Firefighters: The Back Page
Featured in the Dayton Daily News
I had a recent encounter with the local fire department. No, I was not in need of emergent care, nor did I call 911. Rather, it was a predicament of another kind. You see, my 2-year-old grandson had been asking for days to see a fire truck. For several outings, we looked. We paid attention to passing traffic. We drove by various fire stations only to see their garage doors closed due to frosty temperatures. We even went to the library in hopes fire truck picture books would do the trick. But alas, my grandson was on a mission. He wanted to see a real fire engine. So, I did what any fanatical grandmother would do…we went to the fire department headquarters.We were met at the reception desk by a woman who had that look of a fellow grandmother. Her eyes lit when she saw the thigh-high fireman wanna-be holding my hand. When I introduced my grandson and simply asked if we could see a fire engine, she nodded in that universal type understanding and told us she knew just the person who could help.Within moments, a firefighter in uniform became our tour guide. Fireman Henry provided my grandson with a red plastic replica of a fire hat. He lead us down a long hallway and through a door which opened up to the grand and awesome world of fire engines. I’m telling you, for my grandson, it was the equivalent of walking into the vibrant color-world of OZ. His little eyes grew in size, mesmerized by the scene found only in his dreams. Pristine shine to the red and chrome polished trucks left not only my grandson in awe, but me as well.We were invited to sit in the firetruck, even the driver’s seat. We learned about the hoses, where the water came from, and saw the speakers that alert everyone in their path when the siren sounds. We saw boots waiting beside the truck doors anticipating the next run. The scene exuded confidence and readiness.
The stories of rescue have no bound. Recently, we’ve seen front-line professionals battling forest fires in California. In our community, we’ve been delayed in traffic as first responders attend to those traumatized by an accident. And for me personally, I’ve been privy to the words of wisdom spoken by a firefighter to my sister and brother-in-law as their home was engulfed by flames. These are big life stories, attended to by men and women who rise to the challenge of enormity.
Having been aware of the grand firefighter gestures, I was especially touched by the tenderness and attention given to a 2-year-old drop in. Honestly, although my grandson occupies a pretty special place in my world, I realize there may have been other, more necessary tasks at the fire station this particular Tuesday afternoon. Yet, Fireman Henry’s demeanor was gentle, inviting, and patient as we worked our way around my grandson’s dream come true. He spoke directly to him, and even offered him a job in a “few” years. As we prepared to leave, the high fives and full-arm waves shepherded us out the door. My grandson was awestruck, and his recount of the visit replayed over and over and over again….for days. For me, I will bank our experience for a multitude of reasons. At the forefront will be a lingering sense of gratitude for those who serve us in our most difficult times. The magnitude of their job often makes the front page. But I experienced the other, more “back page” part of their job. Engaging with children teaches the value in helping others. Offering a plastic hat replica makes accessible the nobility of being a firefighter. And, perhaps most important, their smiles and welcoming demeanor offer the best of what civic community means. They say you can tell the character of someone when no one else is looking? I think it fair to say, the character of our first responders is unmatched. No one else was looking that day we popped into the fire station. No one else, that is, but my grandson and me.