From the rural station that has limited living space to the metro station that has every modern luxury, the engine bay arguably is the focal point of every firehouse. Large or small, single company or multiple stalls, the engine bay is the one component that every firehouse has in common. It is where prospective members enter for the first time and our most experienced members exit after hanging up their gear for the final time. It is where our greatest bonds and memories are made as we watch our kids grow up and our crews grow old. It is where every run begins and ends, making it the epicenter of our departments.
Everyone who is on the job can easily recall his/her first exposure to the engine bay. Perhaps relics of years past and symbols of company pride adorned its walls. The apparatus, equipment, gear, and men and women within it might have seemed larger than life. The unmistakable combination of diesel fumes, road grime, soot-stained helmets, wet turnout gear and mildewed hose concocted a scent that many of us would grow to love. The occasional crackle of the speaker in the background, water dripping from the pump packing, hustle and bustle outside of the bay doors and a few flickering fluorescent light bulbs worked in harmony to create a symphony that only a firefighter would appreciate. The engine bay’s energy held the hope of the future directly alongside the triumphs of the past. Yes, it easily identifies as the heart of the firehouse and evokes a feeling inside of us that we never will forget.
The character of the bay symbolizes our predecessors, heritage and what we represent to the community. Its atmosphere constantly reminds us of the first time that we walked through those doors, an element not found in any other area of the firehouse. It is where war stories connect the dots and fiery discussions spark impromptu trainings and makeshift demonstrations that bridge the gaps of formal training. It is where we learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable, trading air conditioning for old rickety fans and heat for our turnout coats. It is a gym, training pad, shop, car wash, clinic, boardroom, assembly line or whatever else that we need it to be. It is where progress is made and innovation is created. It is the home of early mornings and even later nights. Ultimately, the engine bay is the single location in any firehouse where our best traditions are stored.
Although the engine bay historically serves as our main area of congregation, we slowly are trading its unique serenity for distractions that separate rather than unite us. We are forgetting that our real office is our riding position, not a tiny room and closed door. We are giving in to the comfort of individual bunks, technology and recliners, which allow us to remain hidden behind the wrong side of the engine bay walls. Instead, we now spread out in a constant game of hide-and-seek rather than share knowledge, experience and camaraderie around the collection of makeshift tables and chairs that are demoted to the bay after being too worn for the living areas but not trashed enough to part with quite yet. We communicate through e-mail, text message and the cloud instead of spending time on the bumper or apron, where we belong.
If you ask me, firefighters weren’t meant to be cooped up in a station, which is probably why none of the bad things that we hear about our profession seem to matter when gathered in the bay. Best of all, occupying the bay helps us to turn out faster and keeps the doors up, inviting the public interaction that has built trust for decades. Although there is a time and place to escape to our living quarters, the best way to pass on what this profession is all about is by spending most of our time around the millions of dollars of tools and equipment that we use to carry out our mission. We will watch many great people and rigs come and go during our time in the bay. So, if talking about it doesn’t stir up some emotion, you probably haven’t spent enough time in yours.
