I wish you could see the sadness of
a businessman as his livelihood goes up in flames or that of a family
returning home, only to find their house and belongings damaged or
destroyed.
I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom
for trapped children, flames rolling above your head, your palms and
knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as
the kitchen beneath you burns. I
wish you could know the unique smell of burning insulation, the
taste of soot-filled sweat and mucus, the feeling of intense heat
through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling, and the
eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke.
I wish you could understand how it
feels to go to work in the morning after having spent most of a
December night cold and soaking-wet at a multiple alarm fire.
I wish you could read my mind as
I respond to a building fire: Is it a false alarm or a working fire?
How is the building constructed? What hazards await us? Is anyone
trapped?
I wish you could know the frustration
I feel in the cab of an engine - foot pressing hard on the siren
button, arm tugging again and again at the air horn lanyard, as
other drivers fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection
or in traffic. When they need us, however, their first comment upon
our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"
I wish you could know the brother/sisterhood
and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone's
property, of being there in times of crisis, of creating order from
chaos.
Unless you have lived the life of
a firefighter, you will never truly understand or appreciate who
we are, what we do, or what the job we perform really means to us.
I wish you could.
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