I'll Show You A Volunteer

Show me a person who spends endless hours in training without pay, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person where a cry for help brings split-second dispatch, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is devastated when lives are lost or maimed, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is graciously welcomed as a next-door neighbor, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who takes ridicule more than compliments, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person whose car is garaged with the grille facing out, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who sacrifices homelife, TV... even tender moments, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person visibly moved at the strains of our National Anthem, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who may be asked to give more than just dedication, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

Show me a person who is asked to give more... and more... and more, And, I'll show you a volunteer.

--Author Unknown

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 girlfriend, 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 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 held 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.

---author unknown

I want to tell that little boy his Mom will be just fine, I want to tell that dad we got his daughter out in time, I want to tell that wife her husband will be home tonight, I don't want to tell it like it is, I want to tell them lies.

You didn't put their seat belts on, you feel you killed your kids, I want to say you didn't .. but in a way, you did, You pound your fists into my chest, you're hurting so inside, I want to say you'll be ok, I want to tell you lies.

You left chemicals within his reach and now it's in his eyes, I want to say your son will see, not tell you he'll be blind, You ask me if he'll be OK, with pleading in your eyes. I want to say that yes he will, I want to tell you lies.

I can see you're crying as your life goes up in smoke, If you'd maintained that smoke alarm, your children may have woke, Don't grab my arm and ask me if your family is alive, Don't make me tell you they're all dead, I want to tell you lies.

I want to say she'll be ok, you didn't take her life, I hear you say you love her and you'd never hurt your wife, You thought you didn't drink too much, you thought that you could drive, I don't want to say how wrong you were, I want to tell you lies.

You only left her for a moment, it happens all the time, How could she have fell from there? You thought she couldn't climb, I want to say her neck's not broke, that she will be just fine, I don't want to say she's paralyzed, I want to tell you lies.

I want to tell this teen his buddies didn't die in vain, Because he thought that it'd be cool to try to beat that train. I don't want to tell him this will haunt him all his life, I want to say that he'll forget, I want to tell him lies.

You left the cabinet open and your daughter found the gun, Now you want me to undo the damage that's been done, You tell me she's your only child, you say she's only five, I don't want to say she won't see six, I want to tell you lies.

He fell into the pool when you just went to grab the phone, It was only for a second that you left him there alone, If you let the damn phone ring perhaps your boy would be alive, But I don't want to tell you that, I want to tell you lies.

The fact that you were speeding caused that car to overturn, And we couldn't get them out of there before the whole thing burned, Did they suffer? Yes, they suffered, as they slowly burned alive, But I don't want to say those words, I want to tell you lies.

But I have to tell it like it is, until my shift is through, And then the real lies begin, when I come home to you, You ask me how my day was, and I say it was just fine, I hope you understand, sometimes, I have to tell you lies.

Dedicated to all the Police Officers, Firefighters, EMTs, Paramedics, Emergency Flight Crews, Emergency Physicians and Emergency Nurses who deal with the tragedies of life and death.

The saddest of all, being those that involve children, and could have been prevented.

Author unknown