By Eric Giacchino, Firefighter/Paramedic
Engine 6, Vancouver, Wash. Fire/Rescue
The following is an account of one particularly interesting day in the life of the Vancouver, Wash. Fire Department’s E-86 Company.
We knew it was going to be a good day since Capt. Schuman was gone, Firefighter Ron Bishop was set to ride backward and I was scheduled to drive. The call came in with the usual 86 tap-out: “Charlie, response for unknown problem ... 39th and Main.”
“Oh yeah, the old ampm,” I said to myself as we dropped everything and moved to the rig. “I know it well.”
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| PHOTO ERIC GIACCHINO Firefighter Ron Bishop makes the cut at the 76 station bathroom. |
We climbed aboard, hit the ignition, opened the garage doors, fastened seatbelts, threw on our headsets, put the rig in drive, hit the lights, did a final mirror check, slowly eased the rig onto the pad, hit the grinder and rolled into the street, heading northbound two blocks to 39th and Main.
“ampm?” I confirmed with Capt. Nick “Lazz” Lazzaretto.
“Nope,” he calmly stated as he pushed buttons and tried to read the MDC. “It’s the 76 station. Someone’s been locked in the bathroom for 45 minutes and they’re not responding. VPD’s on scene.”
The access and parking situation at the 76 station was terrible, but there was a nice alley in the back to park the rig out of the way. I remembered this as I went over the drug overdose protocol in my head.
“Narcan nasally or I.M.,” I recited, before reviewing the V-tac/V-fib protocol. “Don’t shock Asystole; CPR 2 minutes; no more Epi or Lidocaine — it’s now Vasopressin and Amioderone. OK, I got this.” Then my ADD really kicked in as I noticed the price of gas had finally begun coming down. $2.75 at the 76 station — not bad.
“Hmm, they’ve been in there 45 minutes,” I thought to myself. “This could be ugly. Why doesn’t that car move so I can park there? Stay focused!”
I parked the rig, climbed out, grabbed the kits (including suction) and headed in. Officer Aaron Gibson confirmed the MDC notes.
“They’re not responding. I told them to unlock the door or we’ll have to break in,” he said with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders. “Clerk says he went in about 45 minutes ago and hasn’t come out yet.”
I pounded on the door and checked the lock. Lazz checked the lock a second time, and Bishop evaluated the lock and metal door jamb. We all agreed that the circular saw was the best course of action to make entry. Bishop headed out to get the saw and warned the clerk, “It’s going to get loud in here.”
AMR arrived and we quickly briefed them on the plan. “So we’ll work the code right here?” Lazz asked. “You’ve got all your kits if we have to do this?”
“Yep! We’ll make some space, move this stuff and do it right here,” I responded.
AMR and the store clerk began to move merchandise and get ready. Bear-claws, Slurpee cups and beef jerky were all tossed aside to make room.
Bishop returned in full safety gear: helmet, coat and gloves. The saw was already running. His experience showed as he measured and prepared to make his cut. He leaned in against the saw, cutting with precision, grace and power. A shower of sparks flew and exhaust filled the store as the mighty Stihl easily cut through the deadbolt. Everyone covered their ears.
Pride welled up from my stomach as I watched Bishop make quick work of the reinforced steel door. “What a cool job,” I thought as I eyed the Mountain Dew Slurpees. “Maybe later.”
As Bishop moved aside and killed the saw, we stepped forward to open the door and go to work. After all the foolproof planning and mental preparation, we were completely let down to find the bathroom was ...yep, you guessed it, empty. But it sure was fun.
That’s just how we roll at the 6.
Eric Giacchino is a firefighter/paramedic with Engine 6, Vancouver, Wash. Fire/Rescue.