least fifteen times over the rest of the evening.
Moral of the story: Sometimes it pays to be the @$$hole.
Add a Comment
© 2024 Created by Firefighter Nation WebChief.
Powered by
You need to be a member of My Firefighter Nation to add comments!
Join My Firefighter Nation