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About

old station lounging hose

Hi! My name is John Mitchell and I’m a firefighter/paramedic and a lieutenant in suburban Chicago.  As is the case with many of you veterans, my interest in firefighting began with Johnny and Roy.  Or Chet.  Or that other guy, the one that did all the work.  Not Captain Stanley.

As a volunteer in the 70′s I rode the tailboard, nose firmly against the musty hosebed during those long winter runs in a blizzard. In the summer, who remembers the chaffed upper legs from where the 3/4 boots rubbed mercilessly when we wore only shorts underneath?

The 80′s brought paramedicine into my life.  Back then, we pushed 2 amps of bicarb early on in the arrest, and pushed Isuprel, both probably killing our patients.  CPR was different back then although the human body hasn’t changed that much (the four most important words in CPR back then were: ‘you take the mouth’).

I finally bit the bullet in the 90′s and went full time.  Since then, I’ve focused on training- my own and for others- by heading up our training division.  My second job was as adjunct faculty at our local college instructing Firefighter II, EMT-B and paramedic courses.  I am also a certified fire investigator and safety officer. I hold an AAS in EMS and fire science and I’m currently continuing my education as a member of the 30-year program.

I’ve been sidelined recently, the victim of a line of duty injury keeping me away from my right seat and my brothers- my second family.  I’m finding out how many injured or retired firefighters have taken to the “internets” to blog.  I share that need to remain close to the issues that remain important to me, even away from the engine.

I’m also co-creator of Firefighter Netcast, hosting the fire service’s most exciting podcast program.  You can find it on our website, or by downloading it from iTunes.

There is much more in the works with some exciting new projects slated.

I have three daughters, the oldest out of college and the youngest out of diapers.  I’m surrounded by estrogen.  Our family loves to travel, we RV camp, and hold black belts in karate. If it’s not camping season, it’s hockey season here in our home. Go Hawks! And since the injury, I’ve been kept off the motorcycle that we used to hop on and just go.  Dammit again!

I’m honored to be a part of the blog team here at FireEMSblogs.com. I’m in such great company and hope to contribute in a way that can keep up with them all.  If you haven’t yet peeked in on the talent here, you are in for a treat.  Make it a point to stop by as you surf the web, I promise you’ll be better for it.

So now you know about me, howabout you?  Don’t be shy. Drop me a line at blog@firedaily.com, I’d love to hear from you.

Stay stoked!

-J

Hawks vs. Sharks3

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  • Tom Allen
    I think you could have mentioned the guy that didn't get mad at the rookie when a boot was pulled off during live fire training. Haha great job John I find your site informative and a way for me to stay in contact with the service I loved so much.
  • All the smoke you've eaten over the decades and still you have the memory of an elephant! However, I can't remember if we emerged from the burning building with your boot in my hand or me in yours! Thanks, buddy, you're one of the best and I was fortunate to have started down this road with a leader like you.

    We'll bump into each other feeding pigeons someday.

    And I'll leave your feet alone.
  • Gayland W Grant
    Hello Jeremy
    Sounds like you are from my time capsule area. The changes that have evolved are sure fascinating to look at. I started in 1972 and air packs were seems to show some one "Yea we have two of them and two spare tanks". Then I build a quick advance line on the running board of the engine. No cross lays at this time, had a skid load on the hose bead. People still have a hard time belivieng we fought a fully envolved house fire with Buster Lines. And we put them out, guess more guts than anything just get in there and get it. I have to laugh at the guys and myself we would come out with snot hanging a foot out of your nose. You were not a firefighter unless you could take that type of abuse. And today I know it from my lung function. All of the stories I could relate to.
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