I’m now a retired firefighter. Thankfully, as I look back on a long 35-year career, I have few regrets. Though I was never supposed to mention this out loud, I wish I had gone to medic school. A couple of months ago, I also participated in what will probably be my last ever recruit interviews. As I sat through the various interviews, I was reminded of the excitement I had when I began my career—excitement mixed with a lot of fear. As I sat and reflected on the many and various answers I heard, I began to reflect on what goes into making a career successful. One that is just as exciting to leave as it was to begin. We are all imperfect human beings and we will make mistakes—there will always be some regrets. How do we minimize those shortcomings?
On my very last shift, my daughter Jessica (24 years old and a pediatric nurse—yes, I’m a proud father) sent me a letter. I wish to share part of it with you not to bring attention to myself, but for what it says about, and for, all of us. We can learn something about what we put into our careers from a child’s perspective.
“I just wanted to write you a letter and recognize your retirement and your last day as a Peoria fireman. I just want you to know how much I love you and appreciate you working at the fire station and supporting mom, Josh, and me. Thank you for working hard and having integrity and being a godly boss to the men you worked over.”
As I reflect on my career, I failed all too often in this area. Nevertheless, I never took my eye off the target. As many of the recruit interviewees understood, integrity and character matter and it should always be on the forefront of your mind. As cliché as it may sound (repeated often by various recruits), integrity can be measured by how we act when nobody is watching. However, I’ve learned something over the past 35 years. Someone is always watching. Behave as if it’s one of your children watching. What do you want them to see and take away from your actions? Be willing to make amends, because you will fail. Be humble enough to say, “I’m sorry.”
Family first
"Thank you for choosing a job where you could be home with us so often. Thank you for using your time off to homeschool us and go to track meets and games. Thank you for showing us what a man's relationship to his job should look like. It was apparent that you loved your job, but it was never your life and we always knew we were way more important to you."
I heard it multiple times during the recruit interviews, “I want this career because its family oriented.” This is true in more ways than one (see below). Let’s begin with our flesh-and-blood family. I think most of us would agree that the goal in raising children is to make them better people than we are. This means we cannot sacrifice them at the altar of our career. There is, however, an awkward, give-and-take dimension to this idea. We don’t sacrifice our families, but neither do we neglect or sacrifice our career. Apart from my job, I can’t provide for my family. Apart from my job, I cannot demonstrate a work ethic for my sons and daughters. Apart from my job, I cannot spend quality time with my family. It’s important that we work hard at our careers; but at times, sacrifices will have to be made. You may need to put off a promotion or technical school because the timing is not right for your family—but these times will not last forever and there will be future opportunities. Family first!
Camaraderie and the extended family
"Thank you for letting me come spend time at the station with you. Those are some of my favorite memories. It was really cool to get to know the guys and it made me feel really special that they all took an interest in me and what was going on in my life. I know that a lot of firemen go to each other's events, but it was really special when they all came to my wedding and knowing that they actually cared about me and it wasn't as much of an obligation."
As I mentioned above, this job is about family. Let’s look at the department-side of that equation. My fellow firefighters are also my family, an extension of my flesh and blood. Treat each other that way. I’ve often heard it said and have seen it demonstrated that we come together in times of distress—this is true and we do it in amazing ways. However, it’s the times in-between, the times of relative peace, that we sometimes fall short. Hazing can be taken too far—be careful. Work relationships can be neglected—be mindful. Feelings can be hurt—make amends.
I will never forget how my fire department family came alongside of me and my family in both times of sorrow and joy. My son was diagnosed with Burkett’s Lymphoma when he was only 12 years old. It was one of the scariest and darkest times of my life. Yet, my family came through in ways that not only impacted me, but impacted my children. They fed us, they did house repairs, they worked for me, they prayed for us, and they were there for us. My son fully recovered and I was able to pay back some of the shifts worked, but how does one pay back the love and support provided in so many ways by those you work and live with? Only by being willing to do the same. Have that attitude within you. Finally, as my daughter wrote, my family also shared times of joy with us. This too left an impact.
Helping others
"You also helped mold me as a nurse. Growing up with you and knowing your mindset about fires and the excitement you had with your job helps give me the freedom to be excited with my job as a nurse. I don't feel bad that it's a rush ;) I know it's ok to be excited about codes and emergencies and it makes me a better nurse. You also helped make me tougher and I don't think I'm too much of a weeny."
Helping others is the primary reason we exist as an entity—Public Safety. Wear that monocle with pride. Reach out to others, not just on emergency incidents, but afterwards. Be a shoulder to cry on and a heart of compassion. Be prepared to spend extra time with a family after an emergency, have resources available for them; continue the care. Again, the recruit process is a reminder of this responsibility. The candidates that did the best throughout the process were the ones that did ride-alongs, came to the stations, and found a mentor. Be that person who takes others under your wing and helps. Give back to the community that you serve. Be an example to others—both on and off-duty. Not that we are ever truly “off-duty.”
Staying excited
"Tonight I'm feeling sad that it's your last day. I've always known you as my dad, my teacher, and my fireman. I just always loved that you were a firefighter—I don't think there is any better job for a dad to have.
Love you,
Jess"
Please, above all, take these words to heart. We have the greatest job in the world! But, it doesn’t last forever. There will come a final day and I hope you approach it with the same satisfaction, sadness, and excitement as I have. I thank God that our children see us with forgiving eyes. I’m sure I haven’t completely lived up to the words and accolades that my daughter poured out, but I tried. I set the goal and worked toward it. I tried to make amends for my shortcomings and failures. If I had it to do over, I would change a few things; but not everything. As you go to work throughout your career, try to remember your first day and try to imagine your last. Now it’s up to you.
MIKE MUÑOZ began his career as a firefighter with the Peoria, AZ, Fire Department in 1986 and recently retired. For the last 10 years he has served as a shift commander and battalion chief. For more than 12 years, he taught ethics for the Peoria Fire Department and he's also taught ethics at Glendale Community College and Fayetteville State University. Munoz currently teaches at Grand Canyon University. He served on the ethics committee at Phoenix Children’s Hospital for over two years prior to relocating to Spokane, WA. He holds a doctorate in bioethics from Loyola University, Chicago.
