Dear Nozzlehead: I’m a volunteer firefighter with a department that requires its members to meet certain physical agility standards. Our chief’s son recently joined the department, and although the chief claims his son passed the agility standard, the rest of us doubt it. It looks like he’s got about 1,000 cheeseburgers stuffed under his shirt. This kid gets winded walking from the couch to the candy machine. Many of us are frustrated with what seems to be the chief’s obvious favoritism for his son. What can we do to ensure this rookie has to meet the same requirements as the rest of us? —Fit-and-Trim Jim, Iowa
Dear Fit-and-Trim Jim,
I couldn’t help but notice a bit of cynicism in your letter (which ol’ Nozzlehead is usually a fan of), but I’ll try to believe that you are telling me the whole truth (although something tells me you and the chief have some history).
I assume the agility test happens in front of others. I don’t know of any agility tests administered by only one individual. Did anyone else (other than the chief and the Hamburglar) take part in the test? If the test was conducted privately, you’ve only got the chief’s word to go on. Is the chief known to B.S. the troops? What’s his history? No matter what, there’s only one real way through this problem: communication.
Firefighters are brave, but I know of only a few brave enough to honestly approach the boss with this kind of issue. Most firefighters would rather talk behind someone’s back than help solve the problem. Still, someone should approach the chief and give him the scoop on the floor talk. Believe me: You’d do the chief (and your department) a favor by warning him of a potential morale issue. You would also give him an opportunity to rethink what—if anything—he’s done wrong. Finally, you’d be alerting him to a real safety concern. But make sure no one else in your department looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy before you approach the boss.
So if the chief swears his kid passed the test and won’t talk about the matter, what can you do? If you want to act like a typical firefighter, keep whining and make things worse. If you want to work in a more positive direction, spearhead a department training effort. Each member of your department (including the portly ones) should raise ladders, stretch lines, lift heavy items, climb ladders and crawl the floors on a regular basis. The chief’s kid will have to participate in these strenuous (and fat-burning) exercises if they’re part of a department-mandated training program. When he takes part, make sure you support his efforts and guide him. Not only will it help him, but it will make the other firefighters feel better about his kid’s tactical abilities (and perhaps minimize gossip).
In my experience, aggressive fire training programs with plenty of hands-on activities weed out incompetent, out-of-shape individuals. When I say hands on, I don’t mean hands on the TV remote to watch fire training videos. I mean down-and-dirty, tactical training led by someone who knows how to instruct. In this case, the kid will either realize he has to get into shape or he’ll fade away.
Another option: mandatory physical training. For years, volunteers have said that they’re as good as paid firefighters. I say prove it. Not that all paid firefighters are in great shape, but odds are they’re in better shape than most vollies.
Years ago, I visited a volunteer department in western Pennsylvania that had bi-weekly aerobics classes—all members participated. Watching these dancing bears prance around was pretty amazing. But their chief set the example and led the program. Not only did it contribute to good fitness, but they had a ball doing it. Maybe you could get something similar going in your department. I’m sure you have an old Village People eight-track sitting around—that should get your crew’s blood stirring. My point: A little creativity can solve a problem. If your members aren’t dancers, get some workout equipment and set up a small section of the firehouse like a gym. Whatever you do, try to create a positive environment that makes everyone want to get involved. Don’t ridicule anyone or make them feel alone, no matter what they look like.
Well, Fit-and-Trim Jim, since you are so fit and trim, you’re probably the right person to create an atmosphere where everyone wants to participate—including the chief’s kid. Have the bravery to shuffle past the empty McDonald’s bags and approach the chief—for all the right reasons—and let him know your genuine concerns. Don’t tell him “we” have a problem. Just tell him (in a positive tone) your issues. Treat him the way you wanna be treated. Then suggest some of the ideas we talked about and get the OK to implement them. If you really wanna test your brotherhood skills, pry the chief’s son away from the candy machine and talk to the kid. Let him know in a supportive way that this is a real concern that affects everyone riding on that apparatus with him.
Through direct discussion, training or related exercise programs, you can help fix this problem. Then life can get back to normal and you and your crew can revisit critical issues, such as what hose load to use, who gets to drive at the next parade and—my all time favorite—should the green beans at this year’s fire department banquet have mushrooms or almonds.
