Normally
ringing with the sharp sound of heavy boots, the Tower steps were much quieter
in sneakers. The only sounds we could hear were the huffing of tired lungs and
the occasional curse (as someone smashed their shin against the narrow metal
structure).
We ran the
tower for the first time today. We did an abbreviated PT regimen—which the four
of us found pretty easy, as we’re all in reasonably good shape—and then joined
the rest of 994 for a final Tower run. We wanted to do more, but I feel like
the four of us were just happy to be out and moving in the morning. The
sedentary lifestyle we had been afforded before today was growing old quickly,
and we had found ourselves stricken with cabin fever (I am, however, fairly
certain that we’ll be desiring the old do-nothing routine after we accelerate
our PT to the pace at which everyone else is).
Shortly after
we showered and dressed back into our uniforms, Sgt. Paulson ordered everyone
into the engine bay. We grabbed our recently-acquired bunker gear, and he
started to time all the “new guys” against the seasoned recruits. Unlike my
other three paramedic peers, I have no firefighting experience; thus, getting
all my gear on quickly is going to take a bit of getting used to. Fortunately,
I’m not so inept that I can’t do it in under a minute, which is the only
requirement. The damn tight coat sleeve keeps tripping me up, but I’m pulling a
respectable 45 seconds to don my gear.
As we began
removing our gear for what we anticipated was yet another round of racing the
clock, we failed to notice that Sgt. Paulson snuck out of the bay. He pulled
around to the front in one of the Academy’s fire engines, and we saw a maniacal
smile shine through the front window as the air brake hissed with an ungodly
noise.
“Three people!
Grab your gear, climb in… we’re going for a ride! When I stop this engine
again, get the hell out—and you better be
dressed!”
Three brave
souls stepped forward and climbed into the cab, nervously placing their
boots/pants and coats around the cab. Sgt. Paulson roared the engine and took
off around the building, all the while shouting to the recruits to “GO, GO,
GO!” When he lurched back into view, three very flustered and half-dressed
recruits tumbled out. Their uniform shoes, discarded every which way inside the
vehicle, clattered out behind them.
Donning gear on
firm ground is very different from doing so in a moving vehicle—especially if
you’ve never done it before! The small group gathered outside all took our
turns (read: attempts at) dressing in the engine; some succeeded, some didn’t.
I, personally, could put everything on except my gloves (the last item on your
to-do list). Considering my inexperience, I was pretty damn proud of that!
I feel it’s
worth noting that Sgt. Paulson certainly didn’t make it easy for us. The first
attempt we had was fairly straightforward—all you had to do was balance in a
vehicle that was making four smooth right turns and then slowing to a stop. By
the time we all rode for our last circuit, the Sergeant was slamming on the
brakes at random intervals, shouting back to us “Car just cut me off!” or
“Fucking pedestrians!” My last trip around, I didn’t even get my coat on
properly. I spent way too much time being thrown around the cab, contemplating
the choice between hanging on and not getting dressed, or trying to get dressed
and bashing my head off the interior.
Some of us
started putting our helmets on first.
Despite the
potential for brain injury, and the frustration of trying to get dressed under
fire; everyone who was outside that day had an absolute blast. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun driving
in circles!
The remainder
of the day was spent cleaning up, having the instructors tell us more stuff to
clean up, and just generally chatting with the staff. Interestingly enough, we
picked up a few fun facts that even the local-ites and hardcore history buffs
didn’t know:
· St. Elizabeth's
Hospital in SE Washington was the nation’s first psychiatric institution.
Laying claim to research by Carl Jung and habitation by Ezra Pound and John
Hinckley, the structure has a large brick wall on one side and an iron fence on
the other. Although hospital officials have claimed that it was used as a
deterrent for wounded soldiers from escaping (it was used during the Civil War,
when it officially changed its name from Government Hospital for the Insane to
St. Elizabeth’s in order to not worry the loved ones that the soldiers would
write home to), the best guess is as follows: since it was the first facility
of its kind, it had to hold both Caucasian and non-Caucasian patients.
Southeast D.C. was, at this time, a white-only farmland, and only the Caucasian
patients were allowed on the fence side—otherwise, the townfolk might have been
disturbed by the African-Americans, Hispanics, and other races.
· Washington, D.C. was originally outlined
as a perfect diamond (or square, depending on your point of view) when mapped
out; land was taken from both Maryland and Virginia to form what would be the
nation’s capital. Unfortunately, after the Civil War, Congress returned
Virginia’s land in 1846 and kept the remainder; this explains the
strangely-shaped diamond look that the city retains today.
· Every District resident knows that Pierre
L’Enfant designed the city, right? I mean, we have a Metro station named after
him! Turns out, L’Enfant was hired in March of 1791; his temperament towards
George Washington and his frequent disagreements with the District
Commissioners led to his dismissal in February of 1792. Shortly thereafter,
Andrew Ellicott (for whom Ellicott City, MD is named) revised and finished the
plans; it was his copy upon which the city was based. L’Enfant was not paid for
any of what he had done in that year, and spent the rest of his life in a
downward spiral. Upon his death, his possessions amounted to forty-six dollars.
· Constitution Avenue used to be a canal.
Before it was shut down for unsanitary conditions, The Washington City Canal
allowed passage of the Tiber Creek through the city. The original plan was to
use it for commercial purposes, but after sewage began backing up, it was
drained and filled with earth. A few buildings were placed on top of wooden
piers in the marshy ground, and when architects diverted the last of the
underground water in 1990-1998, some of the foundation of the IRS building
sank. What a pity.
· Adams Morgan is so named because of the
two segregated schools that used to be in the area: Thomas P. Morgan Elementary
School, and John Quincy Adams Elementary School.
· There was once a traffic circle at Florida
Ave and N. Capitol Street that doesn’t exist today. Built around 1900 and
demolished in 1947, Truxton Circle still lends its name to a small neighborhood (inhabitants of which are rebelling over the idea of rebuilding the accident- and
traffic-jam-prone circle).
I’m sure I’ll have
more fun facts (and pro-tips about getting around the city) as time progresses. There’s a lot to be learned about a tricky city like
Washington…
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