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Bla Bla Bla. Parroting Sucks. Our Brothers Deserve Much Better.

Note- Not one “I”, “me”, “my”, “we”, “what I did’s” in this article.

 

 

Parroting is easy.

 

Thoughts and prayers and climbing stairs is simply not enough,

Less of “me” and more of “thee” is what separates the weak from the tough.

Become a hollow mouthpiece, get the sticker, t-shirt, and tattoo if you must,

But me?  I’ll make sure the brave 343 won’t be shaking their heads in disgust.

 

Is anyone else sick of reading all the repulsive crap regarding Never Forget?  People calling attention to themselves with helmet stickers, t-shirts, tattoos, blogs, facebook posts, me, my, we, etc.  It’s a revolting “tribute” to themselves- and most certainly not what the 343 deserve. 

Of all the hundreds of “tributes” of walking billboards and parroting of phrases posted yesterday, only one (ONE) seemed to go beyond and describe how a change in our everyday behavior truly demonstrates an understanding of “Brotherhood”, and of “Never Forgetting.” 

Read yesterday’s “A Firefighters Own Worst Enemy” article entitled “Remembering With Our Actions” from a good friend, DC Jason Hoevelman.  Jason’s words on the way to truly “never forget” were the ONLY ones worth their salt while swimming through the putrid soup yesterday:

 

Don’t just call each other Brother, act like one every day.

Be physically and mentally fit

Be engaged everyday in our profession, don’t just act proud, show your pride by engaging

Learn something about our profession every day no matter how small or large the task

Pass on the lessons of those that taught us, share and give much to those who come after you

Stand up for what is right even when it goes against what’s “popular”

Be excellent at whatever you do; not all firefighters will be officers, but whatever you aspire to, be the best at it–everyday!

Encourage and teach those younger than you, don’t degrade them-they are our future

Be involved–see a problem, be a part of the solution

Leave our fire service better than it was when you entered it

 

Now go be a Brother- and never forget.

 

 

 

Posted in Brotherhood, In the Line of Duty, Line of Duty, Never Forget, Tradition, WTF?

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Posted by on September 12, 2012 • 5 comments

The Brotherhood of Two FNG’s – Part Four- Taking Care of Our Brothers

I’ve been sharing with you a story of humor, yet it is also a story many of each of you have been apart of in your own experiences.  You get on a department, and you grow close to each other as you begin your journey developing your second family.

There are many other stories, as I’m sure you can imagine.  Some can be related, some are better left untold.  But each story are singular threads that we share to create the fabric of life- the truly special one which we all share as Brothers and Sisters in the greatest profession on earth.

I began my career with Buzz, and was fortunate enough to have him as a part of our company when I suffered my injury a few years back.  From beginning to end, Buzz has been and continues to be my Brother.

Buzz has a beautiful wife and three fantastic young men for sons.  Throughout our Brotherhood, Buzz has always had the support of both his families.  Buzz also serves his country in the Global War on Terror, having been in the sands as a Navy medic saving the lives of his other Band of Brothers, our heroes in the Middle East.

When he is gone on his tours, the Brothers back home make sure his family is never in want for anything.  From simple chores to assistance with major issues we all made sure his wife, Maria, and her three sons could count on us to have their backs just like if Buzz was there for them.  We treated his family just like they should be treated, and how we would expect they would treat ours. 

Today, our Brother faces a new crisis, and we are all stepping up for him.  For those of you who are unaware, his eldest son Ken was unexpectedly diagnosed with brain cancer this last March. After 2 brain surgeries 5 weeks of radiation and countless medications, Ken is looking and feeling better and better. He still has a long road to recovery and many months of chemotherapy ahead, but things are looking positive.

This unfortunate medical issue came at a time when Ken was off of a health insurance plan between graduating college, and trying to get a small business up and going. His medical expenses are staggering and overwhelming.  Now, this is something that will dealt with over time, but we all can have an impact now.  Why?

Ken will be unable to work for at least a year.  But in this, the greatest country in the world, Ken can also receive a higher level of healthcare treatment IF he can pony up certain percentages out of pocket.  In other words, if he has more money, he can get better treatment.  God Bless America, right?

Anyway, us Brothers are not going to let a lack of finances hold Buzz’s son to a lesser standard of care without a fight.  We’ve put a party together and want everyone to join us the weekend after the Fourth of July at Arlington Park Racecourse. 

Join us as we bet on the ponies, break some bread, share some pop, enjoy pony rides, a petting zoo, face painting, 50/50 raffle, silent auction, other raffle prizes, and a demonstration by our very own Chicago Fire Professional Soccer Team.

A Day At The Races runs from noon until 6pm (post time at 1pm) on Sunday, July 10th at Arlington Park Racecourse.  Tickets are $40 for adults, $20 for children 4 years old and older.

Your ticket includes food, non-alcoholic beverages, and entertainment, and all proceeds will be donated to Ken so that he can get the level of treatment he deserves.

Now I realize that many of you are geographically unable to make it to suburban Chicago for this mega-party, but you can still help out in several ways.  First, visit “Ken Krull Fundraiser” on facebook and “like”  the page.  It will help get the word out to the world.  Secondly, we’ve set up a PayPal account to which you can donate by using the email address “kenfundraiser@gmail.com”.  Local 3481 will also be graciously accepting checks mailed to Local 3481, PO Box 1683, Barrington, IL 60010. 

Finally, contact me below for any further information on how you might wish to get involved.

This is one of those situations in life that happens all around us, but you never really grasp the impact until it happens to a loved one.  

Buzz is my buddy.  Buzz is my brother.  He was there when I started, and he was there on my last day.

Join me now as we stand right beside him today, as we know we will for the rest of our lives.

 

Stay stoked!

-J

Posted in Brotherhood, Chicagoland, Firefighters, IAFF, In Da House, Just For Fun, Tradition

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Posted by on June 16, 2011 • No comments

The Brotherhood of Two FNG’s – Part Three- Escape. Wait, no. Maybe Not

When you last left us, the two hapless FNG’s had amazingly escaped a potential situation in which something got broken.  Remember, if something gets broken, we’d have to endure the Wrath of the Lieutenant- that unimaginably obscene and cataclysmic display of sound and spit-spray.

But just as things looked like they were going our way, the rising railroad crossing gate snapped off the lens of our rotating light sending it high up into the air.  Oh no!  What if it gets broken?  AAAARRRRGGGGHHH!  We watched in amazement as it arced about forty feet into the air then began its descent toward the line of traffic stopped at the light.

But the Gods were smiling down upon us on that memorable day as the lens came down hard- into a landscaping truck filled to the rim with grass clippings.  It bounced once, then twice, then finally settled on top of the pile in the back of the truck.

The light turned green.  Nooooo! 

I bolted (I know smart-asses, not so much bolting these days anymore) for the landscaping truck as it began to start forward with the traffic.  I yelled STOP! and with one leap (well, OK, I stopped, put my cigarette out and coughed, cinched up my pants, then heaved myself up attempting to get up into the back of the truck).  My third attempt was successful. 

I grabbed the lens and looked it over in wide-eyed amazement.  Just a scratch!  Well, we could get that out.  In the words of Spicoli, “my Dad’s got an awesome set of tools.”

Down I sprang (well, climbed laboriously- HEY enough from you guys already, huh?) and skipped my way back to the ambulance holding the lens with both hands above my head like the Stanley Cup (Go Bruins!) as Buzz waited dutifully with the patient.

“It’s not broken, it’s not broken!” I screamed, ecstatically incredulous.  I gently placed the lens on the front passenger seat like a majestic crown on a velvet pillow, buckled it in securely, then retook my position as driver/operator of the mobile intensive care unit.  As we made our way to the hospital, tears again, this time tears of joy and re-relief. 

Me and Buzz on our first call together.  We had successfully avoided the Wrath of the Lieutenant.  We would not be so successful in the future.  Things would get broken, Wraths be unleashed.  But today….sweet victory.

To be continued…

This story has been told and retold countless times

and may or may not be a wildly exaggerated account of utter fiction. 

As we used to say on black shift,

never let the facts get in the way of a good story. 

Posted in Brotherhood, Chicagoland, Firefighters, IAFF, In Da House, Just For Fun, Tradition

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Posted by on June 15, 2011 • No comments

The Brotherhood of Two FNG’s – Part Two- The Wrath of the Lieutenant

When you last left, a Metra Commuter train was barreling down on our ambulance trapped in a railroad crossing as we were transporting a patient to our local hospital.  2 FNG’s, me and Buzz, and a patient were on the way to the hospital when the crossing gates came down on top of the box near a multi-hundred dollar revolving light, seemingly calling attention from anyone nearby to waste just a moment of their time to claim witness to what was about to happen.

This is a good point to address the obvious question you all may have here.  Why not just throw it into reverse and break what needs to be broken- just to be safe? 

B e c a u s e  i f  s o m e t h i n g  e v e r  g e t s  b r o k e n, we endure the Wrath of the Lieutenant. 

OK.  I know you readers are all rolling your eyes- but hear me out- this was not something to ever be a part of. 

The Wrath of the Lieutenant was cataclysmic.  Each of the five human senses were so violated by the event that the End of Times would be pleasurable by comparison.  One need only hear about one of these things to never want to be nearby when it erupts.

The message was clear: Don’t break anything.  It’s only that simple.  Don’t friggin’ break a thing.

Even though it looked like there might be just enough space for the train to clear the front bumper, I thought about the emergency lighting in the front bumper as well.  If those got broken, well, the Wrath of the Lieutenant would be known! 

Something was going to get broken, it was just a question of how spectacular that breakage would be.

So this FNG did the bravest, most heroic deed ever seen in my department’s history.  Forget about saving babies from a raging inferno, this took balls. 

I put her in reverse and slowly backed up. 

The first sound was that of the wooden railroad gate contacting the lens of the revolving light on top of the ambulance box.  Clink.  Tears streaming down my face in anticipation of what would happen if anything broke, I continued inching backward. 

Buzz peeked his head through the cab window and asked what was the matter.  My tear-stained head spun around and I screamed “BEWARE THE WRATH OF THE LIEUTENANT”!

Buzz froze.  He knew. 

His eyes welled up as he quickly did the Sign of the Cross on himself. 

“Don’t break anything!  Just let the train smash us!” Buzz screamed. 

The ambulance continued inching slowly backward.

Others nearby probably only heard the blaring of the approaching train’s horn, but the two terrified FNG’s could only wait for the sound of “something breaking”.  The wooden gate creaked and groaned as it bent farther and farther back, the revolving light holding it’s ground.

After what seemed like hours, the train finally roared by.  Turns out we had plenty of room after all.  Buzz and I shared a look of intense relief and began to dry our pitifully snot-slobbered faces.  Nothing got broken!  We had avoided the Wrath of the Lieutenant!

As we high-fived and danced a merry jig of exultation, the railroad gate, which had been bowed back about 30 degrees began to ascend upward to allow traffic through.  In doing so, it popped the clear dome light lens catapulting it up and forward high in the air, the revolving light still spinning away.

The lens flew like a rocket, arcing high up into the air.  Oh no!  What if it gets broken?  AAAARRRRGGGGHHH!  We watched in amazement as it arced about forty feet into the air then began its descent toward the line of traffic stopped at the light. 

Things were not looking good again for the two FNG’s.

To be continued……

This story has been told and retold countless times

and may or may not be a wildly exaggerated account of utter fiction. 

As we used to say on black shift,

never let the facts get in the way of a good story. 

 

Posted in Brotherhood, Chicagoland, Firefighters, In Da House, Tradition

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Posted by on June 14, 2011 • 2 comments

The Brotherhood of Two FNG’s- Part One- Buzz

The Brotherhood of Two FNG’s

Part One- Buzz

Hello Friends,
 
I would like to take a few days to relate a story of the Brotherhood of two FNG’s.  For those of you who don’t know, N stands for “new” and G stands for “guy”.  After the story has been told, I would like to tell you why this all came to mind this month and tie it all together with a dose of true humanity.  Enjoy!

When I made the move to my most recent department, I was among a group which almost doubled the size of the career staff there.  The department was making the difficult transition from volunteer to combination and this was a significant growth spurt for the paid firefighters.

Among my group was a firefighter named Brian Krull.  Brian would be the first of the group to earn a nickname that has stood for more than 14 years now.  Let me explain.

Around the newly-expanded day room table sat 6-7 FNG’s.  The Lieutenant came bounding in (he bounds, what can I say?) and smugly asked (he smugly asks, what can I say?) which of the new guys had been responsible for sending the personnel manager a stunning bouquet of flowers following his acceptance into the department. 

Brian raised his hand.  

Oops.  Day one and he was singled out already.

It was 1997.  Back in the 1900’s, FTD had a commercial out about some guy dressed as a bumblebee who delivered flowers, remember? 

Buzz.

The nickname Buzz stuck like honey to a hive. 

So, after a couple weeks of FNG training, we were divvied up into the three shifts.  I had been warned that I should slit my wrists if I was assigned to black shift.

Naturally, I was assigned to black shift.

So was Buzz, and thus began what turned out to be an extraordinary band of brothers who were constantly on every chief officer’s radar screen.  We were a proud group, eager to put up our skills against the other shifts when challenged, and always coming out on top.  That made black shift a target, from blue shirts and multi-bugles alike.

Buzz and I ran our first call together.  2 medics on an EMS run, allowed to solo for the first time without adult supervision despite our Lieutenant’s better judgment.  On the way to the hospital, me driving-Buzz in back, we approached a railroad crossing.  Cars were stopped for a light so I had to enter the opposite lane to slowly sneak around the stopped line of traffic.  Just as I committed the ambo into the RR crossing the bells started ringing and gates started lowering. 

Maybe I shoulda just gunned it, but as I said we were FNG’s on our first call.  Fearing the worst, I stopped which allowed the gates to come down on the top of the box. 

Thunk!

I stuck my head out the window and saw the RR gate had come down behind the rotator light on the front corner of the ambulance.  If I backed up I would surely snap the multi-hundred dollar accessory and face the Wrath of the Lieutenant (he wraths, what can I say?)  If I didn’t back up- well the train probably would clear the front of the ambulance no problem.  Right?

I had a decision to make.  Back up and break the multi-hundred dollar light?  Take a chance on the train missing us?  Howabout just getting out and running away screaming like a girl?  You know- right to O’Hare for starters- then who knows where? 

To be continued…..

This story has been told and retold countless times

and may or may not a wildly exaggerated account of utter fiction. 

As we used to say on black shift,

never let the facts get in the way of a good story. 

Posted in Brotherhood, Chicagoland, IAFF, In Da House, Tradition

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Posted by on June 13, 2011 • 2 comments

Brotherhood this, Brotherhood that, bla bla bla…

To my loyal reader (Hi Mom!)

I’ve got some new posts “in da can” but I’ll wait for a decade or so to get them going.

Gotta space them out.

The previous finalists in the Spectacularganza I call “2009 FireDaily Greatest Posts of 2009″ are listed at the end of this story.  If you have a moment, you might check them out.

FireCritic and I are working on a new project that has taken a little bit of time away from the extensive creative process required to produce- well, anything.

At least in my cranium.

More on that project tomorrow.  Until then, humor me with another re-run.  Excuse me if you’ve already seen it, but it bears another look:

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In my opinion, we use the word “brotherhood” way more frequently than we display the magic it describes.

When we are fortunate enough to witness the brilliance pure brotherhood exudes, only then can we appreciate what it truly means.  If we perform it more than we say it, brotherhood becomes an honorable way to live our lives, not only in the fire service, but as individuals interacting with each other in everyday life.

Here is an excellent example of the display of brotherhood in this post from earlier this fall:

Oak Park (IL) Firefighters Retire Early to Facilitate the Return of Laid-Off Brothers

“…It’s disheartening and hurtful to be portrayed as the economic destroyers of the community, the ones who work such a short career and live such a wonderfully long retirement at the expense of the people we served – portrayed as something bad, as if our work, lives, careers were some sort of scam we have perpetrated on the community. I guess on a line item in a budget or in a ledger, we are just another number.”

Earlier this year, the Oak Park (IL) Fire Department had laid off several firefighter/paramedics due to budget constraints.

One of them is a brother that used to be a part of my crew for years at his previous department, and is one of those guys that can be described as a “fireman’s fireman”.  So I can personally verify that the Oak Park Fire Department had lost the services of a great guy- just as we did when he left us for Oak Park.

Today, he is back at work in Oak Park, one of two firefighters just rehired.

Why?

The honorable and selfless acts of senior firefighters, who decided to hang up the leather early to make room for the outstanding younger guys to carry on in their place.

What an excellent punctuation mark on the fire service careers of these fine men.

Here, in his own words, is an article written by one of those jakes, Rich Wilkie, reflecting on a career with no regrets.

*     *     *     *     *

I have just recently retired (after 27 years, two months) a few years early, short of a full 30 years of service. This was in order to effect the return to duty of the five young firefighter paramedics who were laid off last September. I was asked by one of the young firefighters today, “Were the years at the firehouse worth it all? What was your best memory and were there any regrets?”

It was worth every second of it. I would do it for another 27 years standing on my head. But I have already enjoyed a wonderful career serving, and theirs is just beginning. That is enough reason for me to know it’s time to go now. Not to mention that this job has taken its toll on my body physically and my spirit emotionally. There are so many good memories and stories; it would be impossible to single out one from the rest. So many challenging and rewarding situations in EMS and fire that you take with you, feeling and knowing you made a difference in someone’s life.

It’s a package deal, though. You can’t just take the good alone. Along with the good, you must carry forever the heartache and pain of the situations where you couldn’t change the outcome. You take those with you, too. There’s no vocation I can think of that gives you so much, spiritually, for your successful efforts and takes so much away for your failures. That’s how we think. We own our successes and failures, whether or not our actions could have possibly changed the outcome. We always want to help, save, rescue and succeed, and if we don’t, we feel responsible. We feel we’ve failed. That is why there is such a bond between us, “our band of brothers.”

It takes a special type of person to do what we do. We can’t do it alone; we need each other. Most people don’t really know or understand what is required from us and the toll it takes on us to do the work we do. Only those of us who do this work can understand what it is like to be us. A lifetime decision to willingly and without reservation give your life to help and protect the community you serve. It may sound cliché, but that’s the oath that every firefighter takes when he or she takes on this vocation.

It’s disheartening and hurtful to be portrayed as the economic destroyers of the community, the ones who work such a short career and live such a wonderfully long retirement at the expense of the people we served – portrayed as something bad, as if our work, lives, careers were some sort of scam we have perpetrated on the community. I guess on a line item in a budget or in a ledger, we are just another number.

But in my heart – and I hope in the hearts of the community in which I’ve lived, grown up, raised my children and served for 27 years – me and all my brother and sister firefighters are more than that. Your successes are ours and your losses are ours, too. Thank you for the opportunity and the privilege to serve you for the time I was able.

No regrets at all. Keep the faith and protect each other.

*     *     *     *     *

Rich Wilkie is a 27-year firefighter for the Oak Park Fire Department and member of the International Association of Fire Fighters Local 95.

Making a splash: Rich Wilkie helps Joey Midlash handle a fire hose at A Day In Our Village in 2004.
Photo by Wednesday Journal of Oak Park and River Forest File 2004/Staff


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Previous finalists in FireDaily’s “2009 Best Blog Posts of 2009”

#2009-  Got a Bad Attitude?  Stay at Home!

#2008-  30 Minutes a Week of Training is Unfair and “Unreal”

#2007- “Da Chief”

#2006  “Nicknames”

#3  “The Head Rule”

Posted in Brotherhood, Chicagoland, Funding & Staffing

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Posted by on December 30, 2009 • No comments

“We’ll take care of our brother…”

For 37 years, he had been a proud LA County Firefighter saving lives and homes.  Last August, retired LA County firefighter MIke Weatherbie was at the end of a long illness, unconscious, and the largest fire in LA county history was knocking on his back door.  His wife didn’t know how she could themselves out of harms way and desperately needed help.

During the Station fire , LA County firefighters were busy evacuating the remote Antelope Valley area when they  recognized a special emblem on the Weatherbie’s address sign.  It indicated that a fellow firefighter lived there.  They met up outside with Lori, his wife of 55 years.

“I told them that he is not really conscious right now,” she said.  “And he said ‘Is that the fireman?’, and I said ‘yeah’. and he says ‘we’ll take care of our brother.’”

A video showing yet another example of the meaning of brotherhood, and the special gift of passage given by his brothers at LA County fire….

Posted in Brotherhood, Major Incidents, Wildland

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Posted by on October 31, 2009 • No comments