This is verbatim from Huffington Post, to preserve consistency and accuracy.

(Sorry for the cop-out copypasta, but it's relevant.)

My only thoughts: I would feel more comfortable if the Mayor replied with a strong "yes, we are prepared," instead of his disconcerting use of a litote.

Also, with an increasing call volume, continued difficulties with both personnel staffing and apparatus maintenance, and the ever-dwindling numbers of ALS providers, I do not think it bodes well for the efficacy of the Department in the event of a large-scale or mass-casualty incident—and certainly not during the summer months, when everything tends to break down (both literally and figuratively).

I'm no Subject Matter Expert over here, but to quote Sgt. Joe Friday—"all we know are the facts, ma'am."

—RL

—————

Can D.C. Handle A Boston-Like Attack? D.C. Mayor Says Yes, After Letter Suggesting Otherwise

WASHINGTON — Can D.C. handle a Boston-like attack?

The Washington Examiner reports that D.C. Mayor Vincent Gray suggests not in a recent letter:

D.C. Mayor Vincent Gray has warned key lawmakers that the D.C. Fire and Emergency Medical Services Department's staffing protocols are leaving the District at risk in the event of a Boston-style attack against the city.

"The existing shift structure permits many personnel to commute extraordinary distances to report for work," Gray wrote in a letter to two legislators. "Should a serious emergency situation impact the District of Columbia, as it did [on April 15] in Boston, it would be almost impossible for many off-duty FEMS workers, who would be desperately needed, to respond in a timely manner to meet the needs of our residents."

Firefighters currently work 24-hour shifts before receiving three days off, but the Gray administration has used contract negotiations to seek a new arrangement of shorter shifts.

Gray spokesperson Pedro Ribeiro told The Huffington Post that the letter — you can read a PDF of it here – was intended only to recommend a more flexible FEMS staffing protocol, but that Gray did not mean to say D.C. is currently unprepared.

"What we're saying is it would be easier if those folks were closer. However it doesn't mean we're not prepared. We are," said Ribeiro. "We respond to hundreds of incidents a day…To say that the District is unprepared is absurd."

The president of the D.C. firefighters' union told the Examiner that he disagrees both with Gray's proposed changes, which come as the city and the firefighters will be going into binding arbitration, and with the suggestion that D.C. is unprepared to respond to an attack:

Edward Smith, the union's president, said firefighters are sufficiently close to the District, and he dismissed Gray's contention that the current shift structure poses a public safety threat.

"I think he's playing on people's emotions," Edward Smith said. "I don't believe those claims at all."

Smith added: "We'd be able to respond initially to any emergency."

For more on the historical context of the administration's dispute with firefighters, see this recent Washingtonian article.

And more: Gray and Washington Post reporter Tim Craig exchanged tweets over the Examiner story today:

“Well, shit, I guess we should mask up for this one.”

I could barely hear the Lieutenant’s voice from the front of the fire engine; with the Q siren, the air horn, and all the radio chatter from the first- and second-due companies, his voice was almost imperceptible.

A quick glance to the left out of the layout man’s side of the engine confirmed was I was hoping—that this detached, single-family home had already lit off. Smoke belched from the front door as a truckman forced the door open. We’d learn later that the fire apparently started in the basement, but for right now, all we knew was that we were about to have a really good night.

Sean expertly piloted the wagon towards 33rd St, SE—seeing that everything was blocked up from this direction, he spun the wheel at the last second to bring the engine on track to circle around and approach from the other side.

“Pull our own line; pull our own line!” the Lieutenant repeated; throwing his words over his shoulder; they fell onto an already-empty back step.

Aw, come on, Lieu—you know we got this.

I snagged the 250’ line from the rear of the wagon, shouting to Sean (and hoping he heard) that I was taking something off the back.

Well, fuck it. He’s a smart dude—he’ll figure it out. After all, when there’s a fire, “…ain’t nobody got time for that.”

Thwack, thwack, thwack. I threw several folds of hose off my shoulder in a rough zig-zag, counting on my layout man to clarify the squiggles of cotton I’d drawn on the ground. I dropped to a knee in the front yard, sinking just beneath the gray smoke pumping out of the front door and securing the nozzle squarely between my knees.

Mask, hood, helmet, gloves, go. The routine’s pretty well-ensconced in the lizard part of my brain, so it’s never hard to access—even without the adrenaline that was currently coursing through my veins. Into the front room we went, managing after what felt like forever to make it past the sea of reflective coats that always seem to be blocking the most efficient route for a hoseline.

Get… outta… c’mon… *grumble*… sonofa… I let out an exasperated sigh as I hauled on the hose behind me, trying to gain any amount of inches towards the orange ceiling I could see through the next doorway.

Minutes of straining went by, and my layout man and I gained a few more feet. I could already see one company ahead, looking like they’d make it into the room before us. Not yet resigned to our second-rate fate as the third-due engine, my officer and I started plotting how to access the next room without using the blocked doorway. Examining the first floor walls, we estimated that the majority of the fire in the next room was directly on the other side of this wall. Which means that this wall needs to have a big-ass hole in it. My Lieutenant went to work with his ever-present halligan bar, smashing between studs; I, on the other hand, didn’t have anything but a hoseline.

Or did I? I reached down towards my pocket to grab a set of cutters, pliers, anything I could use to bash through a wall without breaking my knuckles. My hand dropped down, almost intuitively, to the heaviest thing that was easily accessible: that flashlight I was testing out: the LED-powered, aluminum-milled monstrosity that I had turned on without thinking and had been lighting my way for the past few minutes. I had carried it with me on every alarm since I’d received it, eagerly awaiting the chance to really put it through the ringer (as you’ll see in the photos, I had jury-rigged the light onto an old radio strap with a hose clamp and some key rings).

Fuck it. Coast is gonna love my writeup on this.

I began slamming the flashlight’s front edge into the wall as hard as I could, tearing out chunks of drywall with each hit. Several times, I made jarring contact with 3/4” plywood screwed to the other side of the studs, stinging my hands and producing a loud crack I could hear over the din of the room. After several hits (and with the light still functioning well), I saw the doorway clear out.

Hmm. No sense in continuing this wall-breaching exercise if I’ve got a perfectly good avenue into the next room.

(I would learn later that one engine company had burst a section of their hoseline, rendering their presence useless; another company hadn’t pulled enough line, and were stuck just before the doorway with no more hose and no recourse.)

An engine Lieutenant was hunkered down just inside the room, asking in the most polite manner possible if “anyone in this goddamned fucking place” had a hoseline. Two hard taps on his shoulder spun him around to face me, where I waddled over with a nozzle and a couple extra feet of hose, looped into a circle beside me.

“That’ll do!” After pointing out several holes in the floor—the largest of which he had laid his halligan bar over—we settled against the wall and I opened the nozzle with a satisfying whoosh.

Here, there, and everywhere; the orange that had once sat atop us gave way to a humid gray fog that sank to our level. Several minutes later, it was all over, and I directed a slightly-wider fog stream out the back window to draw the smoke out.

I’ll have to admit that it felt damned good to get some water on a fire again. We run our medicals, we ride our ambulances… but we want nothing more than that irreplaceable, unparalleled, and undeniably satisfying feeling of going to a good fire.

And everybody's got time for that.

—————

A few more notes about the flashlight that survived the treatment I gave it: you can see in the following photos that it took quite the beating; there's debris and soot coating it from front to back, and the lens area is filled with all manner of gunk. The photo below is immediately following the fire, taken while I was removing my gear beside the engine.

This is one bruiser of a flashlight; I’d highly recommend it with one tiny change: please make another model that has connection points both fore and aft, as well as a button just behind the head of the light (like where a MagLite sits); that way I can turn it on easily and sling it over my shoulder like a typical firefighting handlight without having to cobble together some parts to make a strap.

Oh, and the knife has held up extremely well, for all knife-related things I’ve had to do (as I said, it became my every-day-carry while at work, and I have had no problems with it. I even had it clipped onto the same leather strap that the flashlight was on, and it survived well without falling off or becoming damaged.

All in all? A damned fine job, Coast. I love the products… you should definitely send me more stuff to abuse!

This is clipped directly from Gawker, as I could see no other way to explain this story or offer any further commentary. There are just no words. 

Except, perhaps: "…seriously?"

Man in Kentucky Arrested for Breaking Into Firehouse, Allegedly Masturbating On Firemen’s Gear

 

A source provided me with the following email, sent to the subscribers of change.org (a for-profit organization that seeks to "empower anyone, anywhere to start, join, and win campaigns for social change.") As reported by NBC on 9 February, Durand Ford, Jr. received an almost $800 bill for Emergency Medical Services from the District, even after his father had died waiting thirty-three minutes for an ambulance on New Year's Eve. In his anger and frustration, Durand Jr. is requesting that DC Fire & EMS rescind the bill—especially since the ambulance that actually arrived to his home was a Prince George's County unit, dispatched from a the Maryland suburb of Oxon Hill. 

The petition is concise, and is listed in its entirety below. It would appear that Durand, Jr. is not seeking any further action, compensation, or redress besides the elimination of the bill. According to change.org at the time of this writing, 135,905 supporters have signed the petition.

I'd love to hear from some strong opinions on this one. Would you sign it? Does he have a case for this, or anything further? I'm looking at you, FireLaw!

—————

 

Happy New Year to everyone… here's to a safe and exciting 2013!

I'm starting my year off nicely; you gotta love getting some new gear to use and abuse on the job, right? I've been offered an opportunity to test out an LED flashlight and a pocketknife from COAST, a Portland, OR -based company who specialty is—you guessed it—flashlights and knives. Apparently, they've been producing knives since 1919 (originally COAST Cutlery Company, offering edged tools to farmers and ranch hands in the Pacific Northwest), and now it's my turn to try and beat 'em up.

First up is the Rapid Response 3.00, a spring-assisted folder with a secondary lock on the handle, something I've never had in a knife before. The sliding thumb tab allows you to lock the blade in position whether open or closed, essentially keeping it from popping open in your pocket or from closing when you don't want it to. Seems a bit redundant for a blade that already has a liner lock, but I kind of see the appeal.

Weight: 104g, by my measure.

Length: 3.00" blade / 7" opened / 4" closed

Steel: no indicator of this stamped on the blade itself, but the website lists it as "5Cr15Mov." For any metal junkies out there, that's a Chinese-made stainless steel with chromium, molybdenum, vanadium, and manganese (and a few others) tossed into the mix. Rockwell hardness scale is about a 55-57, which I would call about standard for knives and metal generally intended for moderate use. It should hold an edge for some time, but I wouldn't want it to be a drawn-out pain in the ass to sharpen, either. We'll see about that.

Handle material: "fiberglass-filled textured nylon," says the website. Not sure how they do that, but the material itself is grippy without catching in a pocket while dry—unfortunately, all grip retention goes out the window when wet. I'd be concerned using this heavily while wearing gloves, but again, we shall see. Bonus points to Coast for utilizing the main pivot point to add a subtle Maltese cross to the overall design of the knife.

Pros: Thin-bodied, doesn't cause any uncomfortable edges or bulkiness when in a pocket. The clip is very strong, requiring a greater-than-usual effort to remove it from your pocket, which I like (because I drop stuff all the time). Opens quickly and decisively with an audible snap, letting you know it's locked and ready. Internal mechanism appears well-made, with no perceptible wiggle or "loose" feeling in any moving parts. It arrived razor-sharp right out of the box, requiring no additional tooling or honing on my part. Thumb studs are strong and accessible from both sides, for you lefties, and the knurled grips and handle cutaways are in all the right spots to make the knife sit well in your hand when open.

Cons: The handle, as I said, is slippery when wet. The photo below shows that the chamfers on the spine have been ground a little bit unevenly—not really a cause for alarm, as I wouldn't expect this to affect the performance in any way, but I am a stickler for build quality and craftsmanship. If you're willing to sell an item with a visible flaw right out of the box, what other corners might have been cut in the manufacturing? In November of 2011, Coast posited that the Rapid Response series might be "the best blade-assist knives ever manufactured" (source).

Price: $40.00 at LightsAndKnives, Coast's preferred vendor.

 

—————

Next item up for abuse is: the HP14 focusing LED flashlight. Unlike the Mag-Lites I grew up with, the focusing mechanism of this beam will never have you accidentally twisting the head of the light clean off if you're in a hurry. The "slide-focus" feature simply has you extend or retract the head by pulling or pushing on it. Additionally, the head locks in place with a simple twist, so if you're really pressed to keep that beam focused, no worries. I'm not sure if the lock is necessary, but Coast seems to have a trend with locking things in place. Who knows, maybe I'll drop it one day and curse the heavens because I have to re-focus the light. Shoulda used the lock, dude.

Weight: 396g / 13.96oz., by my measure. Just under a pound, and you can definitely tell the second you pick it up.

Length: Anywhere from 8 1/4" to 8 3/4", depending on the slide-focus position.

Material/case: Aluminum casing with a rubberized O-ring for waterproofing. The lanyard hole also serves as an anti-roll device, which works surprisingly well. It comes with a velcro belt case—which I doubt I'll be using—that seems to hold and protect the light snugly.

Batteries: 4 AAs, mounted in a slide-out tray. There's a high- and low-output mode for this light, toggled with the sole switch on the butt of the handle. Battery life is given as almost 5 hours on "high," 20 hours on "low."

Light output and beam distance: This is a damned powerful light. Beam distances are given when the light has been focused to its smallest spot area. High-output: 339 lumens, with a max reach of 574ft. Low-output is 56 lumens, with a max reach of 118ft.

Pros: This thing feels like a tool when you pick it up. Or a weapon. Maybe both. It's heavy enough, and robust enough when you wield it, that I can't see being able to do much to it except taking off some of the black paint. The LED is touted as "unbreakable," and I hope the waterproofing/impact resistance will prove itself. The on/off button is rubberized, and offers just the right amount of resistance so that I wouldn't struggle to turn it on in a hurry (conversely, nor would I be concerned about it turning on by accident in a bag or pocket). The light output is stunning, and I look forward to using it in some crappy situations.

Cons: The knurled body is stylish-looking, but the knurls themselves are too small to do anything in the way of grippy-ness. The weight, while nice to have if you really had to smash a window or swing this bad boy as a weapon, is a bit much for an everyday carry. Also, the button-on-the-back styling is good if you can hold the entire light in your hand (like a penlight, or smaller. I have a small Streamlight that takes two AAA batteries that I carry with me all the time, and the button-on-the-back is perfect for your thumb). But for a longer/heavier light, turning the light on and then holding it in a balanced position of utility requires re-positioning your hand, unlike a Mag-Lite style that keeps the button under your finger when you're holding it in a useful grip. Knowwhattamean? Call me nuts, but I notice these little design decisions.

All in all, I don't see too much that could actually go wrong with this item (famous last words, eh?) It's fairly straightforward, so we'll see how it holds up.

Price: $65.00, also from LightsAndKnives.com.

—————

Again, Happy New Year, everyone! Be safe, have fun, and maybe a few of us will even get a couple fires under our belt this year (doesn't happen often, but there's always hope; just trying to keep fire in my life, as Ray McCormack was wont to say.)

/RL

Sure, it's not as multi-function as some items (remember the Bowring Fire Tool?).

It's not as gadget-y as a newfangled door chock design.

Hell, it's not even as DIY-and-practical as some of the widgets on VentEnterSearch's "What's In Your Pockets?" page.

But it's damned cool, and I'm kicking myself for not thinking of it first.

—————

Station Supply Co. has a wide variety of colors and prints from all manners of hose, and I think they've done a pretty snazzy job of it. It doesn't seem like there'd be much in the way of edge protection, but it would certainly make an iPhone less slippery when you're holding it.

I'm still facepalming over this one. This could have been my big kickstarter campaign, you never know!

Damn.

I've been enjoying a bit of time off from work lately, so I've been thinking a lot but unfortunately have not been exposed to too much industry news lately. Normally, bullshitting with the fellas (i.e. the oldest tradition in the fire department) is my news source, along with my cohorts on FireEMSBlogs.com. Either way, it's refreshing to come back into the mix and see some exciting proceedings in the works. More on that later, but not before I can gather more information.

/RL

—————

Just when I thought I'd missed it (I know, I'm a bad fireman, I guess), BURN returns! I'm traveling this weekend, so I'll catch it next week in Georgetown. I haven't read anything about it—specifically to keep myself in the dark—so I'm excited to see what Denis Leary and Tom Putnam have in store for me.

 

Also, don't miss out on extra footage: available for digital download are 80 extra minutes (2gb of video) that didn't make the final cut. Only $15 bucks, and it's a great way to support BURN and watch some (surely) cool stuff.

(Not sure how I missed this one from over a month ago, but here it is anyway. Thanks to Reddit's /r/firefighting page for helping me out!)

Erin Cox, of The Baltimore Sun, covered a "Fire Ops 101" course in late September in Maryland's Anne Arundel County. The purpose was to put council chairs and other "lawmakers" into the very situations that county firefighters experience—all while having their budgets slashed and their manpower reduced. Humping hose up flights of stairs, crawling through pitch darkness, vehicle extrication; no scenario was avoided, and each participant was warned by Division Chief Keith Swindle that "…I'm not going to coddle you" while they did it.

"I knew it was going to be tough, but this is 10 times harder than I thought," [AA County Council Chairman Derek] Fink said. “It made me appreciate the shortage of manpower they have,” [Councilman Peter] Smith said. "When me and Derek were going through that building looking for people, it wasn't enough. You just need more people."

A few lines from the article struck me as rather poignant:

• "…how budget cuts have sapped morale…"
• "…Fire Chief John Robert Ray said that to help balance the budget, the county cut 75 vacant jobs in the Fire Department, enough to eliminate a shift of firefighters. For now, the county has been paying overtime to fill the vacant spots."

Sounds a bit familiar.

Apparently, Anne Arundel isn't the only county with progressive enough administrators to participate. According to the article, "…it follows jurisdictions across the country that launched the program designed by [IAFF]. This year, firefighters have hosted politicians in Omaha, Neb., Memphis, Tenn., and Denver. In May, Howard and Prince George's county executives, along with some other elected officials, completed a "Fire Ops 101" in College Park."

I would love to see this become a reality in Washington, D.C. I know I'm certainly proud of my city—but would our government officials let themselves be bested by those in charge of the surrounding counties?

—————

Full article here (it's a great read, especially what some of the firefighters had to say). All direct quotations Copyright © 2012, The Baltimore Sun.

I was fortunate enough to be working on Wednesday, October 11th, when the U.S. Army hosted a wide variety of agencies and organizations to take part in the Capital Shield Drill—in no other location than our very own DCFD Training Academy in Southwest Washington.

As you can see by the image below, the Technical Rescue Operations that we (members of Rescue Company 3 and Engine 15) took part in was only a small portion of the military's agenda for Capital Shield.

Please note the most excellent graphic logo at the top of the page—no, not the overly wordy "National Capital Region" one. The sword crossing the Washington Monument is the shoulder sleeve insignia of the Military District of Washington, headquartered at Ft. McNair on the confluence of the Potomac and Anacostia Rivers. A military base for more than 200 years, Ft. McNair is bested in length-of-service by only the military academy at West Point and the U.S. Army War College's Carlisle Barracks in Pennsylvania. A few months back, we ran a box alarm for a reported fire in one of the (many) huge mansions maintained by the Army for various high-ranking officers (including the Army's Vice-Chief of Staff, the position of which is afforded a permanent residence within Ft. McNair). It's a beautifully-maintained, expansive space that is quite clearly military residences. I would have taken pictures, but you know how those Army fellas can be about cameras…

Either way, the scenario for this year's drill was the following: The eponymous "Capital Hotel" was the target of a bombing and subsequent collapse. This produced a large rubble pile (including debris from the parking structure for the hotel), within which lay several viable victims. Four entry points were available—according to the Army's plan—and there were "spotters" all over the site to direct rescuers who had any questions or requested any clarification regarding the scenario and our limitations within.

Enjoy the pictures and captions below!

/RL

What remains of the Capital Hotel.

 

There was definitely some creative forklifting/machinery work done here.

 

Planning is crucial, both on the part of the "rescuers" and the organizers. Each bit of progress required constant vigilance to ensure that the scenario would continue as planned—otherwise, a new approach would need to be formulated.

 

The fluorescent yellow band indicated a spotter who watched for safety hazards and ensured that the participants followed the rules/limitations of the give scenario.

 

Lt. Chris Holmes and Cazo (who you may remember from this post, when they were deployed to Haiti) were some of the first DCFD members "on-scene," searching for and marking locations of potential victims while the technical rescue team examined the rubble.

 

Initial victims were able to be removed after only a bit of work with hand tools and shovels, as they were located toward the outskirts of the pile. Victims deeper within would have to wait until a more intensive plan was devised, ensuring the safety of victims and rescuers alike.

 

DCFD's entry point was a concrete tube with an approximately two-foot interior diameter. Throughout the tube, several obstacles of varying materials had been placed, forcing rescuers to breach through several levels before reaching victims.

 

Inter-agency drills afford different departments the ability to check out what gear their neighbors are using. The Army's own had quite the assortment, obsessively organized (as only the military can do).

 

Other entry points into the rubble pile (and the victims that lie beneath) were under or through concrete, requiring creative use of levers. (Author's note: I got a very "Iwo Jima" vibe from this photo as the men pictured struggled to raise a large slab of concrete, I enjoyed shooting it and trying to grab that moment in time.)

 

One of the more interesting points of entry was through the floor of a vehicle on its side. Following the breach of the floorboards, victims had been placed several meters down a long, rectangular concrete tunnel seen extending off the left side of the photo.

 

"Whose turn is it to be the man-in-the-hole?"

 

At any given time, there were dozens of rescuers working on and around the pile. Simultaneously, multiple organizations were operating pneumatic chisels, electric saws, cutting torches, and countless other tools.

 

There's nothing like lunch on a rubble pile, right?

 

When it was determined that the oxyacetylene torch would be necessary for [DCFD's] entry point, rescuers in the hole had a four-gas meter clipped to them and a ventilation fan blowing fresh air into the tube while they were operating.

 

Author's note: one of the reasons I love this job is because I get to play with (and perhaps, one day, become proficient with) tools and toys that I would never have encountered or even touched otherwise. Before I came on the job, I had never even seen an oxyacetylene torch in operation—before I had finished my probation, I was cutting sloppy "E15"s into an old scrap of I-beam. After lunch, our team had to cut through a panel of Conex box/shipping container that stood between us and a victim. I crawled in that surprisingly-small tube and cut out a good portion of the double-walled steel, reluctantly giving up the torch only when the officers told someone else to take a turn. I have to say, it's a different experience doing something like that in a cramped space, as opposed to having all the room in the world.

 

8 a.m. to about 5 p.m. proved to be a very long day. But the punishment didn't stop there—after packing up all the equipment we had laid out and used all day, back we went to Southeast. We ran calls for the rest of the night, with concrete dust on our uniforms and smiles on our faces. Tired, but more learned and feeling like we put in a good days' work.

 

My wife brought something to my attention the other day that made the color drain from my face. I began to research it, and this sensation transformed into sheer terror.

According to Urgent Communications Magazine online, Durham, NC has officially made texting 911 a reality.

Yes, that's right. Texting.

Holy shit.

How this escaped my radar, I'm not sure (Rocco, I'm looking at you). Apparently, this has been in the works for over a year, says Gizmodo. However, Verizon has been running this particular pilot/trial program in North Carolina for the past year, and has decided to continue the "text-to-911" offering for all of their providers within the Durham area.

James Soukup, the director of the Durham Emergency Communications Center (ECC), went on record for Urgent Communications, saying:

"It’s definitely not going to be a burden on any 911 center anywhere, because the public is smart enough not to text you for things you need an emergency [voice call] for."

Seriously? What kind of people live in Durham? I need to move there; and if they're that smart, MENSA headquarters should relocate as well. I don't know, Mr. Soukup; maybe it wasn't advertised well enough, or perhaps there aren't that many system-abusers in Durham. (In the same article, Soukup admitted the possibility "…that Durham’s low number of texts to 911 can be attributed to the fact that many people still are not used to having the option.")

I don't see this ending well for major urban areas. The call takers (not to mention us folks responding to the actual "emergencies") are overloaded enough, and you'd like to add texting to it?

Talk about upping the public's convenience level, and lowering the amount of information received by dispatch.

A point I will concede: yes, it would be a lifesaver if there was any situation in which speaking aloud is either not feasible (mute/deaf individuals), or unsafe (your hostage takers probably don't want to see you on the phone, and I doubt they'd believe you were calling your great-aunt Edith).

The only saving grace, however, could be the prohibitive cost of building this capability into an already-existing response system. John Merklinger, president of the New York State 911 Coordinator's Association, estimates that purchasing and maintaining the current software could cost a single county up to $150,000 per year (via WNYT).

Now there's something you don't see on every run.

As my helmet cleared the front of my face and plopped onto my noggin, I could make out a figure frantically waving his arms like spastic semaphore in the middle of the street. Between the intermittent strobe of the lights and the irregular air horn blasts, I could barely make out "OVER THERE! IT'S OVER THERE!" as I popped the engine's door open and hopped out.

It was 1:30 a.m. Little did I know that I wouldn't be back in the firehouse until almost five hours later.

—————
 

The squad guys were already hightailing it up the walkway of a three-story garden-style apartment building, the furthest one back in a horseshoe layout. Trailing by only seconds—delayed by our need to bring a hoseline—the lineman and I shortly found ourselves in their wake, each with a shoulderful of 1-1/2". My bottle smacked against my lower back as I ran; this particular address was so close to the firehouse that I didn't have a chance to secure the waist belt properly, and it flailed awkwardly like a short, heavy tail. I didn't notice it for too long, though, because I could see the large bay windows of the stairwell starting to fill with smoke as the rescue company began forcing doors.

"3B" appeared in front of my face quickly, despite the three flights of stairs. We were actually riding heavy that night, so there was a fifth man on the engine who was helping to back up the lineman and flake out the hose properly. I found a quick respite in kneeling down to mask up, so I decided that I'd finally connect my waist belt (there was no way I could have known, however, that this was going to cause hilarity. More on that later.)

A good layout man is usually too concerned with working his ass off outside the apartment or structure to be inside having a good time. That fun is reserved for the officer and the lineman, who are too busy with other stuff to worry about having enough line. This is where I came in, and tonight was no exception. Thankfully, due to the extra man on the engine, four hands were doing the job of two, and I was eventually able to make it all the way to the apartment door with one small loop of hose on hand, should my guys need it.

Chris turned around in the smoke ahead of me, and mustered enough volume to come through his facepiece loud and clear:

"DO NOT LET ANYONE THROUGH THAT DOOR."

I gave him a thumbs-up and hunkered myself in the doorway. It wasn't that wide of an opening, anyways; pack-rat conditions in the apartment only allowed the door to about three-quarters of fully open. Giving a quick glance behind me (all clear!), I leaned my way into the apartment and tore into the pile of debris behind the door. Even if someone had already looked back there, I figured it couldn't hurt.

Phew, no bodies—back to the doorway.

Another quick look behind me now revealed a bunch of third-due guys sitting idly, performing the rough firefighting equivalent of thumb-twiddling. They knew that most of my firehouse was already in the apartment, knocking the fire and tearing down ceilings. A few half-assed "…come on, man, get outta the way!" shouts came from behind me, but I stayed firm, and tossed back a cheery "Yeah, yeah, we got it. Don't worry about it." We didn't need to go bringing even more of our shit into a tiny apartment full of someone else's shit. I held fast.

What felt like mere seconds later, I felt a sensation I haven't experienced since this fire, the big 'un I had while I was in probation at Engine 26.* I lurched backwards as if pulled by a big invisible rope attached to my spine.

Aw, dammit. I know what's about to happen.

I made a last-ditch attempt to grab the inside of the doorway and hold on for dear life, but no dice. As I was pulled from the doorway, I saw the shadow of a big MF'r (that's a technical term) behind me. He had me by my SCBA cylinder; grabbing the shoulder straps up top, and the valve assembly on bottom. I was now about as useful as a turtle picked up by my shell. I couldn't hold onto the hoseline, because I'd pull it backwards from my guys inside; my sole plan of action was to follow along as I went up, over, and back down about two feet from where I was (writer's note: thank you for not throwing me down the stairs). I scrambled to regain my post, but by then it was too late; the floodgates had opened; the castle walls were breached; the apartment began to fill with bodies.

After a little while, the fire was knocked, and companies started to go home. Unfortunately, that fire turned out to be a fatal; there was an elderly woman inside the apartment who was unable to make it out before she succumbed to smoke inhalation. A few companies stayed on-scene, performing overhaul and waiting until ATF, our own fire investigators, and the Medical Examiner had completed their work. The sun was coming up as we undertook our last task: to bring the body out. Six firefighters (myself included) squeezed themselves down the three flights of stairs, wrestling with a six-handled black nylon bag. Three awkward turns and a few pinched fingers later, we set the bag on the ME's wheeled cot and trudged back to the apparatus.

Our gear smelled great—we did not. Everyone's relief had arrived by the time we backed into the firehouse, but their envy was returned only by glassy stares of sleeplessness.

I drove home shirtless, not particularly eager to rub my sweat-soaked t-shirt all over my wife's new car. The sun was really up now, and I dug for my sunglasses with one hand while I snapped the radio on with the other. Strains of Creedence Clearwater Revival filled V St SE as I pulled into the beaming sunlight.

"…you say that you'll be mine, baby, all the time… Susie Q…"

—————

Re-reading it now, I can't believe I left the "useless turtle" moment out of the Engine 26 story linked above. However belated it may be: thanks to some big sonofabitch riding on Rescue 2 that day. Ya bastard.

Let this story mark my return from a good, much-needed hiatus. It felt nice to just drop off the grid for a while, see some family, and take some time for myself. Sorry there wasn't any notice, but yes, I'm alive, and back in the game.

—RL

 

You can't help but have some love for the home team, especially when one of the favorites has expressed his off-season desire to "get my EMT [certification] and do the firefighter thing so I have something to fall back on."

In an online chat hosted by Washington Post Sports, Harper told fans that "I'd probably be a firefighter. Ever since I was growing up, I wanted to be a firefighter or a baseball player." Way to pick the easier one, Bryce! Now the rest should be cakewalk, compared to wrestling your way up into the Majors before you even turn twenty years old—you've got plenty of time to become the other kind of rookie.

Let me get this straight. Not that I'm discouraging his thoughts, by any means—but with eight homers, fourteen doubles, and four triples (plus a rack of other equally-impressive stats), that's quite noble of you. Especially for a 19-year-old, many of whom we've all seen fall victim to a lack of planning for the future.

Good on ya, Bryce. Next time you get a break, come say hi to our guys working coverage at the ballpark. We'd be happy to tell you all about our Department… or you can just read the news, we're usually in there for something new every day (sheesh).

[via Yahoo! News]

The AP was feeling sassy enough to put this photo illustration together, which was the inspiration for the photo at the top. How'd I do, compared to the worldwide wire service?

(© AP, BLS Illustration)

A few weeks ago, I had the extreme privilege of meeting Robin Sorenson, the founder of Firehouse Subs. Robin and his brother, Chris are both former Jacksonville firefighters, self-made businessmen, and unabashed “foodies” who founded the restaurant chain in 1994 (on a mother-in-law's credit card, no less!) In the space of eighteen years, the two have expanded their business to an impressive 505 stores throughout 29 states.

Myself and several other DC-area bloggers were invited to the Annadale location—actually the 500th store, interestingly enough—for a meet & greet, some lively chat about the brand as a whole, and (most importantly!) some seriously good sandwiches.

Robin's explanation of how he builds each sandwich was mouthwatering, even before we started. A nitpicky guy by nature, he refuses to relinquish control of any aspect of his stores or his subs. Every photo shoot, every tabletop pattern, every sub name and nature must at least cross his desk for an okay before anything is put into production.

"When I build one of these sandwiches, and I want to put it on the menu, I really don't consider the cost of making it. I never have; each sandwich is just built from what I think will be the tastiest ingredients for the concept, and then we work out how much it will be. I don't ever compromise on quality."

And it shows. (If only the guys at my firehouse could cook like this!) The menu is here; we were given the opportunity to try five different sandwiches, all of which were melty, cheesy, saucy goodness. The secret? The ingredients are paired together and heated up in a steamer, keeping everything moist before it even goes on the bread.

My favorite: The New York Steamer, a beef brisket/pastrami combo topped with melted provolone.

Oh, and speaking of sauce: my favorite part was a pepper sauce, proprietary to Firehouse, that comes in an awesome hydrant-shaped jar. Named for Chris and Robin's father, a 43-year-veteran of the Jacksonville Fire Department, Capt. Sorensen's Pepper Sauce is made from Datil peppers, a Carribbean native that shares the heat level of a habanero with a slightly fruitier kick. (This author has personally put it on pretty much every food imaginable, and has not yet been disappointed. Pizza is especially awesome.)

Their father's shield adorns the label of the pepper sauce that bears his name.

Lastly, and most importantly: Robin and Chris have not forgotten their roots in the fire department. In 2005, the two brothers started the Public Safety Foundation. Taken from the website:

The Public Safety Foundation is dedicated to better equip, educate, and fund public safety entities. …Many first responders are forced to make do with older equipment and have limited access or no access to available resources. Our goal is to ensure that we are able to impact local communities by providing fire departments, law enforcement and EMS with the tools, technology and training they need.

In order to accomplish its mission, the Firehouse Subs Public Safety Foundation plans to provide:

     • Emergency service entities with life-saving equipment

     • Prevention and educational tools to the public about the importance of fire safety and natural disaster preparedness.

     • Financial resources to individuals pursuing a career in the public safety sector through a scholarship program for future firefighters and law enforcement, as well as continued education and training.

     • Ground assistance after natural disasters by feeding victims and first responders on the scene.

Robin related that the Foundation has provided everything from thermal imaging cameras to meals for Katrina victims, and has been steadily growing since its inception. To date, the Foundation has raised approximately $5.5 million dollars for organizations and citizens across the nation.

Their most popular item? The bright red pickle buckets that are for sale in the store, as seen in the first photo. Once the 300-odd pickles that are contained within are depleted, the buckets are rinsed and sold for charity at $2 a pop; Francisco Tuttle, a man whose life was saved when his local fire department utilized a Zoll monitor provided by the Foundation, said that "…a Pickle Bucket saved my life!"

All in all, it was a wonderful evening, and my wife and I left well-stuffed with delicious sandwiches. Now, the contest portion! As part of the dinner, I was given five $10 gift cards to give to my readers for promotional purposes.

 

The first five readers who email me a picture of themselves at a Firehouse Subs location will win a $10 gift card! I'll post a bunch of the pictures here, too, so feel free to get creative (bonus points if you park your apparatus outside the store!)

 

Find a location here and give it a try. I bet you'll love it, and I can't wait for those photos!

/RL

—————

Unrelated to subs, but equally as exciting: I know I left everyone hanging, but I just moved into my first house and this last month has been nuts. Yes, I won the bike I was vying for! Myself and six other cyclists from around the US were chosen as Foundry's first brand reps/sponsored riders, and it feels good. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EACH AND EVERY READER WHO VOTED. I couldn't have done it without you! I just built my new bike last night and took a few photos, if anyone's interested. Click on the image below for a full album.

I'm a finalist in an amazing competition to become a sponsored athlete/brand rep for Foundry Cycles, a newly-minted (hah!) bicycle manufacturer in Minnesota. Their ethos is solid, their bikes are sexy, and I need your help to win! Vote for Alex Capece (use the little blue "Log In to Facebook" button if you need to, then scroll down—I'm in the Northeast division); then, feel free to read my competition profile page where they asked me a bunch of fun questions.

—————

Yes, I know I've been bugging everyone about this, but I promise you won't hear any more about it after this month. The last time I actually called upon the readership was back in 2009, when I asked for help regarding my video entry to Nikon's "A Day Through Your Lens" competition. Remember this old video?

(Still can't embed the damn things. I think I'm just techno-stoopid.)

Earlier this month, my entry essay to Foundry Cycles' Tradesman competition landed me squarely in a field of fifteen finalists, all of whom are scaring up as many votes as they can until the contest ends on April 30th. The top prize (of which five will be awarded) is a brand-spankin' new Foundry Bicycle of your choosing and a one year sponsored rider/athlete contract. It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance for everyone who made the cut, and we need all the help we can get until the end of the month!

—————

No catches, no strings, no email addresses given, and no firstborn children sworn away. All you have to do is vote on Foundry's website, but you need to log in to Facebook to do it.

The voting link takes you to the page with all fifteen finalists' pictures. Unless you're already logged into Facebook on your computer, you probably won't see little white "vote" buttons beneath our faces. No worries; just click on the little blue "Log In to Facebook" button up near the top of the page, beneath the white text. It will redirect you through Facebook and back to the page with all of us, where you will then be able to vote for whoever you want!

I've made a little infographic explanation below, if anyone needs any help. Click on it to make it larger.

Vote for me, obviously; but if you feel remiss not adding a vote to the other regions after you help me out, consider spending four more clicks of your mouse to vote down the "straight ticket" we've cobbled together (thanks to Patrick Harrington).

I know we'll all appreciate the help! Plus, some of the voting margins for these buddies above are very tight, and I'm sure they're spending many a sleepless night struggling for each and every vote. Help them out!

Many thanks to Pete Sulzer of ELAFFHQ.com and Dave Statter for helping to spread the word. I'll have more to report come April 30th, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

/RL

(Someone needs to make this in a carbon disc wheel.)

A 300mm lens and a tripod can go a long way… but just like real estate, it's all about location. I bet the Mall or Gravelly Point didn't offer this view…

More to come later.

/RL

Image © RaisingLadders Photography, 2012. Reproduction without permission is strictly prohibited.

 

 

Dave Statter was kind enough to let me know about this, and I wanted to spread the word on RL, among other things.

The National Fallen Firefighter's Foundation is hosting a 9-11 Memorial Stairclimb at the Capital Hilton (1919 Connecticut Ave NW) in Washington, D.C. on April 25th. Registration link is here, and the fee is $25. All are welcome to join, firefighters or the general public!

Bring your bunker gear, run it in PT gear, it doesn't matter! The important thing is that all proceeds benefit the FDNY's Counseling Services Unit to help families and colleagues of those lost on September 11th.

It's a great event for a great cause, so come out and have a blast with your friendly Capital firefighters!

Dear readers:

Foundry Cycles is a bicycle manufacturing company based out of Bloomington, MN. From the company directly, regarding their recent contest:

"Foundry Cycles is looking for five brand ambassadors, Foundry Tradesmen and women, to ride our bikes and document their experiences. If you're chosen, you'll be given a Foundry bike. In return, you'll spend the year talking to people about your Foundry. Go on rides, take it to races, local events, coffee shops, the grocery store, your local bike shop—everywhere you'd normally take your bike. Answer questions about it. Tell people what you think of it. Let them take it for a spin. Throw on a helmet cam and send us video of your adventures. Write up your experiences. You'll have to earn your keep, but if you work as hard as you play, then you're right for Foundry."

This is my entry—submitted this 30th day of March, 2012. Wish me luck.

 - RL

—————

Dammit.

I cursed as the tire lever slipped, and I bashed my knuckles against the cassette. Glancing down, I could just barely see the blood beginning to collect by the desolate yellow glow in which I was forced to work.

Looking up and stretching a sore back, I made a personal decree that I would get my next flat tire in front of a brighter sign. The proud, canary-yellow rectangle that proclaimed Morgan’s Fish Fry to be “Black Owned, Family Operated” left something to be desired in the way of illumination.

What the hell am I doing, I thought dejectedly. (I have this thought about once a month, for various reasons.) It’s almost six in the morning, and I’m at a deserted intersection in Southeast D.C. Okay, so there’s that other guy over there, but I’ve picked him up in the ambulance before—I’m pretty sure he’s zonked out on heroin.

I was riding the streets of the city to familiarize myself with alleyways, side streets, major buildings, and unusual addresses; but my morning workout/educational experience was going to be cut short today. As I chuckled to myself about comedian Chris Rock’s routine about what happens on MLK Jr. Avenue in every city, I silently thanked my now-torn inner tube for making it this far. I wasn’t more than a few blocks from the firehouse, and my shift was starting soon. In the pre-dawn darkness, the only sound in Anacostia was the crisp clicking of my cleats as I navigated the neglected sidewalk.

In June of 2008, I moved to Washington after an eager and hurried post-college application to the District of Columbia Fire Department. After a short period of tortuous waiting to “get on the job,” as they say, I entered the fire academy that very December. Today, my length of service with the District government stands at just over three years.

My short career has brought me all over the sixty-nine square miles that encompass our nation’s capitol, working in all four quadrants and damn near every one of the thirty-three firehouses dotting our diamond-shaped city. My original appointment was to a location in Northeast Washington, where I learned about the crowded violence of a Go-Go club and the peaceful slumber of a heroin overdose. The move to the big leagues, however, was my eventual transfer to a firehouse in the Southeast quadrant. In the notoriously violent and fiscally-depressed area east of the Anacostia River, I was taught the finer points of PCP-induced manic ranting (both with and without physical altercations), as well as the strange things one will shout when there’s a knife sticking out of your spine or a bullet in your left ass-cheek. Gunshots, vicious assaults, heart attacks, suicides, “intentional vehicular contact,” you name it—Southeast had it.

And I loved it.

Every shift brings twenty-four straight hours of uncertainty and excitement.  As a firehouse staffed with fourteen bodies, Engine Company 15 and Rescue Squad 3 spend 25% of our waking lives together. While on duty, we train, we cook, we bullshit, we laugh, and we work our asses off. We’re one of the busiest firehouses in the Department, and we’re tasked with knowing this city—our city—like the backs of our well-worn hands.

I’ve been writing about my experiences since I entered the Training Academy years ago. The links provided throughout this essay are to my personal firefighting blog, RaisingLadders. I was selected several ago to be a contributor to FireEMSBlogs.com (a successful industry blog aggregate geared towards the emergency responders of the world), and I have been faithfully writing and recording my experiences ever since. Additionally, I was recently selected as a customer testimonial for RoadID, tying together my experiences as an emergency responder, husband, runner, and cyclist.

As a firefighter and paramedic, I continually serve the citizens in any multitude of emergency situations. The one thing that I will always need to do my job successfully is to have access to the proper tools. We use tools for extinguishment and tools for demolition. We use tools for giving medications and tools for shocking someone’s heart back to life. I agree very strongly with Foundry’s mission that bicycles should be tools, and I’m constantly using and testing everything that is made available to me. Another thing you’ll learn about most firemen: our job isn’t what you’d call lucrative, and so most of us have a part-time job. I pad my income (and feed my addiction) as an employee at the best-reviewed bike shop in our fine city, BicycleSPACE.

For four amazing years, I have lived and worked in one of the greatest cities in the world.  I know this place, in more ways than most citizens or commuters can imagine. I've worked in the firehouses and the bike shops; I’ve been to the large-scale training drills and the group rides; I’ve explored the back alleys and the bike paths. I assure you that this bike will never hang on a wall, unloved and unridden. I appreciate the function, utility, durability, and form of every tool I use in my journey, and I like to push the limits of each and every one. In a city like this, everyone is always looking for the next best thing. Foundry is it—and I want to be the one to tell them all about you.

Earlier this month, the National Awareness Director of the Mesothelioma Center (out of Orlando, FL) and the team at Asbestos.com contacted me, asking if I would be interested in a guest post regarding the dangers of working in an asbestos-rich environment, as we are sometimes called upon to do in cities with older construction. The asbestos within may not have been abated properly, and so can still pose a significant risk to firefighters not only making entry for firefighting operations, but for any other purpose that may disturb asbestos still in place. Many thanks to Danielle DiPietro for putting this together, and to Tim Povtak for his writing. It's great to see people reaching out to emergency responders to educate everyone about these dangers!

     —RL

—————

Risk of Asbestos Exposure among Firefighters

Asbestos exposure may not be the first thing on the mind of a firefighter when he arrives on a scene to find a structure going up in flames. But it's something to think about seriously.

Even though asbestos once was widely coveted as a building material for its heat resistance and fire-retardant qualities, it still breaks down under extremely high temperatures, sending its toxic, microscopic fibers into the air, putting everyone nearby at risk.

Although the use of asbestos has been dramatically reduced in recent decades, any buildings or residences built before 1980 are likely to have components of them that contain asbestos it. And the majority of the fires today in homes and businesses are in the older structures.

There is plenty of well-known danger in this admirable profession, but long-term health risks often are not considered when taking this job. An exposure to asbestos can lead to a number of respiratory illnesses, including lung cancer and rare mesothelioma cancer, which can have a latency period of up to 50 years.

Firefighters can be exposed to asbestos in roofing materials, pipe and duct insulation, floor and ceiling tiles, furnace gaskets and vinyl siding. Where there is smoke in the air, there could be asbestos dust and fibers.

These fibers are the danger. When inhaled, they can be difficult for a human body to get rid of. Instead, the fibers can lodge in the lining of the lungs and sit—for years—and eventually cause scarring or tumors.

This is where the use of proper respiratory equipment becomes vital to a fireman.  Equipment used by firefighters through the 1970s, including fire-resistant coats and helmets, often contained asbestos that was woven into the materials.

It isn't just the fires, either, that present the problem. Older firehouses, where firemen often are based, often contain asbestos, unless an official abatement has been done. In Lackawanna, N.Y., for example, firemen had to be evacuated from Fire House 3 when air samples there revealed dangerous amounts of asbestos in the dust they where they reported each day.

The city of Everett, Wash., settled a million dollar lawsuit with firefighters that stemmed from asbestos exposure during training sessions. As part of the training session, firefighters were working in soon-to-be-demolished buildings.

Because no fire was involved in one particular drill, no respiratory equipment was used, but it later was discovered there was plenty of asbestos in the dust within the building.

Much has been made of the firefighters and other first responders who arrived at the World Trade Center soon after the terrorist attacks on 9/11. In the 10-plus years afterward, firefighters now are discovering long-term, respiratory issues that have stemmed from the toxic dust that covered Manhattan for many days.

Bio: Tim Povtak is a senior writer for the Mesothelioma Center. He is a former award-winning journalist at a metropolitan American newspaper.

Last tour, I was fortunate enough to find myself in the middle of a drill with the guys from Rescue 1. Having found "The Bowring Fire Tool" on the internet, they had two of them on loan to play with, and were putting it through its paces. Heralded as "pound-for-pound, the most versatile fire tool ever," we set up a few scenarios and took some pictures and video footage for any interested parties.

According to the website, the functionality of the tool is as follows:

1. 1 1/2" pin lug spanner
2. 2 1/2" pin lug spanner / carabiner attachment
3. oxygen bottle valve wrench
4. "figure-8" section, usable in various rope scenarios
5. hose cradle, usable for 1" to 1 3/4" hose
6. spanner wrench tip
7. gas shut-off wrench
8. carabiner attachment point
9. Storz coupling notch
10. 2", 2 1/2", or 3" hose cradle
11. "RIT FF drag, glass ripper, and mattress hook" (their words, not mine)
12. water shut-off / optional gas shut-off

Our first scenario was the Nance Drill. A firefighter was placed below-grade with an approximately 4'x4' opening above him; a loop of charged hoseline was then inserted into the opening, allowing the "downed" firefighter to stand on the hose and be lifted up by two or more firefighters above him. Pictures do a better job of explaining it than I do, to be honest.

Normally, this difficult aspect of this drill lies in gripping the hoseline effectively while you're trying to lift the firefighter below. The Bowring Tool (utilizing feature #5 above) claims to allow firefighters to easily gain purchase on the hose and bring the downed firefighter up and out of the hole more quickly. We found that it works… sort of. The videos on the website show firefighters demonstrating the tool with a relatively dry hoseline, and it appears to work well. However, we chose to make the situation as close to actual conditions as we could, and soaked the hoseline with water before we attempted the drill; as you'll see in the following videos, the Bowring functioned more as a squeegee than a hose-gripper-thingee, as they claim.

 

The summary of our findings during the Nance Drill were:

• the hoseline needs to be pretty rigid for the tool to grip effectively. the 1 1/2" hoseline charged to 130 p.s.i. that we started with did not allow the tool's camming action to grip the hose properly—it more bent it than gripped it. Raising the engine pressure to 160 p.s.i. solved the problem.
• the more you can crank back on the tool while pulling, the better; most of the "squeegee" action you see in the videos was due to not bending the Bowring far back enough. It's something that can be learned after you do it a few times, but I wouldn't expect someone who's never used it before to know why this is important.
• a wet hoseline is definitely going to be more slippery than a dry one; unfortunately, your hoselines in these kind of situations will almost always be soaked, and there's no avoiding that. Maybe some knurling or other grippy stuff on the Bowring might help?

Long story short, the tool has its advantages. It's pretty neat that it incorporates multiple different functionalities into something that fits into your coat pocket; however, I'm always wary of the typical downfall of the "all-in-one" tool—it does lots of stuff pretty well, but nothing exceptionally well. The spanner wrenches/valve shut-offs are pretty standard, I wouldn't expect any difficulties there (and the tool appears to be sturdy and well-made). With a bit of practice, one can figure out the correct sequence of pulling/re-setting/pulling that works, but I certainly wouldn't trust someone unfamiliar or unpracticed with the device to use it effectively. Although, practice makes perfect with every tool. I'd be curious to see if it actually rips through drywall and siding as effectively as the testimonials on their website claim; another drill for another day, I suppose.

We did play around to find different uses for it; our most interesting discovery that we could use an uncharged hoseline (say, if we had a hose rack on our shoulder and were still making our way up in a high-rise) hitched through the tool as an effective hauling system for our man in the hole. Quick to set up, and our 1 1/2" hose fit through the largest hole in the Bowline fairly easily without any concern that it would slip or move while in operation. It gave us a large, serviceable hook that we could attach to multiple points on a firefighter in full SCBA.

Some of the Squad guys weren't thrilled about it, but I was fairly impressed. Call me young, or naive, or whatever—but I somewhat liked it. For $125, do you think it's worth it?

 

 

Yes, that's right. In D.C., of all places, two engine companies and a truck company extinguished about a half-acre of burning foliage in Southeast Washington earlier this year. Okay, so it wasn't actual wildland firefighting—but it's about as close as we'll get in an urban environment.

There's a big grouping of trees located behind a recreation center that is used more often than not as a dumping ground for stolen automobiles (which then usually end up on fire). Burned out car parts and chunks of rubber are everywhere. When Engine 32 responded for smoke in the area, I'm sure that's what they were expecting; it was surprising, I'm sure, to find out that the woods themselves were on fire this time.

Even just the small amount of shoveling, raking, and cutting that we had to do was pretty exhausting. That wildland stuff is for the birds; tell the guys out west that they can keep it. I'll take hydrants and hoselines over Pulaskis and shovels, thank you.

 

Lt. Alvarado rallies the troops before the press conference.

Firefighters utilized social networking (Twitter, Facebook et. al) to garner support and increased presence from members and non-members alike.

 

Members proudly wore garments with the "DCFD" logo, which have been outlawed by Department order. Uniform regulations have changed five times within the last calendar year.

Happy New Year to everyone—I'm glad to see that our little blue planet has made it another year without something truly awful happening, and for that I'm thankful.

Like I said back in March, I'm still a firm believer in "the best camera is the one that's with you." What good is $3,000 worth of camera gear if it's in your closet? It's been a good year, and I've definitely captured some moments. I present to you now my favorite images and photos of 2011 (don't forget about the most recent photo collection I posted just a short while ago!)

Here's to one hell of a 2012.

—————

I started off the year with some cool research (my welcome-to-2011 post from last year). It was pretty cool to find old maps of what DC looked like back when Engine 15 was founded, and seeing that some street names stuck around from 1898. The full post is available here, if you want more maps.

There were a couple of fires this year, too. This one was right around the corner… gotta love a first-due house fire to kick the year off. (As it turns out, I'm at work as I write this, and one of my good friends found himself up to his ass in this Northeast rowhouse just a few hours ago. Lucky bastard.)

It was a damn shame I was on an ambulance when this one came out around 3am one night. At least I was able to show up, help flake some hose, and snap a few pictures. The guys from Squad 3 told me that they had a good time on this one. Sheesh.

I helped out a few of the guys at the firehouse fix their bikes…

One of the darker moments of last year came when several guys from my house got burned up in one of the bigger fires of the year. Thankfully, they've all recovered wonderfully, and the firefighter who got it the worst is back to full duty.

The Andy Fredericks Training Days in Virginia was truly an eye-opener, and there were some stellar instructors who were gracious enough to pass on their (combined) 100+ years of knowledge about the fire service. So, who's signing up for this year? Registration opens January 8th.

One of the coolest things about working in a firehouse that has some serious history behind it is digging up that history. This commendation was in the back of the storage closet, stacked with a whole host of other similar items. Come to think of it, would our chief even give these out anymore?

One shift was spent at Reagan National Airport with what felt like damn near every company from Virginia and a whole bunch of us from DC. Huge inter-agency Mass-Casualty drill sponsored by the airport? Yup, it was as cool as it sounds. Very neat to see the simulated plane crash and our resulting "response."

"The Marina's on fire! The Marina's on fire!" We lost a lot of good boats that day. I mean, when you fill a vessel up with water, and it's already in the water… hey, can't save 'em all. The fireboat damn near sprayed me right off the deck, too.

I took some time off and went to England. It was a much-needed vacation, so I unfortunately didn't do any exploration of the British fire service (unlike my 2010 trip to Europe, when I spent a good bit of time in an Irish firehouse).

Did I mention that I adopted a dog?

I survived the great earthquake of 2011, too. It locked up the city for damn near a day, too—much to the fire department's chagrin, since communications was overrun with calls and the guys working that day were ridiculously busy resetting fire alarms and investigating possible collapsed structures.

Every so often we have to take a little trip down to the Training Academy while we're on shift. It's good to see that the old wagon we tagged is still alive and kicking… and our class numbers are undisturbed.

I know it's an old photo, but the previous shot made me feel a little nostalgic. The blog officially turned three this year… and it all started with the Academy. (God, remember when I still called it "Recruit Class 994?" Haha, anonymity is overrated.)

My Battalion Chief celebrated his thirtieth (yes, thirtieth) year on the job. Also monumental this year, our wagon driver hit twenty years—and every one of them was at 15 Engine. Here's a bit more about him, and someone else's photos.

I've been experiencing more and more firehouses this year, what with being detailed to EMS units all over the city. Also, trading with people at different houses is interesting, to see a different side of the city than my usual "Southeast experience." Working uptown or over in Georgetown isn't half bad, every once in a while… it's a very welcome respite, in terms of call volume. I even got to work with the Naked Chef on one trade! (Thankfully, there were no repeats of his, *ahem*, transgressions.)

On a more personal note, I got married! Right here in the city, to boot. 2011 was a great year if for no other reason

(We honeymooned in Barcelona. It was awesome.)

Back stateside, Engine 15 responded to assist Santa (and Toys for Tots) with distribution of presents on Christmas Eve.

Unfortunately, a sadder ongoing of 2011 that will certainly continue into 2012 is what I've witnessed first-hand amongst the members. Dissention in the ranks, reduction in morale, and new rumors every day can make work a bit… edgy. Ultimately, however, our dedication to the job and the pride that we hold for our profession cannot be quashed. We may falter, we may stumble—but we will stay strong. Our union (IAFF Local 36) president penned a very poignant opinion piece for the Washington Post two days ago; do us a favor and have a read.

Despite the problems, the arguments, the scare tactics, or the generally uncoordinated efforts of the administration, one thing remains the same—my crew is an amazing group of guys who have my back, just like I have theirs. It's a great feeling, whether we're getting the knock on a fire, running a medical call, or just plain bullshitting around the firehouse. It's one of the main reasons I still love coming to the same job for the past three years, and I hope to feel that way for years to come. We put out some fires, and we saved some lives—here's to a great 2011, and thanks for everything you guys have taught me thusfar.

…oh yeah, and one more thing: SuperSafety Rocco says: "stay safe out there!"

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Thanks to my friends and family, everyone at FireEMSBlogs.com along with all of my fellow bloggers, and most importantly: my readers. You've made it the best year yet for RaisingLadders, and it looks like it's only getting better!

/RL

 

Ever have "one of those days?" Where stupidity reigns supreme, inefficiency is the norm, and the only thing that can possibly quell your growing level of insanity is texting someone who you just know will laugh at your predicament?

That's right, boys and girls! It's time for a segment (that I've just made up) called "Text Me From Work," where we can all vent our ridiculous/frustrating/absolutely mind-boggling encounters with all whom we meet in the course of our job.

Nursing home giving you the run-around?

Text me from work, man!

Yet another million dollars of apparatus running up and down the street because Joe Moron turned on his dirty furnace for the winter and smelled a little bit of gas?

Ugh, I feel ya… text me from work.

Crazy, hammer-weilding PCP patient had you backed into a corner?

Cool story, bro—text me from work.

I suppose I was inspired in two parts by my love of "textsfromlastnight," a user-submitted content aggregation of funny (sometimes NSFW) stories told via 160 characters or less, and an absolutely ridiculous, ass-kicking day I spent on a medic unit two tours ago. The last few times I was detailed to this particular EMS unit, I had a relatively easy day. However, it appears that the gods were against me as I was repeatedly hammered with call after call. Them's the breaks, I guess.

Either way, I found myself notifying other like-minded souls who, while they couldn't stop the onslaught of inane situations, would completely understand my "FML" moment (UrbanDictionary, for the uninitiated—and no, it's not "fix my lighthouse").

I present to you the following verbatim texts that I sent while on a twenty-four hour medic unit detail. I hope you enjoy, and perhaps find a kindred spirit in the insane version of me.

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Dear [nursing home]: a photocopied piece of paper with "DNR*" written on it in Sharpie does not count as an actual legal document. Just FYI, thought you should know.

*stands for "Do Not Resuscitate," a legal directive stating that the patient is not to be treated with certain resuscitative efforts, and is instead allowed to die without invasive measures.

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Given recent events, maybe [Howard University Hospital] shouldn't have this displayed quite so prominently.

Plus, there's that whole Rosenbaum thing:

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Holy shit, you hear all this VA Tech shooting stuff?

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It might be one of those "grass is always greener" scenarios, but at least I know over here that all the grass is fucking dead.

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Jesus, that's our second weird call of the day. Dude works for [government agency]. Says he went to visit the Czech Repub. two years ago, banged out some chick and ahd shows up on his doorstep two days ago, in full crazy mode off her meds. Now she's faking seizures and stuff in his current/real gf's apartment for attention. Seriously, I can't make this up.

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(at 4:30pm:) I chugged coffee, drove home super quick when I was relieved, and woke up ten minutes ago. Yeah, it was one of *those* nights.

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What do you think? Should I register "textmefromwork.com" so we can all share our most ridiculous venting moments with each other? I'd love to hear some of the SMS messages you guys have sent, I'm sure there's some comedy gold out there. Gotta love the profession…

I haven't put up any photos in a while, so I figured it's about time for one of these. However, I'm doing two of them—this first one will be a collection of stuff I've seen/done recently, just the usual funny and offbeat items.

The second will be an end-of-the-year collection, in which I will select my favorites from all photos I've taken this year. Enjoy these below, and look forward to the big collection!

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