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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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