We Honor Their Memory By Working Harder at What We Do

HARRY R. CARTER
Contributing Editor, Firehouse Magazine
Courtesy International Society Of Fire Service Instructors

Like many of you, I spent the late morning and early afternoon of December 9, 1999 riveted to my television. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried throughout the Memorial Service for the Worcester Fire Fighters who lost their lives at the December 3, 1999 fire. The words were eloquent. The visual images were truly captivating.

Through the medium of modern telecommunications, firefighters around the world were allowed to mourn with our colleagues in Worcester, Massachusetts. I have been in close contact with my friends at the Massachusetts Firefighting Academy in Stow, Massachusetts. These are people whom I have known for years. The despair and devastation in their voices is something I have never heard before.

As fire instructors, we need to be aware of the fact that one of the deceased was a member of the staff of the Massachusetts Academy. Jerry Lucey was considered, " …. A firemans's fireman." Not only was he a dedicated firefighter, but he was one of those people who believed in the importance of sharing what they knew with their contemporaries. Each of us must now understand that a void has been created within our ranks.

Another small aspect of this saga that might go unnoticed involves another long-time, dedicated member of the ISFSI family. Our good Chaplain, Father Steven X. Foley, of New Haven, Connecticut was at the scene of the tragedy ministering to the survivors of the tragedy. It was he who donned his turnout gear and descended into the cavernous, rubble strewn heart of the disaster to administer the Last Rites of the Catholic Church to the first fallen hero to be located.

No amount of words can assuage the grief felt by every member of the Firefighting Fraternity at this time. Each of us knows the risks and we do our job whenever and wherever necessary. As Instructors, it is our mission to see that every firefighter is equipped to handle the wide ranges of perilous events to which we are all periodically summoned. While many consider what we do to be of marginal importance on the fireground, I say that this is not the case. What we do is absolutely critical to the success of every operation our firefighters, paramedics, or EMT's attend.

What we say, what we do, and how we do our jobs has a direct impact on the life of each and every person who dons their gear, slings on a self-contained breathing apparatus, and ventured forth into the Belly of the Beast. It is critical for us to review this incident to see what we can learn.

Please, let no one don the jersey of the Monday Morning Quarterback. The events of that fateful Friday are now a part of history. Our job, as instructors, is to work to insure that the lessons of this tragic event are written and disseminated. Let us look to the lesson of Deputy Chief Vincent Dunn of the New York City Fire Department for our example on just how we can accomplish this goal.

Chief Dunn honors the memory of the six valiant New York firefighters who died during the roof collapse at the Waldbaum's Supermarket in 1978, each time he writes or speaks on the dangers of truss roofs. The same tribute can be paid to Frank Brannigan. Their noble crusade to tell us of the lessons learned at that long-ago event, stands as the shining light to guide us in our search for lessons in the midst of this current tragedy.

It is important for me to tell you that during the midst of the Memorial Service, the pager on my belt began to beep, alerting my fire department in Adelphia to a call for aid. I paused for a moment to ponder whether to let somebody else do the job, so that I could continue mourning for our fallen comrades. It then dawned on me that to think such a thought was an insult to their memories. They did not sit back and let someone else do the job for them. So off I went.

As our pumper roared out of the fire station toward the development home where someone needed our help, a beautiful thought came to me. They best way to honor their memory, and all the faithful departed, is to keep doing our job, just as they would have, had not the Lord called them home on that fateful evening. The nature of the call is of no importance. The fact that twelve of us dropped what we were doing to answer the alarm is the critical element.

Life goes on. But the safety of our fellow firefighters, both now and in the future, is something we, as instructors, can directly address. I urge you to create your own individual memorial to our brothers in Massachusetts who have died in the line of duty. Vow to do your job, whatever it may be with a renewed vigor. I assure you that this is what I intend to do.

Whatever your position, or responsibilities, double your efforts and renew your commitment to make a difference. And to the families of the deceased, their surviving brothers and to all of my friends in Massachusetts; you are in my prayers.