Grandpa, now retired, was a career firefighter in Springfield, where for three decades he worked alongside other brave men to save lives and property during some of the worst fires imaginable. He ended his career as acting district chief after working up the ranks. Our family, proud of Grandpa’s accomplishments, has photo albums full of newspaper clippings from the various fires he fought throughout the years. He put himself in harm’s way countless of times to save parents, children and pets from suffering smoke inhalation or worse, severe burns or death during some truly devastating infernos. Understanding what he went through by simply looking at an image frozen in time is impossible. You can’t truly appreciate firefighters unless you see them in action first hand.
I’m proud of my grandfather, just as I’m proud of all my friends who currently serve their communities as firefighters. But in the days after the arrest of the five firefighters from Brimfield and Holland on charges that they intentionally set vacant homes on fire, I saw the wound they left in their destructive wake.
I saw it on people like Grandpa.
Usually when I write about a big fire in the towns I cover, I call him. Whenever I see a union fire sticker on a motor vehicle or pass a fire truck on the road, he’s often the first person who comes to mind. I can’t think of him and not feel a surge of pride.
When I called him last weekend to tell him about this latest story I was covering, I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
Holland Fire Chief Paul Foster had said the alleged actions of the fire young men "gave the entire fire service a black eye." How does that old saying go: One bad apple spoils the bunch? Do we think it’s true in this case? I hope not.
Let’s not forget that these are the people who are taken away from their loved ones to save yours when there’s an emergency. A real emergency. And let’s face it, there’s no shortage of those; you only need to look within the boundaries of your small town to notice.
From serious motor vehicle accidents to blazing fires, from carbon monoxide alarms ringing and smoke detector activations, these are the people who routinely give up of themselves for others.
I’ve been to countless fires in the Palmer/Monson area that occurred during the early morning hours when most people are tucked away for a night of rest. Many of them happen during the winter, when people seek alternative heat sources for their homes. Accidents happen and nobody is immune. And when an accident does happen, it’s the local firemen who get out of bed in the middle of the night and go, leaving their wives and children to worry about their safe return.
"It’s a dangerous job," Grandpa said last weekend. "People think we sat around and played cards all day, and maybe to an extent that was true, but when we got a call, we’d go. And we exerted ourselves more than your average worker did in a week."
He’s absolutely right. At some point during my years as The Journal Register reporter, I covered a fire in one of my coverage towns that happened shortly after a fire in the other. I can’t remember specifically which fire or even how long ago it happened (yes, there have been that many through the years), I just remember one of my call firefighter friends saying he had been up for more than 24 hours, putting out fires in both towns (thanks to mutual aid agreements) and that he was exhausted. And yet, when his pager went off for a motor vehicle accident shortly thereafter, he was up and running, off to help yet again. That’s dedication. We should thank them for it.
Statewide, there are about 24,000 call and volunteer firefighters, not counting those individuals who, like my grandpa, make their living working full-time at a department. Let’s not let the actions of a few spoil the good work of so many.
When it’s your family’s lives on the line, you’ll be glad to have them at your service, while their family waits patiently for their safe return.
Column reprinted with permission from The Journal Register.
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