In an unscheduled column for this month, I want to take this opportunity to share a few personal thoughts related to the very sudden passing of our Editor-in-Chief Harvey Eisner.
I personally started as a very young buff, growing up in the New York City suburb of Nassau County, Long Island, specifically the Manhasset-Lakeville Fire District in Great Neck, bordering the New York City Borough of Queens. My Mom says I started “loving” the fire service after hearing the fire whistles blowing, calling out the volunteers of the Manhasset-Lakeville, Great Neck Alert and Great Neck Vigilant fire departments. In 1958, when I was 3 years old, the blaring outside horns and sirens were how the firefighters knew to respond. I have never looked back.
Harvey started very much the same way, only when he grew up in Brooklyn, the FDNY was his department and the apparatus horns and sirens got his attention. And he, like so many of us, never looked back either. Once it gets in your heart, you are set. Some time, when you run into them, ask Mike Wilbur or John Salka about growing up with fire departments in their lives. Hearing the house sirens, horns and rumble of the apparatus. Once it gets in your heart, you are set.
Heart is probably the best way to talk about Harvey – he was 110% heart. I got to know Harvey when he was working for the Bronx District Attorney’s Office as a photographer and an active member of the Tenafly, NJ, Fire Department. I was working for ISO Public Protection and a member of Company 3 of the Manhasset-Lakeville Fire Department – this was in the late 1970s. We saw each other at fires (buffing, taking pictures, etc.) mostly in the Bronx. We started conversations and the friendship remained.
We have all had friends in our careers and lives, people who have helped us along, and Harvey’s was by getting to know Dennis Smith, a retired FDNY firefighter, best-selling author (Report from Engine Co. 82) and founder of Firehouse®.
Dennis recalls seeing four men sitting in a car outside of Engine 82 on Intervale Avenue in the South Bronx sometime in early 1973. They never got out of the car, respecting the privacy of the firehouse, but they followed the firefighters to every alarm. During a pause in their usual 40 alarms a day, Dennis went over to speak with them. And that is when he first met Harvey Eisner.
Dennis had introduced himself to Harvey that night during the early “war years” in the South Bronx. Harvey, modestly and quietly, subsequently became a friend to many in Engine 82 and Ladder 31. In Dennis’ words: “For those of you that met Harvey, even for just a moment, you’ll know that he was easy to like, for his modesty drew you in. It impressed you. To say that Harvey was low key is like saying that a combination lock requires a combination. He was quietly spoken then, as he remained quietly spoken throughout his lifetime, but he was able to communicate his views as forcefully as the loudest voice.”
Dennis asked Harvey if he had some time to help out at the Firehouse® Magazine offices very early in the magazine’s history – odd jobs of writing and editing, and also the more mundane jobs like hanging photos or moving desks around. Harvey, as he was until the day he died, was always willing to help. Finally, Harvey just simply found a desk at that office that he could call his and he became attached to it. According to Dennis, he cannot remember anyone actually offering Harvey a job at Firehouse®, but he most definitely became associated with one – and started getting paid!
Most people did not know that for most of his life, Harvey kept a job as a highly respected full-time Bronx DA Office crime-scene photographer while he was working for the magazine – and serving at the Tenafly Fire Department. When they started the “Great Firehouse Exposition and Muster” (yes, that is the original name of the Firehouse Expo) in Baltimore, Harvey excelled in putting people together with jobs to do, and it was usually a flawless performance. It was during this period that Harvey kept acquiring friends who were growing in importance in fire departments from coast to coast, the contacts who would add significantly to the substance of the magazine’s articles. Harvey would see an issue that he thought important to the fire service, and he knew immediately who to call to write the story. My sincere thanks to Dennis for sharing those memories.
Actions not words: that was Harvey. He did so much without ever having to tell people what he planned to do or got accomplished; you saw what he accomplished in his decades of service – actions, not words. If you walked around the Firehouse shows, you might think he was a fellow attendee. High profile was not Harvey’s way. He was cool, calm, collected and knew exactly what he was doing. Rarely was there ever a “close call” in Harvey’s love affair with the fire service, because he had a plan.
Harvey was a dear friend to us and so many and a true brother to all in the fire service. He was a young man with an old soul – in this case, I mean that like “back in the day” when a person’s word meant something. Harvey’s word meant everything.
I’ll never forget when Harvey asked me to start writing the Close Calls column in Firehouse Magazine years ago. He asked if I was interested and while I was, I had a strong affiliation with Fire Engineering. Harvey understood and said he wouldn't go further without personally reaching out to then-editor of Fire Engineering, Bill Manning. I’ve been affiliated with and loyal to Fire Engineering longer than any other magazine since they published my first piece. It was classic Harvey, always the “old soul” gentleman, who wanted Bill’s “blessing” and to assure Bill that this was nothing other than an attempt to educate firefighters and unless Bill had plans to work on Close Calls with me in Fire Engineering, Harvey wanted to do it in Firehouse®. Bill spoke with Harvey - and then the Close Calls column went forward in Firehouse with Bill and I once again seeing the type of firefighter and gentleman Harvey was. He defined doing the right thing and that’s how he lived his life – always.
Quite honestly, there is not a single firefighter on the streets today that Harvey didn’t positively influence in his teachings, writings and amazing photography. He was a man whose life was always all about doing for others. That is said about many, but that absolutely defined who Harvey was. All you needed to do was to spend a moment with him-and that statement held true and will continue to hold true forever.
“Try to leave this world a little better than you found it.” That quote by Lord Robert Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts, gives you a better idea of who Harvey was. Look at what he did for Firehouse®. Look at what he did for the Tenafly Fire Department. Look at what he did for the FDNY. And directly or indirectly, look what he did for us. With Harvey, it was always about what he did for others and that gave him so much joy.
The last few years were a bit tough for Harvey, but you wouldn't know it. His beloved partner, Jean, had a very tough battle with cancer and passed away in 2012. Harvey himself had a few health issues that slowed him down, but only just a bit, and he pushed them aside! Even in recent days, before his passing, he was looking forward to moving forward and finishing his book about the FDNY, a book that was going to be like none other that had ever been done.
The week Harvey died, his best of friends John Salka, Butch Cobb and Mickey Conboy invited his friends, family and peers to a party to celebrate and honor Harvey’s decades of cool, calm and dedicated service to Firehouse®, the Tenafly Fire Department and FDNY – and to all of us. You too. And then that was it. As the quote goes, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.”
Chief Harvey Eisner:
• Editor-in-Chief Emeritus, Firehouse® Magazine
• Chief, Tenafly Fire Department (ret.)
• Honorary Assistant Chief, FDNY
Rest in peace, Brother Harvey Eisner, we are all better in helping others because of you.
