Everyone always asks me “what is the worst thing you’ve seen on the job”? For some, they mean what is the most gruesome, some mean the most scary, some don’t really care and just need a conversation starter. No matter their motive I never know what to tell them. I don’t want them to get too curious. I keep accumulating stories that I’m too afraid to share.
I work in a small suburban area outside of a major city as a firefighter. The area lacks a highway, rivers, and train tracks; it’s primarily a swath of residential streets, woods, and commercial properties. I work in what essentially amounts to your typical township, borough, municipality, village, or whatever term is used in your part of the country.
At this point, I am not ready to reveal where I am. Rather than to avoid being doxxed, this is for your safety. I don’t care if you know who I am. My only concern is to not have anyone poke around until I’m sure of what’s going on. I suppose this is my opportunity to share the stories people always inquire about without putting those close to me in jeopardy.
When I was at the academy we had the typical firefighter as one of our instructors. The gear he wore contained so much soot that even a washing machine wouldn’t have helped, and he was often found with an unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth just below his bushy mustache. His pot-belly aside, this man was a badass and well respected. It seemed like he knew everything and was able to assist in my class no matter their issue. I saw him talk the most claustrophobic firefighter through confined space drills, firefighters who were afraid of heights thought nothing of repelling from the ladder truck if he was helping them, and cadets who were just having a bad day would talk to him and they’d be instantly cheerful. He had a slick tongue and could talk anyone into doing anything.
I never thought I had fears before the academy. Sure, I was afraid of the dentist, but I could go on rollercoasters without worrying about the dizzying heights. I could go on long walks at night without worrying about the creeping darkness. During college my pledge master put a burlap sack over my head during intense hazing sessions and even that didn’t phase me. I didn’t have the same power of persuasion as my instructor where I could help out my classmates but I never found myself needing to go to him to talk me through a frightening situation.
That changed near the end of my time at the academy. We were conducting search and rescue operations with live fire using a dummy called Rescue Randy. Rescue Randy is basically a mannequin but is more lifelike than the mannequins you see at Target modeling clothes. Randy had a face, joints that can move like a real person, and the weight is distributed as if Randy was real. During one drill, Randy was positioned on a bed in the fire room. This evolution was to simulate a guy that was smoking a cigarette in bed and happened to fall asleep.
We started at the front door with instructions to make our way to the bedroom and see if there were any civilians. As I crab walked down the hallway to stay below the smoke, I could feel something was wrong. I thought it was adrenaline but this was something I hadn’t felt at all before in the prior three months at the academy. I turned to my partner, Ruiz, and nodded at him inquisitively. You’re always supposed to be in contact with your partner, never being without them in an immediately dangerous to life or health environment. Ruiz gave me a thumbs up and I continued down the hallway. He must not have felt what I had.
I entered the bedroom to see it was obvious the room was on fire but there was survivable space. In this situation, your partner stays at the door to monitor and the lead firefighter - me in this case - makes a quick sweep of the room to try and grab the victim. We call saves, “grabs” in the industry. It’s a situation that puts the feather in the cap of any firefighter, adding a touch of machismo to a firefighter’s reputation.
With Ruiz at the door, visibility for him was low. However, he knew where I was if I needed help. As I crawled towards the bed to search, Rescue Randy suddenly sat straight up. Only it wasn’t Randy. It was an old woman. What was left of her wrinkled skin was sloughing off from the flames licking her body. Oddly she didn’t appear to be in pain or panicking. I sure panicked. I thought I was hallucinating. There was no way anyone else could have been in there. The academy sat on a secluded and secure campus. A homeless woman wouldn’t have been able to wander in, let alone remain that calm in that situation.
I began screaming for Ruiz. It’s nearly impossible to hear with a breathing apparatus and mask on. I was so frightened that my screams must have been at a level that I can’t even describe. As soon as Ruiz got to me, I looked back at the woman only to find her gone. There was just Rescue Randy laying on the bed that was now being taken over with fire. Ruiz helped me make the grab of Randy and we made our way out of the burn building. Luckily Ruiz didn’t hear or see why I was yelling. At least if he did he has never said anything to me about it since. As far as I know he just thought I was getting his attention to help me make the grab.
I knew if I admitted this to anyone I’d be classified as unstable, necessitating mental support, and maybe even expulsion from the academy. I knew I could trust my slick-tongued instructor. After the evolutions were done and we were packing up I stayed behind to talk to him. Before I could even get any words out, he winked at me and said, “I see you’ve met Susan”. The comforting look in his eyes had transformed. It was neither menacing nor reassuring. It was almost as if he was able to lock into some unknown fear of mine. I don’t know whether he was an angel meant to help me get over my fears or a devilish presence sent to antagonize me. All I know is that as soon as my class graduated, he retired, and I can’t find any trace of him online.
The alarm is sounding for my next call, so I will need to update you with more of my experiences later. I just need to take the extra second to compose myself because I know as soon as I slide down the pole and run to my locker, Susan will be leaning against it watching me as I don my gear.