Learning Not to fly
Shorts are on backwards. But at least I have shoes. Pager goes off at four something AM and the day alarmingly begins. It is (ever glorious) early Fall in the Midwest. The perfect time of year, with shorts and a light jacket the ideal garb. The day will end in Seaside twenty-threeish hours later; the place where nine out of ten days have perfect, light jacket weather.
Back in Wisconsin, each night ends with laying out clothes in sequence to put on while blearily on the way out the door. The outer layers vary seasonally, but the last thing in the sequence is always the same; a Snickers bar. At a three something AM Lodi fire last year I learned showing up pre-breakfast ain’t great. Not fun being hungry while putting the wet stuff on the red stuff.
Here's what I know for sure. If there is ever a fire on my street in the early morning in the years ahead when I am no longer a firefighter, I’m gonna crank up the stove and start making pancakes and sausage. Because a neighborhood bystander at a pre-dawn fire offering up pancakes and sausage would be awesome. Might have to learn how to make coffee …
Anyway, time is THE metric in emergency response, so showing up at your fire station locker with backward shorts or no shoes is inconsequential to the task. Just get there quickly, ready to go. But not too quickly.
Had my second coaching moment about speed (ing) a few weeks back, and have adjusted my response sequence accordingly. The two speeding complaints had a common prompt; a fire alarm at a Poynette factory. Everybody’s call is important, and promptness is a virtue. But there’s four types of calls that get everyone’s attention, right NOW. Fire calls at a school. Fire calls at a senior living facility. Fire calls at a factory. Potential drownings. Every second matters to someone, but any of those four are life vs. the unmerciful clock. Running and speeding? Happens.
But what Captain Brandon pointed out is me speeding to the station results in me waiting at the station for other firefighters to arrive before we head out. Smart guy, Captain Brandon. He’ll make a fine Chief someday (Chief Cam told me the same thing).
So, the adjustment I made is to not look at the screen on my phone which tells me what type of call it is. From either work or home, I just hit the I am responding button on the app, jump in/on the closest vehicle and start heading to the station. I play the audio dispatch on the way while losing my belt and shirt buttons during the workday or being a Snickers commercial prior to sunrise. Maybe ten extra seconds without the DirtFish Rally School skills on display, but still less than forty seconds from work or sixty seconds from home.
The slight kink in the new system is eating the pre-breakfast Snickers begins before the audio page gets listened to while underway. This morning’s dispatch was a non-emergency lift assist. Which did not require 215 pre-dawn calories. Oh well, I’ll burn that off with 23 waking hours today or throwing some extra ladders when I get to Seaside.
Nobody joins the fire department for lift assists. I am just guessing at this, but I suppose somebody might wake up, look at their phone and just take a pass on the call. Could happen. Probably does. Lift assist, non-emergency, multiple guys already on the way … or sleep? That’s a fair question.
My answer is this. There is no bit of helping someone that is worth avoiding, if you have the ability to help. Everyone’s ability to help is both going to be different and - importantly - is going to vary with whatever is going on in their life at the moment. I have not yet missed a call while in Poynette, but can imagine I might if the right (wrong?) set of circumstances were happening at the time the pager went off.
It will happen, someday. And my firefighting brothers and sisters will cover my absence more than ably. I’m a small part of an excellent team, and just want to do my part, for as long as I can do a part.
In the pantheon of a career of public service, helping someone up off the floor is going to be forgotten, within days. But it will not be forgotten by the person you helped, or their family. People forget facts. But they remember - forever - how they were treated.
I have long argued that kindness matters most. It has been the end point of the 53 Things I’ve Learned list, since the list first started at 50 things. But, what I learned this morning might be the 54th Thing. I did not join the department for lift assists. I joined because it looked like (and is) an adventure club. Pager goes off. Let’s go do some difficult and dangerous stuff. Big huge enormous fun, for the public good.
But the 54th Thing is, fire departments are not just adventure clubs. They are also kindness delivery consortiums. A group of folks truly happy to help. Call anytime.
If I show up walking a little funny because it was zero dark thirty when I put my shorts on and they ended up backwards, please be kind and don't say anything.
