| Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed below are not those of FireRescue1 staff or our affiliates. We do, however, hope you get a good laugh in. |
By Robert Kirby
The Salt Lake Tribune
Copyright 2007 The Salt Lake Tribune
All Rights Reserved
I didn’t care for firefighters back when I was a cop. They would show up at a fire, hack and squirt the place into a mess, and then leave with all the good media coverage.
The public loves firefighters because they never arrest people, just fire. The only time cops willingly combined forces with “hose bunnies” and “nozzle nuts” was when a kid was in danger.
However, last week I got a call from the West Valley City bucket monkeys - excuse me, firefighters - inviting me to train with them for a day. I said no. I may only be a journalist now, but I still have some self-respect.
Then I thought, “Hey, all they do is spray water on fires. How tough can that be?”
A lot, as it turned out. I really have to stop thinking so hard.
On Saturday, I showed up at a West Valley firehouse with a bunch of other clueless citizens. It was not a class. It was training. For several hours we crawled, climbed, dragged, coughed and got lost.
First, we dressed in firefighter suits called “turnout gear.” It’s pretty much like wearing the hide of a freshly skinned rhino. Accessories include a helmet the size of a Volkswagen, boots, oxygen tank and mask.
We were divided into threes. Four is safer, but three is realistic because of understaffing. Fellow crew members were Nicole and Aimee. As the team’s only man, I was automatically the largest, strongest and most not-in-charge.
We were led to a door through which a hole had been chopped and told to crawl inside and rescue a victim. Breathing like Darth Vader, we got down and squirmed through the hole.
The room was filled with smoke and blacker than a politician’s heart. I held onto Nicole’s foot and crawled around blindly until we bumped into the victim by accident. It was exactly like I remember college, except there was no beer.
After the smoke house we practiced our paramedic skills on a heart attack “victim.” Fortunately it was another rubber dummy, because even the Resurrection couldn’t fix what we did to it.
The best part of the course was crash rescue. We used power equipment and cut the roof off a minivan. I have always wanted to do that.
I was exhausted when we finished. Rescuing people is a tough job. Firefighters do it understaffed and underequipped. If my life ends as badly as I expect it will, I want them trying to save me.
In the meantime, call Nicole, Aimee and me if your cat gets stuck in a tree. We know how to get it down with a high pressure hose and the Jaws of Life.