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Andy Fredericks Training Days – Updated!

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The first day of the Andy Fredericks Training Days was a great success! The largest group ever to attend the annual three-day conference arrived at the communal breakfast buzzing with energy and brotherhood despite the early hour. As promised, the events kicked off right around 8am with some very touching opening remarks from several firefighters who knew Andy personally. From his hilarious antics around the firehouse, to his steadfast dedication to the job, the crowd was reminded of the sort of fellow he was—especially, why he would have been overjoyed to see everyone here learning these topics he held so dear. "Andy in a nutshell" was presented to us via a speech he made at FDIC in 2000, revealing his traditional, bread-and-butter approach to firefighting that he sought to inspire in everyone he met.

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Carrying a rich history of America's earliest presidents and great thinkers, the George Washington Masonic Memorial in Alexandria, VA, provided a gorgeous venue for the event. Groundbreaking for this memorial took place in 1922—stoneworkers completed the structure ten years later, undeterred by the Great Depression.

 

Presenting to the largest group ever to attend the event, organizers and speakers were happy to see so many hands go up when the crowd was asked who among them is a "first timer."

 

The opening presentation was provided by Robert Morris, the current Captain of FDNY's Rescue Company 1 (located in midtown Manhattan). A true veteran, and lifelong student of the fire service, Captain Morris has been one of New York's Bravest for over thirty years.

 

All firefighters are taught that a Halligan bar is one of the most useful and versatile tools in the fire service; however, a morning spent listening to an instructor with decades of first-hand experience provides a new respect for a tool that many new firefighters are never taught to use properly.

"When I started in the fire department, we didn't have fancy hydraulic tools or these new gadgets. All we had was an axe and a halligan bar, so we were taught how to make it work. When the Rabbit Tool [a hydraulic forcible entry tool] showed up, it pushed forcible entry training back by, I don't know, ten years. Guys were coming on with no knowledge of how to use the irons, because they thought they didn't need to."

 

As Captain Morris clearly shows, even verbally teaching forcible entry tactics is not a stationary activity.

 

Organizers and instructors stand amid a pile of goodies while selecting the winning raffle tickets. Prizes included a collection of Andy's writings, coffee mugs, and even a brand-new forcible entry tool for one lucky attendee.

 

Alexandria's fire safety mascot dog slides across the stage, much to the crowd's enjoyment. [Note: I felt it only appropriate to capture this hilarious, action-packed moment in the same style that won me the promotional poster contest. Thanks again! /RL]

 

FDNY Battalion Chief Thomas Dunne presents a new way to work your brain on a fireground; "Think Like an Incident Commander" aimed to keep everyone involved in an incident looking at the same big picture on the very same page.

 

Another multi-decade veteran of the FDNY, Batt. Chief Dunne has an easygoing manner that lends itself well to teaching. Practicing what he preaches, some of his first words to the crowd were about a person's presence and demeanor.

"The way you carry yourself, the way you act, the way you communicate, and the way you project yourself, are all going to affect everyone else. In life, in a fire… whatever you're doing, most of us have to take it down a couple notches."

 

Participants return from a short break rested, well-fed, and eager to continue. The Training Days will continue through Wednesday, covering additional topics such as high-rise fires and Rapid Intervention Team tactics (taught by Lt. Tony Carroll, of DCFD Rescue Company 2).

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Everyone in attendance seemed to be excited for more of the top-notch instruction afforded by the speakers; there will certainly be more to come soon, as I take in more of this invaluable knowledge! I will unfortunately be unable to attend tomorrow's session, as I'm back at work. I will, however, be attending on Wednesday; follow the live Twitter updates from @AndyFredericks to keep up with what's going on as-it-happens, or check out the schedule to discover what topics are being discussed.

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*** UPDATE: DAY 3 ***

Attendees participate in a donut-eating competition for the last of two highly-sought-after items; a Training Days challenge coin, and a bound collection of Andy's numerous firefighting articles.

 

Captain Dave Barlow of the Fairfax County Fire & Rescue Department begins his presentation on attic and basement fires. The increasingly prevalent use of lightweight construction poses a hazard not only to Barlow and his crew, but to all firefighters in rapidly-developing areas.

 

A clip from the 1991 movie "Backdraft," a scene well-known to most firefighters. One character's monologue was loosely utilized by Barlow to explain that crews must understand how fire behaves in different situations in order to effectively extinguish it quickly and safely.

"Small spans, smaller compartments, smaller rooms. Access the attic from [these places] and exploit what you know about trusses to attack it safely… the important thing is to understand the principle of firefighting, not just the procedure. Don't be a cookbook firefighter!"

 

Captain Barlow stresses using hoselines in the right places as one of the key factors in firefighting.

"The problem isn't getting in there; we can do that. It's mis-application of water. See this house? We burned the roof off of it with two inch-and-three-quarter handlines already inside."

 

Lieutenant Fred Ill of the FDNY explains one of the funnier stories from the seminar; a very active storyteller, his body language is outdone only by his New York accent.

"So a buddy of mine and I are visiting the firehouse, about to head over to Rescue 1's company picnic. We're late, we've got all the beer, they're waiting… we find out from the guys that there's a job up the street; I grabbed my gear, but he didn't have his. He grabs the first thing he sees… and it's the Chaplain's turnout gear. I mean, this stuff is pristine. So we got over there and went in… it was a good one. He came outta this fire, and this gear looks like it's had thirty years on the job."

 

Lieutenant Ill and Lieutenant Chris Reynolds (pictured, also of the FDNY) presented a basic approach to garden apartment fires. These low-rise, multiple-dwelling buildings present their own unique complications from a firefighting perspective, especially since the quality of their building construction has been diminishing with each passing year.

"These things are built with math now, not mass. Used to be when you had to hold up a heavy load, you used a heavy piece of lumber beneath it. Now, they use protractors and compasses to hold these buildings up. They're just not as strong, and they fail on ya faster."

 

Just a couple of wiseguys.

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Unfortunately, I was unable to finish out the rest of the day, and so missed two of the presentations. I wish to thank all the coordinators and instructors of the Training Days for putting on such a wonderful three-day event (which I will certainly be attending next year!)

For more updates on the rest of the day, dozens more photos, and links to Andy's articles (definitely worth a read), follow #AndyFredericks on Twitter or find them on Facebook.

A consulting gig on 15th and East Capitol, NE.

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4:06 a.m. – Engine 8 is dispatched on a single-engine local alarm for smoke in the area.

4:15 a.m. – Everyone else is dispatched to deal with what they found.

A great video clip can be found at this link; credit to Vernard Green on Medic 8 at the time.

(As usual, click for full-size images.)

Motir Services, Inc. is (was) a consulting firm serving the DC area; clients include The Library of Congress, Arlington National Cemetery, The U.S. Department of Agriculture, and a whole slew of DC government organizations. Their self-description reads:

"A MULTI-SERVICES FIRM WHOSE PRINCIPAL STRENGTH IS THE ABILITY TO TAKE THE WORLD’S MOST SOPHISTICATED MANAGEMENT SKILLS AND APPLY THEM IN ORDER TO YIELD ONE CONSISTENT PRODUCT – WORLD-CLASS SERVICES."

Perhaps the folks at Motir could offer some upper-management-level advice regarding the best placement of this ladder (not that Truck 7 needed it).

The fire eventually went to two alarms, and took approximately thirty minutes to control. At one point, there was fire to be found on every one of the four story building, including a large wooden lean-to structure on the roof.

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Do you know what the best part was? Nobody cared what we were wearing.

Alright, that's it. I'm finally going to bed.

/RL

The Best Camera.

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Having misplaced my old, yet durable, point-and-shoot, I've been relying on my iPhone for my "work" camera. One of my dSLRs is too bulky for regular use; I find that the iPhone, while not having stellar image quality, certainly gets the job done.

You know what they say… the best camera is the one that's with you.

What's amazing about the advancement of technology is that the iPhone actually has more resolution than the first "pro"-level Nikon digital SLR (The D1, with a hefty price tag of almost $5,000 and a weight to match, sported a groundbreaking 2.7 megapixels). In comparison, my iPhone 3GS has 3 megapixels—I'll concede that the sensor size is different, but without going too much into the mechanics of it, it's still pretty damned amazing. Plus, I can do some post-processing in-camera by using an app called… wait for it… "BestCamera," created by photographer Chase Jarvis' awesome team. It's only $2.99, but you can get some amazing results with it. In fact, Chase's vision has started something of a neat community of iPhone photographers, whose work you can browse here.

Plus, this Apple hardware seems to have held up pretty well kicking around the inside of my bunker coat pocket, along with some door chocks and a few random tools. (Thanks, OtterBox.)

Regardless, it's always with me at work, and I enjoy those "ohmygodIwishIhadacamerarightnow" moments. Because I do! And I revel in going through my phone's photos every few months, because I forgot about most of the ridiculous stuff that's on there.

So here ya go. As always, click to embiggen.

 

Burn Foundation Fundraisers: a good excuse for firemen to get together and bowl at 8am in the morning.

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A poorly-built third story addition in NE… on one hell of a windy day.

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An early morning fire in our first-due area, from a few tours ago.

He had just put a new helmet in service that day, and said that he wanted to burn it up a little bit…

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Basketball, anyone? I think it adds a genuine Southeast touch to our firehouse.

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Potomac Gardens, up in Capitol Hill. An apartment off on the 3rd floor displaced quite a few residents. The woman from the fire apartment was (quite literally) dumped in my arms by Truck 7 for medical care, as she was found in the apartment with significant airway damage from smoke and heat.

View from the courtyard; the windows that weren't smashed out were coated with a thick, greasy soot.

I was pleasantly surprised to see other locals bringing coffee and hot chocolate to the displaced elderly residents who had to sit outside in the cold for a while; it looks like people from Capitol Hill have hearts, after all!

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Every firefighter in the city knows exactly what this is… but what it's doing sitting in someone's yard on Park Rd in NW, I have no idea.

Photo Contest / Fredericks Training Days

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I’m extremely pleased and quite proud to announce that my photo submission for the 2011 Andy Fredericks Training Days was selected as the winning entry!

We received dozens of submissions featuring photographs from all over the country.  In the end the photo we choose came from Alex Capece who is a firefighter in nearby Washington, DC and a talented photographer to boot. While his photo didn’t show a raging inferno or a dramatic conflagration I liked how it showed firefighters moving a hose line.  A simple task that we all need to be proficient performing, and perhaps most importantly, something that speaks to Andy’s legacy — mastery of the basics.

A few weeks ago, a fellow blogger alerted me to a photo contest, the winner of which would have their photo utilized as the promotional poster for the three-day conference in Alexandria, VA. I sent a few of my best their way, and I received the good news this morning.

Thanks to Bill Carey over at BackstepFirefighter for the heads-up… the May 2011 conference has some great speakers (no, seriously… read this list) and is shaping up to be quite the event. Register to attend here! There’s deals on lodging, and the registration fee is a steal in itself for everything that you get.

It looks like a wonderful legacy from a great man—more info on Andy Fredericks is available on the homepage. Three days of learning more about the greatest job in the world? Plus helping out a heartfelt charity organization to boot? Sign me up, buddy.

one city block

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“Victim, if you can hear me, keep tapping on something!”

It started slowly, almost imperceptibly. I pressed the headphones tighter to my head with one hand and turned the volume up.

tap… tap… tap…

It was definitely there, and it was clear as day.

tap… tap… tap…

Whoever was under the rubble had heard us, and their soft taps of flesh on concrete were the only indication that they were still alive.

Nobody else could hear it—-only the Delsar operator wearing the headset. I turned on the electronic filters designed to eliminate electrical hums and the rumble of apparatus, and started to triangulate the sound.

We had placed three of the sensor “pucks” out in a three-pronged attack on the pile of destroyed concrete and rebar beneath us. The other rescuers stood dead still, avoiding making any extraneous noise during this most crucial of times.

Hmm… it’s not so loud on Number 1. A bit stronger on Number 2; and all quiet on Number 3.

“Alright, let’s move ‘em around; it’s loudest near Two.”

And so the process went, calling and tapping and moving and listening.

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Con-Space Communications, Ltd., the makers of the Delsar LifeDetector Seismic/Acoustic listening system (as well as the SearchCams we utilized that day to find our “victims”) was a company started in the early 90′s as a high-tech revolution to the methods of urban search and rescue in use at the time. Today, they’re one of the largest manufacturers of audio, video, and acoustic devices used to locate trapped victims in environments all over the world.

Utilizing the Delsar system and SearchCam devices, the Engine and Rescue Squad trained on finding victims in one of the simplest, yet most intriguing training sites I’ve been to yet. In Crofton, MD, there’s a pile of concrete and rubble that amounts to about one city block of destruction.

Arranged in a giant U-shape and up to twenty-plus feet in height in some places, the site offers plenty of void spaces for us to practice in.

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“I got one!”

The firefighter crouched down on his haunches and shouted back to the group. Cazo—our trusty K-9—had located a victim and alerted us; shortly thereafter, a SearchCam probe inserted into a dark hole revealed a human form. He was dusty, but he was there.

After we had removed the random mixture of pallets, old carpet, and torso-sized hunks of what was once a building, Mike stood up and smiled at us.

“Man, it’s dark as shit down there!”

We laughed as we helped him out of the hole, and moved onto the next evolution. Three hours later, it was clear that we have some very powerful tools at our disposal for the various situations that we may encounter on a true building collapse.

But the emphasis, as with most things, can be placed back on basics. Fancy toys are nice, but don’t always take the place of tried-and-true methods like hailing–just shout to any victims who can hear and listen for a response. Anyone trapped can then be triangulated by rescuers placed strategically around the site.


A special thanks must be offered to Sgt. Holmes and Lt. Kauffman, who helped all the companies out with the drill (especially the Lieutenant, who spent most of the day wedging himself into tight spaces as the victim!)

Also, we can’t forget Cazo! Some of you may remember my post about two of our own working in Haiti. He’s one badass dog.


Photo round-up

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When you abandon a bike near a firehouse dumpster, be prepared for what it may become. I dragged this bike into the apparatus bay one evening after taking out the garbage; several tours later, I found it out behind the firehouse like this. Apparently “Anacostia Choppers” had gotten their hands on it.

This bike is not, as they say, adult-sized.

I heard it in Crocodile Dundee’s voice: ‘That’s not a frying pan. This is a frying pan!”

Around 2nd and Constitution Ave, a worker fell into a hole. The Squad(s) and several other companies extricated the banged-up (but otherwise alright) patient in this fairly small construction site.

We came in one morning to find that not only had #2 run two fires (an apartment, and an upper floor off at St. Elizabeths Hospital), but they had burned clean through a section of supply line.


Firefighter Baldino says, “Safety First!”…especially on medical locals, haha.

The Great Race! These four pictures are from a competition posed between the Engine and the Squad. The challenge: Run a crosslay from the wagon to the back parking lot. Run back to the wagon, grab a rack, and extend the line out the gate to V St. First to call for water wins.

He almost had him, too. Our guy’s line got wedged under the metal gate in the parking lot, so he was hemmed up for a few seconds. Unfortunately, they were so neck-and-neck that a few seconds was all his competitor needed to pull ahead.

A physics nerd’s take on technical rescue.

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With an uneasy creak, the spools began to move.

The chains could be heard pinging as they tightened and eventually held fast—little by little, the heavy wrecker began to lift the mammoth monolith of masonry that lay before us in a jungle of weathered stone and twisted rebar.

Yes, it’s drill time again; however, instead of going down into a trench, we’re going up in the air. E15′s collapse drill focused on shoring up ceilings, breaching concrete, and using our behemoth of a heavy rescue crane/wrecker to elevate the chunks of concrete that are piled haphazardly behind the Training Academy.

I have not yet attended the Collapse Rescue class that is afforded members of my firehouse; however, I have always found the physics principles that are inherent in technical rescue fascinating.

That’s right. I’m a classical physics and engineering mechanics dork at heart. Reading about formulas put together by the Army Corps of Engineers is one thing, but applying them in a real-world situation and seeing the results happen in front of you is entirely another.

Today was certainly no exception to my eager thirst for geeky science stuff; pictures, as always, can be clicked for a larger size.

Our concrete jungle, complete with… all sorts of junk.

The big bad boy wrecker. The boom itself is rated for 60 tons, and each of the two cable spools is rated for 16,400 lbs.

Rigging our strangely-shaped concrete tube of choice.

The Captain looks on…

Success! Yes, this is what I did at work today. I love my job.

Trench drill; or, playing in the mud for fun and profit.

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One of the unique things about being assigned to Engine 15 is the occasional need to support Rescue Squad 3 in their technical area of expertise: trench and collapse rescue. We’re expected to know more than the average bear about the various tools and concepts within the scope of these topics, and to be able to assist the squad guys with various aspects of each while on the scene of an actual incident.

Sure enough, I found myself back at the Training Academy on a dreary mid-week morning, slogging through the mud and dragging various lengths of lumber around.

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It’s an entirely new set of skills (and a language that goes along with it, to boot) that I have yet to learn. Although from what I saw during this drill, I think it’d be something I would enjoy—hell, I’ve always loved building things, so combine that with some ropes, a bit of math, and a whole boatload of physics? I’d be a happy guy.

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(Haha, you’ll have to forgive the weird vignetting on some of the photographs. I’m using a digital camera from 2004—which makes it electronically ancient—and the shutter leaves over the lens get stuck sometimes. I think it’s kinda cool, actually.)

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Hockey Tournament Pictures – still up!

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They’ve been available for a few weeks now, and I wasn’t sure if all participating team members were made aware that they’re still up for sale.  Below are a few favorites of mine; if you see anyone you recognize, please let them know!

The gallery collection is organized alphabetically by team, and can be reached by clicking here or on any of the photos below. Enjoy, and thanks to all the participants for some great hockey!

/RL

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Recruit Class 362 on the Fire Boat; a quick photo set.

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This past Friday, I was given the distinct pleasure of accompanying Recruit Class 362 to the Fire Boat for their class picture. They seemed excited and appeared in good spirits, seeing as their graduation is just over two weeks away.

(We all remember how that felt, don’t we?)

Long story short, they seem like a great group of recruits and I’m excited to attend their graduation later this month. Keep it up, guys—you’re almost there!

/RL

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As everyone boarded the boat, I heard a voice from somewhere in the crowd: “Huh. I should probably learn how to swim.”

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We couldn’t have asked for a more gorgeous day; I wish we could have stayed out longer!

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The recruits had an admittedly great idea for their photo, so they all piled onto FB 1 and puttered off into the river.


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I, meanwhile, headed out on the water aboard FireBoat 2.

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After a little “umm… more to the left… can he back up some? uh… now can you go forward?”, we finally had it. Many apologies to Blake, the (probably) greatly-annoyed pilot on my boat… photographers can be a real pain in the ass, but he stayed patient with me.

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The end result.

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Many thanks to the instructors for a) letting the recruits out of their cage for a few hours and b) allowing me to come with them.

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(Lastly, in true fire department fashion, what would an attempt at a nice portrait be without a shameless prankster?)

RaisingLadders Photography on Facebook, Indy, and a few other items.

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I’ve finally put together a Facebook page for the photography business; with the increasing functionality of FB’s pages for services/businesses, it’s almost like you don’t need a home website anymore (don’t worry, I won’t be discarding RLP.com—I’m always wary of FB crashing and burning as it becomes too Big-Brother-esque for its own good).

Become a Fan/Like It here, and browse around a bit if you haven’t already seen the photos from the main RLP site. The NikonFest video I made is also up there—damn you, Facebook, for being so versatile.

I’ve created an ad, as well, so keep an eye out for that in your sidebars while you mercilessly stalk your friends and coworkers.

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FDIC 2010 is just wrapping up in Indianapolis; Saturday is the last day, and I regret that I was unable to attend. I will, however, be looking to head out to wherever they hold it next year with my fellow FireEMS bloggers; sorry I couldn’t meet up with you guys! A quick search reveals a whole menagerie of posts on FireEMSBlogs about Indy and FDIC; a few of note come from Backstep Firefighter, FireCritic, and Tiger Schmittendorf (with my vote for the most clever “I’m at FDIC!” title I’ve found yet). He was also the one who was kind enough to use my photos in his presentation—more on that later.

Edit: Damn, I knew I’d miss some cool stuff! Not the least of which is this sweet podium designed to look like the tip of an aerial ladder, captured nicely by FireGeezer (original page):

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Last but not least, Gizmodo had a neat tidbit on a new firefighter’s mask that they found; did anyone see this at FDIC?

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Designed by Jason Swartzentruber (and featured on the concept technology website Tuvie.com), all these features like GPS trackers, a rotating cylinder harness, and a voice amplifier are supposed to make us safer and more effective as firefighters.

Any thoughts? To check it out even further, you can find more pictures on the Tuvie site (also accessible by clicking the photo above).

Caught another one…

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1505_19th_st_1smBobo poking his head in and surveying the damage after the fact. Click on the image for full-size.

Expecting another “food on the stove” box alarm or “nothing found” gas leak (like the last two had been, at 2 a.m. and 3:30 a.m., respectively), I grumbled as I peeled off my sweatshirt. My feet stung from running across the bay floor in socks, so I welcomed the feeling of tucking them sleepily into my boots.

“Oh come on… do you see what time it is? Where the hell is our relief?” It had been a long night already, and my question was lost in the wail of the siren as I pulled on my hood and coat.

Next to me, Bobo snapped on his radio and listened to the tactical channel for a minute.

“Basement fire!” He grinned as he turned back to the window, searching outside for smoke or any other indicators that we weren’t running around out here for nothing.

We were assigned to the rear as the second due company, and quickly found ourselves past 19th Street and pulling around the side.  Bobo had laid out the supply line and met me at the wagon; I grabbed a crosslay and turned to find a dizzying array of chain-link fence that blocked my path to the end-unit townhouse with smoke pumping from the concrete basement stairwell.

After three sharp turns and one poorly-hopped groin-level fence (ouch), I was masking up on the stairs as a guy from the Rescue Squad forced the door open. In we went, to find the damned tightest basement—if you could even call it that—I’ve seen yet. Maybe fifteen feet long by about seven or eight feet wide, the packrat of an owner had shoved all sorts of junk on either side of a very narrow walkway. Now imagine some Squad guys and the backstep of an engine company trying to cram into it; maneuvering my hoseline through and around that mess to get water on the fire was quite a process.

Nevertheless, Engine 15 got the knock while Engine 19 held the first floor above us. We hung around while the investigators did their work and Truck 7 did some overhaul, then we picked up and went home.

As I pulled all my stuff off the wagon, I smiled at the guys hauling their gear across the bay floor to relieve us.

Sometimes, late relief can be a good thing. Two fires in four tours—who could complain?

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There’s a bit more information available here at E15/RS3′s website; you’ll notice that the second picture is one of mine. I’ve added a few more below.

1505_19th_st_4smThis was the entryway at the bottom of the stairs; once inside, we had to make a sharp right and then navigate a walkway even narrower than this.


1505_19th_st_3smThe only place to maneuver is to the left of this table of junk. The window you see on the right is barely accessible from the interior unless you start climbing.


1505_19th_st_2smCoconuts! (There were some really random items in here.)


Two tours, one fire.

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As I walked out of the locker room, I saw my officer traversing my field of view in a big hurry.
I was on the phone at the time, and my attention was drawn to his form crossing the bay floor. i/This must be something important./i
My curiosity was answered a moment later, when I heard a voice echoing from the watch desk: “1212 Eaton St! First due, first due!”
“Shit, we’ve got a box. I gotta go.”
Before I even finished the sentence, I tossed my phone in my pocket and broke into a full sprint from the back of the bay. I weaved my way through and around the boat, the tactical support truck, and the other pieces of Special Ops apparatus that stood between me and the engine.
I turned to Antoine as we pulled on our coats and remarked that I knew we’d end up in this neighborhood tonight. As I remember from my mentoring days, we routinely run into the notorious neighborhood of Barry Farms at least a few times a tour–tonight, on only my second tour back at 15, I had no clue that we’d be getting a first-due fire.
Seconds later, we turned the corner to Eaton St and started looking around—-nothing yet. A quick right turn later, we had hopped a curb and pulled up in front of a two-story end unit with fire coming from the second-floor window.
The first half of the crosslay smoothly found its way onto my shoulder; I spun and took off, pulling the remainder of the hoseline into a neat pile next to the wagon.
The Lieutenant and I pushed up the stairs until we could no longer see; we masked up at the top of the stairs and made the U-turn towards the fire room. Just inside the doorway, I parked myself off to the side and opened up into the ceiling.
It was quick work, since it was only a room-and-contents; thankfully, with the Squad and Engine 25 pushing right up behind us, we got it quick and were able to knock it within a few minutes.
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“Hey, rook!”
I was outside, replacing my SCBA bottle. I looked up through my mop of sweat-soaked hair to find one of the squad guys ambling towards me.
“Didn’t take you long to earn your shirt, huh?”
I cocked my head quizzically.
“You can’t wear 15 Engine colors until you get a fire.”
He paused as I made the ah-ha! face.
(I should have known it was coming.)
As he turned away, he laughed over his shoulder:
“The hard part is over. Now all you have to do is get out of probation, dumbass.”

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As I walked out of the locker room, I saw my officer traversing my field of view in a big hurry.

I was on the phone at the time, and my attention was drawn to his form crossing the bay floor. This must be something important.

My curiosity was answered a moment later, when I heard a voice echoing from the watch desk: “1212 Eaton St! First due, first due!”

“Shit, we’ve got a box. I gotta go.”

Before I even finished the sentence, I tossed my phone in my pocket and broke into a full sprint from the back of the bay. I weaved my way through and around the boat, the tactical support truck, and the other pieces of Special Operations apparatus that stood between me and the engine.

I turned to Antoine as we pulled on our coats and remarked that I knew we’d end up in this neighborhood tonight. As I remember from my mentoring days, we routinely run into the notorious neighborhood of Barry Farms at least a few times a tour—but tonight, on only my second tour back at 15, I had no clue that we’d be getting a first-due fire.

Seconds later, we turned the corner to Eaton St and started looking around—nothing yet. A quick right turn later, we had hopped a curb and pulled up in front of a two-story end unit with fire coming from the second-floor window.

The first half of the crosslay smoothly found its way onto my shoulder; I spun and took off, pulling the remainder of the hoseline into a neat pile next to the wagon.

The Lieutenant and I pushed up the stairs until we could no longer see; we masked up at the top of the stairs and made a U-turn towards the fire room. Just inside the doorway, I parked myself off to the side and opened up into the ceiling.

It was quick work, since it was only a room-and-contents; thankfully, with the Squad and Engine 25 pushing right up behind us, we got it quick and were able to knock it within a few minutes.

rl_4-5-10-101_smThe aftermath. Fire was showing from the window directly above the front door.

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“Hey, rook!”

I was outside, replacing my SCBA bottle. I looked up through my mop of sweat-soaked hair to find one of the squad guys ambling towards me.

“Didn’t take you long to earn your shirt, huh?”

I cocked my head quizzically.

“You can’t wear 15 Engine colors until you get a fire.”

He paused as I made the ah-ha! face.

(I should have known it was coming.)

As he turned away, he laughed over his shoulder:

“The hard part is over. Now all you have to do is hurry up and finish your probation, ya dumbass.”

Obstacle courses; also, my farewell to The Farm.

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“Shit. Uh, Sarge? There’s no stairs back here.”

We were second due on a reported basement fire, and we had seen smoke as we pulled up. The wagon had come through one of the legs in an H-shaped alley, and the house was dead smack in the middle of the crossbar. We grabbed the 400′ and took off, Sgt. McAllister yelling his unique brand of high-volume inspirational messages behind me.

With a hundred feet of hose on our shoulders, we stopped dead as we turned to look towards the house. In front of us stood a seven-foot cinderblock wall, blocking the backyard. The officer reached for his radio and snapped off a quick transmission:

“Truck, we need some ground ladders back here to gain access to the rear.”

We could see Truck 11 already starting towards us with ladders from the other end of the alley; the few moments it took them to throw it felt like forever, especially when silhouetted by the smoke we could see emptying into the sky.

Still trying to keep the hose piled on my shoulder in a reasonably-organized bundle, I climbed up the ladder and side-stepped onto the top of the wall.

“There’s a bit of a drop here…”

The jump to reach the grass on the other side didn’t look like much; however, I’m not much of an Olympian in shorts and track shoes, much less with all my gear and a hoseline. I didn’t have much time to think about the whole process… better to throw myself into oblivion than have my officer pissed at me for holding up progress.

Whump!

One muffled thud and a sharply-uttered curse later, I found myself on the ground. The scramble up the grass was slow going (it was steep as hell; how do you even get a lawnmower on an angle like that?) but we would have had a bear of a time gaining access to the basement regardless of our situation; every window and door was barred, and there wasn’t a saw in sight. The truck was laddering and ventilating upper-level, non-barred windows, and we heard another company getting a knock on the fire. Less than a minute later, the tillerman came around and cut the bars for us, but it was too late.

As it turned out, the building layout was such that the “basement” was just slightly lower than the two stories visible in the front, and the first-due company was able to make their way to the fire without much difficulty. We, however, simply had to pick up and go home.

(I almost took a spill going back over the wall to bring the hose back. Note to self: if a ladder is bridging a gap between elevated ground and the top of a wall, don’t step on the side of the ladder that’s past the wall—yes, I’m a dumbass. I think the officer on E22 was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see the rookie do something hilariously stupid…)

—————

It appears that my time in the 1st Battalion has come to an end. Last week, I was transferred to E15 in Anacostia (where I did my mentoring several months ago), and my first shift is on Sunday.

Through good times and bad, I learned a lot from the guys at Engine 26 and Truck 15; I wish you all the best and I’m certain I’ll see many of you again. Take care, and be safe.

/RL

P.S. – I still owe you all a probation dinner—you didn’t think I was just gonna skip out on that, did ya?

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DCFD Hockey Tournament

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Quick note: I’ve been re-building my photography website and creating promotional materials for several upcoming events, so that’s been taking up the majority of my spare time recently. In a similar vein, however, I will be photographing the DCFD Hockey team’s tournament, which takes place in mid-April. Teams are traveling from all sorts of places across the country to attend—past participants have informed me that it’s usually one hell of a good time. More information is available on the team’s website; be sure to keep an eye out for a couple of action photos posted in the near future!

The long-awaited Dublin Fire Brigade update!

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A voice rang out from down the hallway, with it’s owner appearing around a corner seconds later.

“Hey! We’ve got a call near the Liffey!

Glenn turned his head from us and cursed quietly.

“Are we goin’ swimming?” he asked, tentatively.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Glenn’s head lolled back towards us with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, thank God for that. I’m on the back step tonight, and that river’s dirty as hell.”

Glenn Delves is 29 years old and has been with the Dublin Fire Brigade for seven years. Currently assigned to the Tara Street station (which also serves as Brigade headquarters during the the day), his role as a firefighter, paramedic, and swiftwater rescue technician is nothing unique to the 40-some other firefighters in the house with him.

“Oh yeah, we’re all paramedics… and it just makes sense for most of us to be SRTs, since the river is right nearby and we go in there pretty frequently for all sorts of stuff.”

Waitaminute, back up. Forty firefighters?

“It’s the biggest house in Dublin. Even after HQ shuts down for the day, we still have a lot of people here.”

Almost as if he anticipated the question (probably by the incredulous look on my face), he added:

“Oh, and kitchen duty is horrible.”

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The tour of the firehouse was brief but fascinating. The station opened at the intersection of Tara and Pearse Streets was opened as DFB headquarters in April of 1908—the old brick watchtower still stands, and is a historically protected structure by the city of Dublin. Today, it exists as an open-air station with canopy covers for the apparatus and multiple floors for bunkrooms, the mess hall, administrative offices, and “Control Room” (the call-taking center for the entire city as well as many surrounding counties, staffed 24 hours a day by full-time Brigade personnel).

Unfortunately, our trip was cut short by Glenn and the rest of his crew headed out on calls—with approximately 133,000 calls annually, the Dublin Fire Brigade must balance the average 364 daily calls amongst twelve full-time (and three on-call or “retained”) stations. However, with locations like Tara Street staffing two engines, two ladder trucks, one tower ladder, two ambulances, a Haz-Mat Unit, and a District Officer, the workload seems pretty well spread-out.

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It was a wonderful trip, and I can’t express my gratitude to the DFB enough. If there’s any Dublin Fire personnel reading this, I sincerely appreciate your hospitality and wish you all the best in your careers—take care and stay safe, brothers.

Oh, and if you ever need a place to crash in D.C., drop me a line and I’d be more than happy to help out.

/RL

ireland_RL-13_smGlenn Delves, a seven-year veteran of the Dublin Fire Brigade, opens compartments on the fire engine and describes the equipment contained within.


ireland_RL-14_smAs Swiftwater Rescue Technicians (SRTs), the crews of the Tara Street station keep their river rescue gear ready on the apparatus at all times.


ireland_RL-15_smThe Dublin Fire Brigade utilizes Dräger breathing apparatus; three SCBA packs line the rear wall of the bench seat for the firefighters “on the back step” for that shift.


ireland_RL-12_smI think it’s universal: DFB personnel dislike their ambulance rotations just as much as their American counterparts do, it seems.

(I can just hear Dave Dennis now: “That suck-ass rookie paramedic would go to an Irish firehouse and take pitchurrs of a ambalance!” Yep—go ahead, Dave, have your fun.)

ireland_RL-9_smThis button from the DCFD Emerald Society is older than I am. There’s quite an impressive wall of patches just inside the entrance to the station—incidentally, one of Glenn’s coworkers is now the proud owner of a classic E26/T15 “Foghorn Leghorn” patch.


ireland_RL-17_sm(I bet they hate the sound of their printer winding up, too.)


ireland_RL-26_smAfter Firefighter Delves (unfortunately) stated that he disliked his appointed nickname of “Glennsy,” the jokes compounded until his gear was permanently branded with “Glennsy Delvesy” in permanent marker. Much to his chagrin, he discovered it just as he was escorting these visitors through the facilities.


ireland_RL-28_smThe distinctive markings on this helmet indicate the rank of “sub-officer;” personnel advance from Firefighter to Sub-Officer to Station Officer to District Officer and beyond, receiving increasing responsibilities with each promotion.


ireland_RL-25_smWe arrived just in time for evening shift change, so we were witness to the daily equipment checks; it would appear that DFB ladder technicians get to ride in comfortable style while operating the turntable.


ireland_RL-24_sm(I would be remiss if I didn’t include something about “raising” a “ladder”, no? Terrible joke, I’m sorry.) Both DFB aerial ladders within the Tara Street Station reach 100′ in the air when fully extended. “There aren’t too many high-rises throughout the city,” say Firefighter Delves, “but we’re downtown. The business district around us has the highest buildings you’ll see in Dublin.”


ireland_RL-16_smAll hose carried on the apparatus is kept rolled. At a fire, the equivalent of the American lineman’s position would get off the piece, unroll a section of hose, connect a nozzle, and then advance to the structure; the Dublin Fire Brigade does not utilize pre-connected lines.


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The DFB operates on a 39-hour work week, across four shifts (designated A through D). The spacious accommodations of Tara Street are more than enough to feed and house approximately forty personnel per shift, from firefighter through the on-duty District Officer.

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On a non-fire department note: a little bit later, I’ll add some pictures from the highlights of the remainder of my vacation. I know it’s not particularly relevant to RL as a whole, but it’s a beautiful country, and I would highly recommend Ireland for anyone who enjoys traveling.

Back from Ireland… pictures to follow soon!

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Alright, between unpacking, fixing my jet lag, and backing up all my camera’s memory cards, it’ll be a little bit before I can put something together about the DFB. Suffice it to say, we were treated to a great tour through the firehouse, had some hilarious banter with the guys… and I even snagged a DFB t-shirt (after exchanging one from E26, of course).

Like I said, more to come—but it’ll be a good one.

/RL

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Leaving for Ireland today! (plus pictures)

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Be safe, everyone… I’ll see you all in about a week!

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I had some film developed recently, and I thought I’d add a few of my (decidedly older) shots, just for kicks. I’ve always liked the grainy look of real film—almost unheard of in this age of digital.

/RL

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Demotivational Posters, among other things.

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I’ve been gearing up for Ireland and redesigning RaisingLaddersPhotography.com, so I haven’t had much time for writing lately.

I do, however, have a few gems that I made a while back tucked away for just this occasion—enjoy the photos!

They’re quite the throwback to Academy days—a strange mixture, but I think that’s what makes them fun. You’ll find the remainder of them in a new gallery here. Some of the images contain explicit language, so be forewarned.

/RL

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P.S. – the two above photos were from an early morning fire in the 1300 block of Trinidad Ave; E10 held the fire at the stairs, while E8 (second-due) got the knock on the basement fire. WUSA9 has a quick tidbit here about the fire.

CONSISTENCY_smOh, 358. We were… interesting.

Enjoy the rest of the posters.

I used to like snow. Really, I did.

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e9_smImage © muohace_dc

I used to like playing in the snow, stomping through it… snowball fights, snow angels, the whole nine wintery yards.

But after working in all this?

I’m kicking the head right off of the next snowman I see (and see them I will, because it’s dumping snow right now and I’m working tomorrow).

So many streets were impassable, even with snow chains. Many of our calls involved parking the engine and ambulance way down the block and hiking our equipment through the streets to get to the patient’s house—which may or may not offer us a shoveled walkway for access.

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I lost count of how many times we had to dig the ambulance out. The engine became stuck a few times, too—and without fail, as soon as we dig ourselves out, here comes a shout from down the street: “Hey, can you guys come give us a hand?”

Why you’re out here at this ungodly hour of the night, trying to make headway on an unplowed street in a little-ass sedan, I have no idea. But never mind that, intelligent citizen. We’d be happy to assist you in your time of need. *grumble*

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A few funny moments:

  • Walking back down the street—carrying the med bag, cardiac monitor, and O2 bottle—I slipped and landed, cartoon-style, right on my ass (I only wish the oxygen bottle hadn’t fallen between my legs at that exact instant). A few concerned folks who were out shoveling their sidewalks sharply stifled their laughter and asked if I was okay. Ah, everything’s okay here; my pride broke my fall.
  • Warning: not all packed snow is as sturdy as you might think. Standing on what used to be a sidewalk, I was asking questions to a patient outside. Suddenly, I found myself three feet lower than I was before. I’m sure it was quite comical (including my awkward climb out of the thigh-deep snow): “So sir, how long have you been FOOOM—uh, dammit.”
  • “Hey rookie! Why don’t you climb up front and see how the engine handles in the snow.” Shit. As I hauled myself into the driver’s seat, I experienced a horrible recurring dream that always ended with me typing a very long letter: “Dear Fire Chief…”
  • Calls delayed dinner until 8pm; calls further delayed my cleaning duties, such that I was still mopping at midnight. (Being a rookie; ain’t it grand??)
  • 1:30 a.m. – “Ma’am, how long have you been experiencing this headache?”   “Since July.”
  • 4:20 a.m. – resetting a fire alarm at a large garbage facility, slogging through (what I hope was) water as we contemplated what time our relief would arrive.

I folded up my sheets and pillow at 4:45 a.m., having not even climbed into bed once.

e16_smImage © triotriotrio

—————

As far as keeping up with changing weather conditions, Twitter can prove extremely useful.

DC Fire/EMS (@dcfireems):

DC Dept. of Transportation (@DDOTDC):

Maryland State Hwy Administration (@MDSHA):

They’re perfect for mobile updates, so you can keep updated whether you’re out and about or stuck inside.

I’ll be out there tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to another fun-filled tour on the Northeast streets…

Stay safe, everyone.

/RL

The Dublin Fire Brigade.

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Be forewarned: I have absolutely no Irish blood in me. However, given the great and long-standing tradition that those with Irish heritage hold within fire departments throughout the nation (as well as my upcoming trip to Ireland, which I’ll talk about later), I felt it only proper to craft something today about the Dublin Fire Brigade.

dubhistoricalrecord_smAlthough officially founded in 1862 by the Dublin Corporation Fire Brigade Act, the country of Ireland has written records and legislation pertaining to firefighting operations dating back to the 12th century A.D. According to the Irish Fire Services website, such archaically written gems include provisions for “forty buckets of  leather for carrying of water  to fight fires and twelve graps (sic) of iron for pulling houses that chance to be afire” (1546 A.D.), and the more absurdly graphic “…any person answerable for the burning of a street shall be arrested, cast into the middle of the fire, or pay a fine of 100 shillings” (1305 A.D.) As we would later see in the American history of volunteerism, Irish insurance companies would place “fire marks” on buildings to state which company protected the structure; for example, Sunwinetavernst Alliance placed a large metal sun with rays emanating outwards from it. (As a sidenote, Sun Alliance is still in business to this day—the original fire mark is visible at the bottom of their History page.)

The original superintendent—also known as the Chief Fire Officer—was a man by the name of J.R. Ingram, a native Dubliner who was a volunteer firefighter in both London and New York prior to his appointment. His initial brigade consisted of twenty-four men in a house off of Winetavern Street in Dublin, right near the famous Christchurch Cathedral.

ireland_mapToday, the Dublin Fire Brigade comprises almost 900 members with 14 stations, 22 fire engines, 12 ambulances, and a response area containing over 1 million citizens. The Fire Brigade runs the Emergency Ambulance Service (all the firefighters are paramedics, too) as well as staffing the call-taking center with actual firefighters.  Their apparatus is currently manufactured by UK-based John Dennis Coachbuilders, and the training regimen runs about 16 weeks for basic firefighting. As stated before, much of this information is available through their well-stocked website or this nice little find, The Irish Fire Service’s Firefighter Handbook (it’s 277 pp. and 2.71MB, so be careful opening it. You’d be better off right-clicking and downloading it if you want to read it).

So anyways, let’s get down to business. In the end of February, I’ll be traveling to Dublin for almost a week of sightseeing, vacation, and (hopefully) a good bit of photography (both fire department and otherwise)—I’ve already piqued my interest with a Flickr search!

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I’ve got some t-shirts and patches that I’m hoping to do a little trading with; what would really be great is if any readers/fellow bloggers know anyone who could get in touch with a DFB member I could meet up with. Medic 999, I’m looking at you! I know you’re in the UK, but just like us DCFD guys know some people in FDNY, I would hope you might have a few buddies in Ireland.

Any help?

Images courtesy of DCFD Emerald Society, Irish Fire Services, JSTOR.org, and Flickr users hwatterworth, bsii, and super tourist.

Finally, a first-due job… and a pretty good one, at that.

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photo-2Our wagon driver’s voice came from the front of the cab, punching through the audible mess of sirens and air horns as we screamed a left out of the firehouse.

“It’s off! This one’s off!”

The other back step guy and I looked at each other.

What?

We just left the firehouse…

…we’re nowhere near the address…

…do you see… I don’t… there’s no smoke in the sky…

…nobody’s said anything on the radio…

Nevertheless, as our brains struggled with how in the hell he knew that, we simultaneously reached back to turn our SCBA bottles on. Wayne may joke about many things, but this is not one of them. (Incredibly, he would tell us later that he knew about the fire so far in advance because of a “different cloud pattern”—his words, not mine—in the sky towards where the call was.)

We double-checked our gear, and I tightened the last of my harness straps as we made the turn onto 25th Place.

photo-1First thought: Ohhhhh yes.

Second thought: Hey dumbass! Quit staring… you have stuff to do.

As I laid out the supply hose and the wagon took off, I saw bright red paint disappear into a haze that enveloped the block. I ran to catch up to the rest of my crew, and I saw that the lineman was already masking up at the front door. I dropped to put my mask on, made sure his hose was flaked out well enough behind him, and headed inside.

What in the name of… Christmas?

Trampling through the living room and working our way towards the stairs, we found ourselves walking over an unbelievable amount of Christmas decorations. Reindeer, nutcrackers of varying sizes, tinsel, rope lights, string lights, extension cords, wrapping paper… anything you can think of, it was in our way (yes, that is Santa and his sleigh in the first picture).

The first floor had a little bit of fire going in the bathroom and kitchen (to our left and right off the small hallway, respectively). My lineman whipped the nozzle around in each room as I fed him more and more line to advance. Our ultimate goal laid in getting up the stairs to the second floor, so we knocked the first floor fairly quickly and prepared to go upstairs.

There was only one problem, which I had been warned of in the Academy (I can still hear VanHagen’s voice): “…yeah, you might have a minute or two to do your own thing, but just know that pretty soon you’re going to have about twenty other [expletive]ers coming right up your ass. If you’ve got something, it’s gonna get real crowded—real fast.”

And such was certainly the case. The third due engine company hoping to steal our fire with their own hoseline; the rescue squad trying to muscle past us to do a search…

God only knows who else was crammed in that hallway, but there wasn’t a whole lot of room to move. To top it off, it felt like every person behind us was standing on our damned hose—an unfortunate reality of being in a narrow hallway. After some pulling, some shoving, and a good deal of yelling, we had finally freed up enough line to make it up the stairs (which were rapidly turning into the world’s nastiest Slip-n-Slide made of soot, water, and melted plastic Christmas crap).photo-3

At the top of the stairs, Truck 15′s bar man was hooking the walls in front of me, and my lineman was working his way around to the left. We could see the orange glow just past the landing, and we wanted nothing more than to get in there and hit it. A few minor fires jumped up around us, sometimes beside us, sometimes behind us. George was smashing walls with his halligan bar and finding little pockets of fire; each one we extinguished put us closer and closer to the seat of the fire, as we moved inch by inch. The second floor was fully involved, and we approached the middle of the room to find the entire ceiling glowing. I sidled up beside Tate, anchoring the hose with my body so he wouldn’t have to fight as hard against the nozzle pressure. He knocked down the left side of the room, and was even nice enough to give me a minute or two on the line to knock down the right side—seeing as it was the first real house fire both of us had ever had, I was pretty damned appreciative (much to my chagrin, however, he was sure to snatch the nozzle back real quick. It was, after all, mostly his fire).

We heard the truck working around us, their saws opening up the roof and their hooks breaking out the windows. The smoke that had once surrounded us with a soupy blackness transformed into a thinner gray, and began to clear out.

And just like that, most of it was gone. We were ordered to be relieved by another company—and were running low on air anyways—so we made our way down the stairs and outside as the next engine sprayed down what little licks of fire were left.

photo-6Outside, we all peeled our masks off. Our coats were steaming, our faces were sweating, and our gear was fully soaked with dirty water.

But we had done it.

Engine 26 had fought the beast, and we won—and we had a kick-ass time doing it, too.

We cleared that call several hours later—after the inevitable and exhausting overhaul work of tearing stuff up, shoveling it into buckets, and piling it in the front yard—with soot on our faces and pride in our hearts.

Sounds corny, doesn’t it? Well, it’s true. The two of us spent the rest of that tour smiling, having finally done something that many people only dream of as a small child in a Halloween costume. Anyone older and more jaded experienced than I will probably say I’m just a young excited kid, still wet behind the ears and with much to learn—and they’re absolutely right. I’m still far too young on this job to know my ass from my elbow, but I’m having way too much fun for anyone to damper my spirits.

photo-5Say what you will, gentlemen—critique to your heart’s content, if you wish. But remember that you, too, had a first fire. It may not have been perfect, it may not have been a big story in the local paper. But it was yours, and it was your first.

I’ve got some great guys around to teach me and plenty of time for them to do so; for now, congratulations—here’s to Engine 26 gettin’ it done!

Proudly,

/RL

P.S. – My apologies to the big dude from Truck 6. Give me a call and I’ll buy you a beer.

Image © available upon request, used with permission.

DCFD’s own in Haiti, plus picture compilations.

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First and foremost, I’m proud to see one of DCFD’s own searching for survivors after the terrible earthquake in Haiti.

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From www.tampabay.com’s All Eyes feature: Christopher Holmes from the Fairfax County Urban Search and Rescue searches for survivors in the rubble of a building after a massive earthquake on January 14, 2010 in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Planeloads of rescuers and relief supplies headed to Haiti as governments and aid agencies launched a massive relief operation after a powerful earthquake killing possibly thousands. Numerous buildings were reduced to rubble by the 7.0-strong quake on January 12. (Photo by Joe Raedle/Getty Images)

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Sergeant Holmes and his dog before, and they do make quite the team together. Great work, Sarge—be safe out there.

Dave Statter of Statter911 has been doing an excellent job chronicling the efforts Virginia’s Task Forces One and Two; more information (video interviews, news updates, pictures, etc.) is available here.

Alan Taylor, the brains behind Boston.com’s The Big Picture, has kept up an excellent feed of images from various stages of collapse, rescue, and recovery; Earthquake in Haiti; Haiti 48 Hours Later; Haiti Six Days Later.

(As he writes on the Big Picture “About” page, these photos are the best selections from various wire services that flow into the Boston Globe; he’s got a hell of an eye, and I eagerly await the Mon/Wed/Fri updates.)

Lastly, I’d like to include this image: from the UK’s Evening Star comes a photograph from Port au Prince (© Matthew McDermott) that shows a much greater side than most of the typical pictures of death and destruction so rampant in the news today.

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This is Kiki, an eight-year-old boy who was rescued in the Nazan district after being trapped for over a week underneath the rubble. I’d be pretty ecstatic, too!

A great job and best wishes to every rescue worker who is down in Haiti doing something to help—and here’s to hoping everyone makes it home safely.

“Documenting the Decade” – or, how I made the New York Times!

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A few weeks back, the New York Times website asked for submissions to be considered in their “Documenting the Decade” feature. I figured I’d toss some of my work into the ring, and two of my photographs were selected! I mean, it’s not the print version (which I’ve always wanted to be included in)—but with the advent of the internet and e-book readers like the Amazon Kindle, who reads physical newspapers anymore?

I do, damnit. Hands covered in newsprint are an archaic badge of honor… so I’m still going for the print edition someday.

Screenshots below lead to full-size images. The first is from Inauguration Day, and the second is from the weekend blizzard the east coast had in the middle of December.

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Georgetown University EMS: a story in photos.

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A little while back, I spent a day with Georgetown University’s EMS system (officially yet whimsically known as “G.E.R.M.S”). I originally contacted their PR director because I was intrigued by the notion of an independent emergency service provider that operates within a city that already has a full-coverage Fire and EMS Department. It’s not a bad little operation; the providers are competent and excited to work, their training regimen goes above and beyond the national minimum standards, and there’s certainly no shortage of undergraduate students eager to join the ranks. As an entirely student-run organization under the umbrella of Campus Safety, they have developed as an excellent resource on campus whose response and subsequent medical care has proved useful to students, faculty, and visitors alike.These frames and accompanying text are what I dug up one rainy afternoon with G.E.R.M.S.

Click on the photos below for the larger, more-readable version!

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Thank you to the entire G.E.R.M.S administrative and training staff, with a special thank-you to Brendan Maggiore (VP of Operations), without whom this endeavor would never have come together. If anyone would like to see additional pictures from that day, all of them are available in this gallery on Raising Ladders Photography.

Keep up the great work, G.E.R.M.S.!

/RL

P.S. – an interesting bit of lore: on a shelf above the staff mailboxes, there is an old frame holding a conundrum of a photograph. It is, quite clearly, a glamour shot of actor Danny Glover. However, upon closer inspection, it says “To Germs, continue your great work. Danny Glover.” The strangest part? Nobody has any idea how it ended up there. Despite the photo’s prominent location for “quite some time now” (i.e. longer than anyone whom I asked remembers), there are no records, memories, or even legends of its origin. One G.E.R.M.S. member took it upon himself to look back more than a decade into the service’s employment records, interviewing and calling prior staffers about the photo—nevertheless, the search proved once again fruitless.

Any ideas?