Today’s short story is about an EMS call we responded to a few years back. It was quite interesting since it turned out to be an unusually dangerous spider bite.

I’d love to hear feedback and suggestions to improve the stories. But I need to keep the stories truthful.

Over the many years of my career I’ve aspired to present a professional demeanor to those folks who worked for me and to the citizens we served. I made a point to act like a professional Firefighter, Fire Captain, Fire Chief, etc to those around me. I believe it inspired confidence for those in our organization and helped build trust with the public. I might have been a goofball in private, but outwardly I hoped that I appeared professional and competent. I think I was 99% successful in that regard.

From the earlier stories you’ve already heard how we don’t always deliver on my expressed value of professionalism but I tried desperately to never let the public see our goofy side. This story is about how my fire organization laid bare for all the public to see (hear) just how stupid we could be. What I love about this story is that even though I was about to literally explode while ripping out the tongues of some of my employees, after a few years passed they love to tease me about my reaction to their less than professional behavior. I hope you get a chuckle from this one.

When firefighters go north to Alaska to fight fires for the first time it’s a real adventure. Firefighting up there can be very different than in the lower 48 states. In the interior of Alaska, distances between roads can be gigantic. Logistical support comes via cargo nets from helicopters or cargo chutes by plane instead of trucks. Those are just two of many differences. On my first fire assignment to the interior we were sent to protect some scattered hunting cabins owned by native Alaskans as well as the oil pipeline from a wildfire started by lightning. Since we were protecting the pipeline we did have some road access. This story is about what happened one night while assigned to the fire. Keep in mind that although I might refer to my co-workers as knuckleheads (which you’ll soon see why), I loved these guys. They were like real brothers to me and I still love them and the memories from when we worked together.

As I was thinking about which story I wanted to tell next, two things occurred to me. My first thought was that some firefighters might believe I’m ridiculing them by telling these stories. I hope you all don’t think that. I have so much affection and respect for all the firefighting professionals out there. My next concern is that those of you who aren’t in the fire/rescue profession are going to think that we’re all a bunch of idiots. I hope that isn’t true either. In my 40 plus years of firefighting I’ve witnessed the most professional performance and hard work that you can imagine. It’s just that one way of dealing with the stress and impact of what we see is to act a tad goofy when that high level of performance isn’t necessary.

This story is one such occurrence. To the public seeing our fire engine and rescue trucks driving down the road returning from a call, they just see their local heroes. (I hate that term by the way. More about that at a later date). What they don’t know is what is going on behind the scenes. This story is just a quick glance behind the scenes.

When you’re a firefighter, everyday when you go to work you have no idea what is going to happen. That’s why we do it. It’s the perfect job for those of us with short attention spans. Was the medical call we were just on boring? No worries, in 20 minutes you could be helping someone in a car accident or rappelling down a cliff to rescue a fallen hiker. But often, the call could be something goofy. This story is one of the many goofy things that continues to make me laugh.

Here is the audio story of one small incident that occurred during my nearly 30 days in NYC following the attacks on Sept 11, 2001.