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A Fireman's Prayer
When I am called to
duty, God Wherever Flames may rage
Give me the strength to save some
life Whatever Be its age
Help me embrace a little child
Before it is too late Or save an
older person from The horror of
that fate Enable me to be
alert and Hear the weakest shout
And quickly and efficiently
To put the fire out I want to
fill my calling and To give the
best in me To guard my
every neighbor And protect their
property And if according to your
will I have to lose my life
Please bless with your protecting
hand My children and my
wife
A Firefighter's Pledge
I promise concern for
others. A willingness to help all those
in need. I promise courage
- courage to face and conquer
my fears. Courage to share and
endure the ordeal of those
who need me. I promise strength -
strength of heart to bear
whatever burdens might be
placed upon me. Strength of
body to deliver to safety
all those placed within my care. I
promise the wisdom to lead, the
compassion to comfort, and
the love to serve unselfishly
whenever I am called.
-Author Unknown
Gone But Not Forgotten
Brother when you weep
for me Remember that it was
meant to be Lay me down and when
you leave Remember
I'll be at your sleeve In
every dark and choking hall I'll be
there as you slowly crawl On
every roof in driving snow I'll
hold your coat and you will know
In cellars hot with searing
heat At windows where a
gate you meet In closets where
young children hide You know I'll
be there at your side The
house from which I now respond Is
overstaffed with heroes
gone Men who answered one last
bell Did the job and did it
well As firemen we understand
That death's a card dealt in
our hand A card we hope we
never play But one we hold
there anyway That card is
something we ignore As we crawl
across a weakened floor For
we know that we're the only
prayer For anyone that might be
there So remember as you
wipe your tears The joy I
knew throughout the years As I
did the job I loved
to do I pray that thought will see you
through.
-Author Unknown
The Last Alarm
My father was a
fireman. He drove a big red truck and
when he'd go to work each day
he'd say, "Mother wish me
luck." Then Dad would not
come home again 'til sometime
the next day. But the thing that
bothered me the most was
things some folks would say,
"A fireman's life is easy, he eats
and sleeps and plays, and
sometimes he won't fight a fire for
days."
When I first heard these words I was young to
understand, but I knew when
people had trouble Dad was
there to lend a hand. Then my
father went to work one day
and kissed us all goodbye, but
little did we realize that night
we would all cry. My father lost
his life that night when the
floor gave way below and I'd
wondered why he'd risk his life
for someone he did not
know. But, now I truly realize the
greatest gift a man can give is
to lay his life upon the line so
that someone else might
live. So as we go from day to day
and we pray to
God above, say a prayer for your local
fireman. He may save the one's you love.
-Jim Martinez, IAFF
The Night
Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town,
the fire siren echoed blaring its sound.
The firefighters came running from far and from near,
and raced to the trucks quickly donning their gear.
And I in my bunkers my boots and my hat,
jumped to the engine to see where the fire's at.
Down at the corner of Fifth and of Oak,
the dispatcher informed us of a house filled with smoke.
Smoke poured from the sides, from up and from down,
yet up on the roof there was none to be found.
So up to the rooftop we raised up a ladder,
and climbed to the top to see what was the matter.
I came to the chimney and what did I see,
but a fellow in red stuck past his knees.
Well we tugged and we pulled until he came out,
then he winked with his eye and said with a shout.
"These darn newfangled chimneys they make them too small,
for a fellow as I, not skinny at all."
With a twitch of his nose he dashed to his sleigh,
and called to his reindeer, "AWAY now, AWAY."
As we rolled up our hoses he flew out of sight,
saying "God bless our firefighters" and to all a good
night.
I Wish You Could
I wish you could see
the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in
flames or that family returning
home, only to find their house and belongings
damaged or destroyed.
I wish you could know what
it is to search a burning bedroom for trapped
children, flames rolling above
your head, your palms and knees burning as
you crawl, the floor
sagging under your weight as the kitchen beneath you
burns.
I wish you
could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 A.M. as I check her
husband of forty years for a pulse
and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping
against hope to bring him back,
knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting
his wife and family to know everything possible was done.
I wish you could know the
unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of
intense heat through your turnout gear, the
sound of flames crackling,
and the eeriness of being able to see absolutely
nothing in dense
smoke--"sensations that I have becomed too familiar
with."
I wish you could understand how it
feels to go to school in the morning after
having spent most of the night,
hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm fire.
I wish you could read my mind as I
respond to a building fire, `Is this a false
alarm or a working, breathing
fire? How is the building constructed? What
hazards await me? Is anyone
trapped?' or to an EMS call, `What is wrong
with the patient? Is it minor or
life-threatening? Is the caller really in distress
or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?'
I wish you could be in the emergency
room as the doctor pronounces dead the
beautiful little five-year old
girl that I have been trying to save during the past
twenty-five minutes, who will
never go on her first date or say the words, "I
love you Mommy!", again.
I wish you could know the frustration I
feel in the cab of the engine, the driver
with his foot pressing down
hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and
again at the air horn chain, as
you fail to yield right-of-way at an intersection
or in traffic. When you need us,
however, your first comment upon our arrival
will be, "It took you forever to get here!"
I wish you could read my thoughts
as I help extricate a girl of teenage years
from the mangled remains of her
automobile, `What if this were my sister, my
wife, or a friend? What were her
parents' reactions going to be as they open
the door to find a police officer, HAT IN HAND?'
I wish you could know how
it feels to walk in the back door and greet my
wife, parents and family, not
having the heart to tell them that you nearly did
not come home from this last call.
I wish you could feel my hurt as
people verbally, and sometimes physically,
abuse us or belittle what I
do, or as they express their attitudes of, "It will
never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the
physical, emotional, and mental drain of missed
meals, lost sleep and forgone social
activities, in addition to all the tragedy my
eyes have viewed.
I wish you could know the
brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a
life or preserving
someone's property, of being there in times of crisis, or
creating order from total CHAOS.
I wish you could understand what
it feels like to have a little boy tugging on
your arm and asking, "Is my
mommy o.k.?" Not even being able to look in
his eyes without tears falling
from your own and not knowing what to say. Or
to have hold back a long-time
friend who watches his buddy having rescue
breathing done on him as they take
him away in the ambulance. You knowing
all along he did not have his
seat belt on--sensations that I have become too
familiar.
Unless you have lived this
kind of life, you will never truly understand or
appreciate who
I am, what we are, or what our job really means to us.
I WISH YOU COULD!
-unknown author
Remembering a Firefighter
"Hey Mom!" he yelled from the attic door
"What’s these old
boots and hard hat for?"
With a lump in her throat
and a tear-stained
cheek, His mother
swallowed and started to
speak.
"Come here, my son", his mother said,
"There’s things to tell
when I clear my head."
The past raced madly through her
mind. She
searched her heart, the
words to find. At last
she sighed and rubbed his hair
And the words
that followed I’d like to share.
"Those old boots
and hat", she said with pride,
"Were worn
by a man with grit inside. He
wore them to
help people in need, Though
facing danger, would never
concede, Many a
time in the dead of night
He jumped in those
boots and flashed out of sight To
answer a call
and not knowing
for sure What danger or
heartache he may have to endure.
Your father, my
son, was not like most dads; It
was mainly because of the job he
had. His life
was devoted to all of mankind, And just
why he
chose it is unclear in my mind.
But I’m proud
to say that I was a part Of a man who
possessed such a courageous heart.
Though, for all his discomfort and all of his
pain The time he spent here was
never in vain.
So the memories I’ll
keep and the love I will
save, Though small
consolations for the life
that he gave.
Your father’s days here made others seem
brighter,
For your father, my son, was a
firefighter."
In Memory of
Lieutenant Lawrence "Ju Ju"
Roche Died on the fire scene
August 27, 1996
Harahan Fire Department, Harahan,
Louisiana
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