"Proud to be a Volunteer"

By: Cindy Nicklas, Published 1999

Tone goes off, fire whistle blows, I awake with a start.  Jump out of bed, grab some clothes and pull on my boots.  Out of the house in less than two minutes, not bad timing.  Run to the truck and jump in, hoping it'll start and get me to the station.

As I pull out onto the rain slicked street I hear the distorted voice of another fireman asking for directions from the dispatcher on the radio.  She tensely tells him and he acknowledges, both of us knowing that by the description just given we have only minutes to get there in order to really help.  It's a structure fire, the family is home, and a neighbor who's just coming home from working the graveyard shift calls it in to the sheriff's office.  He has stated that the house is in flames and he's going to to try to save the family.  I quickly pull into the station and get into my bunker gear, jump on the fire truck and away we go.  My buddies and I all say a silent prayer, "Dear God, please watch over us and help us to do our job and God, please protect that family."

Lights flashing, sirens screaming through the night as we race to the scene.  After what seemed like hours but was actually only minutes we finally arrive.  Why is it that the directions always seem to be like looking for a needle in a haystack?  It seems that the neighbor in his excitement forgot to tell the dispatcher that he and his brother's house were in the back of their parents property, and of course as luck would have it the road is unmarked.  Flames light up the night sky, reaching heights of 30 to 40 feet.

We get into position, "charge the line" yells my buddy, the guy at the truck works the pump and we begin our fight with the beast.  Some of the neighbors are now watching and waiting to see what happens after being awakened by the loud sirens.  Another member tries to locate the family and the neighbor who called in to report the fire.  We hear screams and cold chills run down our spines.  All of us look to each other and do a silent head count, it's not one of us, we're all accounted for.  Just then we hear glass shattering and I turn to see that the car parked next to the house is now windowless.  The fire is so intense that the windows in that car just shattered.  We hear another scream, we're now told the family is still inside as well as the neighbor.  The flames dance around as if they were mocking us.  The lead man and his partner make their way inside the house and the rest of us are strategically placed trying to tame this wild beast.  We hear him yell out, "we got 'em".  The rest of the members join together and help carry the victims to safety as the firemen bring them out of the burning house.  EMS is on hand to take care of the victims and with the help of all of us they still might have a chance.  We continue to battle the blaze and once again the screams of the sirens blare through the night as they transport the family to the hospital.  Our lead team is back in checking what's left of the house making sure everybody is out. 

"Watch out" a voice yells at me and as I turn to see what they're talking about, I am suddenly face down in the mud.  I do a quick mental check to see if I'm okay and sure enough I am.  Feeling somewhat humbled I realize that the porch has given way causing me to fall.  My partner checks with me and I given him the thumbs up sign reassuring him that I am okay, other than a slightly bruised ego.

We continue to spray more water until we finally have the fire out.  Another team grabs rakes, shovels, and picks and proceed to pull apart what's left of the home to ensure that we have gotten out all the hot-spots.

We start the process of racking and cleaning hose, refueling trucks, refilling tanks, and get them ready to roll for the next call.  I happen to look at my watch and realize that I have to be at work in two hours, just barely enough time to get the trucks back to the station and grab a quick shower.

Curious on-lookers appear to be shaken and somewhat surprised as they viewed this awesome undertaking.  Whispers range from one to another, the general gist of it being "did you see what those firemen did?" "did you know that they are all volunteers?"  Someone else says, "no way, you gotta be joking", "there ain't no way I'd get up in the middle of the night to go fight a fire, especially if I wasn't getting paid for it".  A smile touches my face as I think to myself, that's okay mister, we do get paid for it...not in real dollars that you can put in your pocket, but in a sense of pride, a feeling of making a difference...you know, that feeling is called volunteering.

And I'M PROUD TO BE A VOLUNTEER!!!