Everybody has done something, which upon later reflection, they regretted. You have heard people say, “That was the stupidest thing I have ever done.” Hospital emergency rooms are full of them.
For the general public it may result in a broken bone, an electrical shock, a minor burn or and increase in insurance rates. For those of us in the fire service the consequences can much more dire and severe.
We have a hard-to-control natural desire to spring into action when we arrive at an emergency. For the most part, this response is a good thing. That is how we put a good stop or a knock on a fire. This is how lives are saved.
However, there has to be somebody there to put the brakes on things when we exceed the boundaries of good sense.
Voices in my head
I attended two epic misadventures when good sense went out the window. On one occasion I heard the voice of reason.
By the way, if you hear a voice in your head saying, “This may not be a good idea” it probably isn’t. I routinely hear voices but it is rarely that of good sense and reason.
The first debacle involved a vacant, run down house out in the county. We were dispatched to a house fire with the local volunteer company. We arrived first and found a one-story boarded up house blazing away. The house was fenced with 10-foot-tall weeds.
We pulled a pre-connect with lightning efficiency and were at the front door in a flash. After prying off the plywood covering the lower half of the door we squeezed into the house. Our first problem was there was no flooring so we had to straddle the floor joists to get to a floor in the next room.
That light-bulb moment
After a few minutes it dawned on me how ridiculous this was. I told my cohort for the day that we needed to get out of there. It was like a light came on. He immediately heard the voice. He agreed.
We backed out and began spraying water at the house from the exterior, which fell in moments later. We then went about putting out the trash fire that was a trash fire when we arrived.
Sometimes it just takes somebody to say it and jolt everybody into realizing what is going on.
Going up
The second incident was also many decades ago, but unfortunately none of us heard the voice that day. I was working with two young firefighters who have gone on to become captains in major cities — both are great guys and even better firefighters.
We were dispatched to an unknown type fire at a port facility. Upon arrival at the gate the problem was plain to see. A large overhead crane used for unloading ships was ablaze.
It was your typical crane with a small building for the operator with a large boom extending out. However, what made this different was the crane was built atop a large tower so it could extend out over ships to unload cargo.
My two associates hopped out in their protective gear and SCBA. After looking up and squinting at the crane they decided to go up to suppress the blaze. At the base of the tower was a firefighting station common in some industrial settings — how convenient — with a roll of fire hose.
The hose was that rubber lined and rubber jacketed hose that came out in the 1980s. It seemed like a good idea as you could rinse it off and load it wet.
The only problem was it stuck on everything it came in contact with. When you were stretching it you lost a person at ever turn.
The best laid plans
The dynamic duo began climbing up to the towering inferno in a barrel ladder, one with a protective cage around it. This was no easy task. Wearing the firefighting ensemble complete with a bulky air tank (this was in the 1980s), they had to climb flat against the rungs. Their tanks were clanging on the cage the entire way up.
I was the driver so I had arrived without protective clothing on. Naturally I hurriedly dressed as not to miss the fun. However, I decided to size up the situation a little better and do a 360.
Upon looking at the front of the crane I noticed another ladder. This one didn’t have a cage on it and went up halfway to a platform then continued on to the crane. I decided to go this route.
After designating a hard-hatted port worker to stay by the valve and supply water upon signal I began climbing. The first leg was uneventful. I arrived at the midway platform easily.
Thumbs up
I was slightly above the deck of a docked ship. Some sailors who had assembled on deck to watch the show cheered me on. I of course gave them the thumbs up.
I climbed up to the crane itself. I remember looking over and being even with the ship’s radar. When I arrived at the top I stepped off the ladder and onto a sloped metal surface.
Here is when things go awry. The metal surface was wet with hydraulic oil and diesel from the burning crane. I was wearing rubber boots. I slid hopelessly backwards. Tonya Harding would have been proud of how effortlessly I was gliding around.
In every ill-conceived project there is a moment of realization that this perhaps wasn’t the best of ideas. It sometimes is only a nanosecond or less. Sometimes there is ample time to review the lack of good sense and planning.
Slip-sliding away, I was at that moment and there was going to be plenty of time on the way down to review what had gone wrong.
The hands of fate
At that exact moment an arm came out of the smoke and grabbed me by my SCBA strap and pulled me in. Thank God. I was much safer in the 10- by 15-foot burning metal room.
We retreated on to a walkway outside the crane and signaled our new friend to supply water.
The hose gurgled and spit out some rust colored dust followed by some rusted pieces of metal. Then water began to dribble out at about the force you would get from one of those old water fountains in school.
To this day, whenever I run into one of those guys we always exchange pleasantries about kids, work, life and so forth. Then one will always say, “Do you remember that crane fire?”
I am trying to forget it.
There are a lot of matrixes on risk analysis you can go by. Did we accomplish anything that day? Absolutely not.
It is a great time of year, my favorite. World Series, hockey, football, fall foliage, cool air, hunting and the flounder are biting. Happy Thanksgiving and let me hear from you.
