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Acclimation.

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"Ow, shit! Sorry, man."


In the dim red light in the back of the cab, I could barely make out the "ah, it's okay" shrug that the lineman gave me. I mean, there's usually only two people being tossed around in the back of the engine, not three—and the sharp left turn we took a second ago on the way to a box alarm threw me against the door, with only Rocky to break my fall. Regroup, keep going. After all, we had a report of smoke coming from under the front door of the house. It might be a good first call for me, right?

Wrong. It was like my own personal comedy of errors. Not only was my brain a little fuzzy (it was around three in the morning, and I'm still growing accustomed to functioning in the early hours), but I kept dropping my stuff everywhere. Just about the time that I find a secure place to put my helmet, my SCBA starts falling over. Okay, got that, now if I can just—dammit, there goes my helmet again! Wait… where the hell did my hood go?!

(Can you tell I've never done this before?)

By some sort of miracle, I managed to get all my gear on before we reached the address. At the beginning of the shift, my officer told me to stick with the lineman; thus, when he pulled the crosslay, I followed behind him and flaked out the line.

At least, that was the plan. 

You see, we had to cross a few front yards and some sidewalks to get to the door, and the terrain can be sort of uneven…

I fell down. Face-first, of course; apparently it looked bad enough that one of the bystanders, a kid of about fourteen, piped up:

"Aw, damn, man. You okay? That looked like it hurt."

I mumbled a lame response as I adjusted my helmet, and scrambled to my feet. I hurried to catch up to my crew, desperately hoping I wouldn't find "OMG DC FIREMAN FALLS DOWN ON WAY TO FIRE LOL STUPID ROOKIE" on YouTube the next day. 

As it turns out, the occupants of the house had burned some food in the kitchen, and their neighbors saw the smoke from next door. They, in turn, called 911, who dispatched us, and then I heroically saved the day by smearing dirt all over the front of my coat. 

But hey, it's not all bad. I like to think of it like that old fishing joke: the worst day in the company is better than the best day at the Academy.

—————

There's a lot that I'm learning out in the street that I was never taught at the Academy. I fully expected that, but it's fascinating to see the practical side of things, instead of the "textbook" knowledge—and the only way to learn something like that is to do it a million times. 

My primary goal during this phase is to learn how to be a paramedic on an engine company. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to start on my probationary fire studies right now, because my only focus is on learning how to integrate my EMS capabilities with the fire service. I have to keep reminding myself that 15 isn't my permanent assignment, because it's a damned good house and I'm enjoying myself immensely.

That being said, I'm soaking up every bit of knowledge I can. I've found that there's so much you can learn just by being around the guys from 15 and Rescue 3; you just have to know when to listen. 

This is going to take a lot of getting used to, both mentally and physically; but I'm loving every minute of it, and I look forward to where this journey will take me. 


Posted by on June 24, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Firefighter Training, Firehouse Life

Evaluation.

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Great news for the medics who were formerly stuck in limbo: we've been approved to stay on shift work, so we're being assigned temporary spots on engines until we complete all of our evaluations. We need a certain number of calls (and the accompanying paperwork) to prove that we know what we're doing as paramedics, and then we'll take the next step from there.


So until further notice, I'm working at 15 Engine in Anacostia. The crew is a great group of guys, and we seem to be getting along pretty well; I'm sure to have some interesting stories within the next few weeks.

For now, I have a home… and that's wonderful to hear. 

24 hours on, 72 hours off. Could I have a better schedule? I submit that I cannot.

Posted by on June 19, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Firehouse Life

Breaking: Shooting at 14th/Irving, NW.

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Joe McNally, a famous National Geographic photographer, once said:

"If you want to be a better photographer, stand in front of more interesting stuff."

As opposed to standing, sometimes an opportunity comes along that's just so well-placed in front of you that you can't help but rocket out the door, grabbing your camera and an extra lens on the way out. 


The dispatch: WASHINGTON, DC (DC) *SHOOTING* 14TH X IRVING STS NW. 2 SHOT. SHELL CASINGS IN FRONT OF 5 GUYS. MPD 3RD DIST.

The plan: No, don't go street level… go up! (The street was already blocked off, and I wouldn't be able to see anything through the crowds gathered behind the yellow tape. Time to go bird's-eye view with it!)

All I can say is… thank God for telephoto lenses.

EDIT: The first two images were removed in order to avoid any legal complications stemming from disseminating images of the victims. The captions remain for informational purposes. Yes, I'm aware it loses the impact; but I don't need to get in trouble for a couple of pixels.
Victim 1 was shot six times in the lower extremities, and 
transported via Medic 12 to Washington Hospital Center.


Victim 2 was apparently grazed by a bullet near the Metro entrance, 
and transported to an unknown hospital via Medic 24.

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Oh, Columbia Heights… what would I do without you?
Posted by on June 18, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Fire Department Current Affairs, Fire Photography, Fires/Incidents

A week in the street.

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After a long week, we received some great news on Friday. 

Starting tomorrow, we paramedics are being sent to the street to ride on an engine company with a FF/PM for a total of forty hours. We'll be on varying schedules; for instance, I'm working one 16-hour shift and one 24-hour shift. Ideally, we'd be able to get some evaluations completed, but I suspect it's more of an introduction to our role as providers.

We'll be spread out all over the city, and so I'm sure everyone will regroup next week with some good stories about our short stint of being in the companies. Although we're still waiting for permanent assignments, we're definitely making progress in the right direction.
Posted by on June 14, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Fire Academy, Firefighter Training

Standing by.

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(AP) WASHINGTON – An 88-year-old gunman with a violent and virulently anti-Semitic past opened fire with a rifle inside the crowded U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum on Wednesday, fatally wounding a security guard before being shot himself by other officers, authorities said.

Washington Police Chief Cathy Lanier said the gunman was "engaged by security guards immediately after entering the door" with a rifle. "The second he stepped into the building he began firing."

Law enforcement officials said James W. von Brunn, a white supremacist, was under investigation in the shooting and that his car was found near the museum and tested for explosives. The weapon was a .22-caliber rifle, they added. They spoke on condition of anonymity, saying they were not authorized to discuss the investigation just beginning.

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"What in the hell…?"

For what seemed like the hundredth time, an MPD cruiser went screaming past our classroom window, making as much racket as possible with the siren. 

"So, is there something going on that we should know about?" we wondered out loud. 

As if on cue, Sgt. Paulson threw open the door and announced that because of what had just happened at the Holocaust Museum, the Department was now on a special alert in which nobody who is currently on duty can leave their respective posts (at this time, very little was known about the situation or the perpetrator, and the ever-present possibility of "terrorist incident" loomed eerily overhead). 

He left in a rush, leaving us with more questions than answers.

Oh, well—stuck here again. We turned back to our cardiac rhythm workbooks, the news of the shooting quickly fading from our minds. Suddenly, Sgt. Woodward's voice echoed down the hallway, his quick-stepping self not far behind.

"Three-five-nine! Three-sixty! Go home. All the medics in three-five-eight, get your gear and bring it to the apparatus bay."

We looked at one another, momentarily surprised.

"Engine 34, Engine 35, and Truck 41 are to be placed in service, stand
ing by for the city."

—————

Sure, there were enough instructors and officers at the Training Academy today to fill three pieces of apparatus with seasoned firefighters. But what in the hell did they want with us newbies, and where were they planning on stuffing eight probationers with full gear? 

It was a neat idea, but I had the same thought as when I saw the latest Star Trek movie, and Kirk is appointed Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise at the end of the movie:

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"Uh… wasn't he a cadet in Starfleet Academy, like, a week ago?"

Nevertheless, we ran around for about twenty minutes, scraping together SCBAs, axes, saws, radios, and anything else that would bring our three beloved pieces up to par for a box alarm. PAT tags clipped onto the UDCs, gear laid out beside our respective apparatus, and radios holstered, we were ready to go—I won't even begin to describe how crazy the staffing was on each piece. 

And then… we waited. Always listening to the murmurs from the dispatch channel, we hoped in vain for the call that would never come. Nevertheless, I thought it was cool that we were officially in service, so I grabbed a quick picture in the downtime. This was the first time since I've been at the Academy that E-34, E-35, and T-41 have been ready to respond to an actual box alarm, if need be. 

Hours passed. Four grilled cheese sandwiches and hundreds of bullshit conversations later, we were finally allowed pack up and go home; the alert was lifted, and the Training Academy staff was freed. 

—————

What's that, you say? It's a crap story, because nothing really happened? Well, you're right. However, I relay it simply to drive home the point that this job is completely unpredictable, and any given day might bring something really intense. It's the uncertainty that draws me to the profession, you see—there's not a single day that's the same as any other. 

Regardless of what happens, the paramedics of 358 will continue our time at the Academy, refreshing ourselves on EMS things so that we can eventually be mentored out in the street. We've got a few weeks to go, for sure—but that's certainly no reason why we can't have any fun. 

Most-excellent-yet-unrealistic daydream #2,961: Let's keep the engines and the truck staffed by Academy personnel every day, and we'll do our Fire & EMS mentoring the old-school way.


Image source: http://www.startrekmovie.com

Posted by on June 10, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Fire Academy, Fire Department Current Affairs, Fire Photography, Firefighter Training, Firehouse Life, Fires/Incidents

Graduation.

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Nervous energy filled the hallway as our Sergeant addressed us as recruits for one of the last times. Shortly after, we would be driving our vehicles to the facility in Northwest DC where we would officially become probationary firefighters.


The ceremony itself was in the large auditorium of the Armed Forces Retirement Home. Ushered into the lounge next door while family members filed in, all the recruits milled around aimlessly in dress uniforms as we awaited the ceremony.

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With a fanfare of bagpipes and all the pomp and circumstance we could muster, our recruit class marched in and took our seats, turning crisply on our heels as we had done for so many weeks on the drill yard pavement.

It was a whirlwind of speeches, plaques, gifts, medals, and class videos—and suddenly, it was over. Everyone had received their stack of certificates, shook every possible permutation of officers' hands, and walked triumphantly across the stage.

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—————

Perhaps the most moving moment came when we were asked to stand and perform an about-face towards all the friends and loved ones who had supported us through so many mentally grueling and physically trying weeks. 

"Present… arms!"

Thirty-five arms snapped off a crisp salute, our bodies ramrod-straight and eerily still. It may not have said everything, but the reverent silence of that moment spoke volumes about the gratitude and appreciation that we shared for all those around us.

"Order… arms!"

With a quick swish of polyester and the muffled click of a well-executed about-face, we sat down and continued with our ceremony.

—————

Despite all the frustrating bullshit, the needless bravado, the exhausting PT, and the (sometimes agonizing) lectures, I wouldn't trade a second of my time with Recruit Class No. 358 for all the money in the world. Yes, we got on each others' nerves nearly every single day; but we built friendships and brotherhood by going through what can only be classified as a mostly-miserable yet highly rewarding experience. We traveled through hell (for what certainly felt like an eternity), but we at least had a guiding light at the end of it that we reached on Friday, June 5th, 2009. 

Congratulations to each and every member of Recruit Training Class No. 358. Our time together will be missed (some of you more than others), but you'll certainly never be forgotten. The unique personalities that comprised the class had the ability to both drive everyone insane and bring us closer together at the same time—and for that I thank you.

Proudly,
/RL

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Special thanks to: The DCFD Pipes and Drums / Emerald Society, The Armed Forces Retirement Home, our keynote speaker Dr. Burton Clarke of the National Fire Academy, Chief Rubin, Mayor Fenty, and all the instructors and officers who were pr
esent on the stage to welcome us into our careers with The Washington, D.C. Fire & EMS Department. We thank you with all our heart, and look forward to seeing you around the streets of our great city!

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Additionally, these photos (and many others, particularly if you know one of the class members) are available at http://raisingladders.smugmug.com. It's a shameless plug, I know; but all proceeds benefit the Firefighters' Burn Foundation, so help out! Keep checking for updates, because I'll be adding more photos AND I'll be lowering the prices. It is for charity, after all. 
Posted by on June 8, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Fire Academy, Fire Photography, Firefighter Training

The final burn.

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Uh… either we're extremely dehydrated and exhausted, or the headless fireman from the Sleepy Hollow Fire Department is haunting the burn building. Either way, it's probably time for us to go.

—————

"I haven't seen you run the line yet. Switch with him."

Sergeant Paulson turned abruptly as he realized that I was part of the next group to go into the burn building with him. Based on the number of instructors on any given day, each recruit group usually goes into their evolutions with the same one or two instructors. The groups, however, had been switched up today… and so this was the first time Sgt. Paulson was there to babysit us. 

I pulled the crosslay onto my shoulder, shrugging apologetically towards the guy who was supposed to pull the line. As we approached the doorway, we took a spray from above; the previous engine company was flowing water, and a quick torrent of near-boiling dirty water washed over us.

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"Shit. Ah, whatever, I needed to clean my gear anyways." 

We were able to squeeze a quick laugh in before the officer running the command board outside shouted at us to go.

Careening through the doorway, three recruits furiously threw hose all over the entry room in a somewhat organized layout pattern before kneeling to mask up. 

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Just as I clicked my regulator in and reached down to grab the nozzle tucked securely under my knee ("Don't you ever let go of that damn thing!"), I heard a hissing grow louder behind me.  I pulled the bail back just a hair, just enough to let the air out; sure enough, a furious spit of water came roaring out seconds later. 

"Let's go!"

Sergeant Paulson went charging up the stairs, with two of us only steps behind him. The third man stayed briefly at the landing, frantically feeding hose around the corner so that we had enough to make entry and hit the fire.

As soon as my foot hit the top step, I dropped to a three-point crawling position and hugged the nozzle to my chest. With what looked like jet-black ink sloshing around the floor, I made my way to the corner and turned to wait for the rest of my crew. Fortunately (and not particularly suprisingly, either—I had one hell of a great crew today), they had all made it inside the room with me. My attention turned quickly back to the fire, and a nod from the Sergeant was all it took.

Two quick circles of water blasted out in front of me, and the roaring red turned to a dull orange as steam began to mask the pile of pallets. 

There were no windows in the room—nor were we hydraulically venting out a window—so the steam banked down on top of us and brought us to a slightly more hunkered-down position. 

"Back it out!"

Copy that, sir. My calves were feeling particularly toasty as I sat on the floor (I wore shorts under my bunker gear today), and none of us could see shit. Futilely wiping my mask with my glove in an attempt to clear the moisture from the surface, I dragged the nozzle towards what I felt was the last known position of the second man in. Not thirty seconds later, we were dragging hose out and walking down the stairs for the last time. 

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Only until we hit the bright light and fresh air of the outside world did we realize that we were really and truly done with our live burns.

We were whipped. All these days had thoroughly exhausted every recruit, as well as all the instructors. They're some hard-asses, there's no doubt about it; but even the best need a break every once in a while. 

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It was a fantastic couple of weeks; it's something I've never even come close to experiencing before, and I wouldn't trade any of my memories or any of these pictures for all the money in the world. 

—————

One more day of housekeeping stuff at the Academy before graduation; and then we are officially no longer recruits. It's an inspiring thought, being this close to graduation; this morning, we were beat to hell, half-asleep, and trading Advil around like cigarettes in prison. However, the second one of the recruits called us together and started screaming some encouragement, we found the energy to bring it together and all bellow in proud unison.

Another lesson I've learned: when you feel like shit, and you're whipped, and you think you just can't go on any further—that's when it's time to gather strength from your brothers, put your man gloves on, and do your fucking job. 

Dig in, baby; it's been a long ride, and we're only just starting. 

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Feeling nostalgic already,
/RL

A special thanks to N.D., who kindly offered to 
do my dirty work today and was in a great position 
to take the majority of the pictures you see here.



Posted by on June 3, 2009 • Filed under: DC Fire, DCFD, DCFEMS, Fire Academy, Fire Photography, Firefighter Training