Let Burn
Let Burn
Rachel K. Wentz
Copyright Date: 2013
Published by: Michigan State University Press
Pages: 286
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.14321/j.ctt7zt90x
Search for reviews of this book
Book Info
Let Burn
Book Description:

In 1985, desiring a meaningful, high-paced career in public service, Rachel Wentz left her university studies to become a firefighter/paramedic. Only the eighth woman hired by the Orlando Fire Department, a highly competitive department steeped in tradition, Wentz excelled, completing an AS in Fire Science, a master's in public administration, and numerous specialized training courses to prepare her for an administrative position within the department. Wentz spent eleven years with OFD, experiencing a career that was every bit as exciting and challenging as she had sought. A moving, candid, and eloquent memoir,Let Burnrecounts her experiences as a firefighter/paramedic, during which time she witnessed aspects of life and death few people are privy to, experiences that shaped her as a professional and as a person. From the rigorous demands of training to the extraordinary calls Wentz responded to,Let Burndetails the gratifying aspects of the field, but also demonstrates the precarious nature of the job: a heated altercation at the scene of an industrial fire leads to Wentz losing almost everything she's worked for and the dramatic end of a storied career. In vivid detail,Let Burnprovides a firsthand glimpse into the hidden world of firefighting and emergency medicine.

eISBN: 978-1-60917-357-9
Subjects: History
You do not have access to this book on JSTOR. Try logging in through your institution for access.
Log in to your personal account or through your institution.
Table of Contents
Export Selected Citations Export to NoodleTools Export to RefWorks Export to EasyBib Export a RIS file (For EndNote, ProCite, Reference Manager, Zotero, Mendeley...) Export a Text file (For BibTex)
Select / Unselect all
  1. Front Matter
    Front Matter (pp. [i]-[vi])
  2. Table of Contents
    Table of Contents (pp. [vii]-[x])
  3. INTRODUCTION
    INTRODUCTION (pp. 1-4)

    Each of us is the sum of our experiences. Our personalities are carved out by events in our lives, just as water carves out a canyon. Torrents tear away the walls of our psyche, leaving voids where solid ground once stood. Steady currents strip away our interior, shaping us in ways that can only be seen later, on reflection. Painful memories become smooth, like a stone in a river, their edges worn away over time.

    For thirteen years I worked as a firefighter/paramedic, primarily for the Orlando Fire Department (OFD). I began my career working for a small department just...

  4. Part One. Into the Field
    • GETTING STARTED
      GETTING STARTED (pp. 7-8)

      I never intended to become a firefighter; I knew nothing of the profession. My introduction to the fire service was the result of my interest in medicine. I was attending the University of Central Florida, studying my first love, anthropology. But I knew that a future in anthropology meant years of study and I was young and impatient. I wanted the freedom that came with financial independence from my parents, which meant settling on a career in which I could be trained and educated within a reasonable time frame. The most important thing to me was a job that was...

    • DOWN AND OUT
      DOWN AND OUT (pp. 9-12)

      The roots of our nation’s emergency medical services (EMS) actually began in Europe during Napoleon’s military campaigns of the early 1800s. His physician, Dominique-Jean Larrey, was one of the first to note that expedient ground transport of injured soldiers to field hospitals could improve survival rates. These practices were later incorporated into American military campaigns. During World War I, the first field “medics” accompanied ground soldiers onto the battlefield. By World War II, medics were cross-trained as soldiers, and the era of the combat medic was born. During the Korean and Vietnam conflicts, helicopters became the most expedient means of...

    • A BRAVE NEW WORLD
      A BRAVE NEW WORLD (pp. 13-16)

      I developed an early fascination with trauma. Whether it was blunt force injuries from falls, penetrating injuries from shootings or stabbings, or dismemberments that accompany high-speed collisions, I was intrigued by injury patterns and the complex methods of treating someone with multisystem trauma. When it came time to begin riding in the field, I told my instructor I wanted as much action as possible, the busiest truck in the city. He advised me that if I wanted action, there was only one place to go: Orlando Fire Department’s Rescue 2.

      Station 2 was one of eleven fire stations that protected...

    • LOSS
      LOSS (pp. 17-18)

      Following my graduation from high school three years previously, my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. It appeared not as a lump, but as a small indentation in her breast she happened to notice one morning in the mirror. She was diagnosed, had a radical mastectomy, and took chemotherapy for a year. It was a difficult year of illness, treatment, and hair loss. She pulled through that year with stoicism and grace, never revealing her fears and frustrations.

      For three years she was fine. Her exams and scans were negative and we had begun to breathe a bit easier....

    • PART-TIMER
      PART-TIMER (pp. 19-20)

      Following my first day at Station 2, I immediately began researching the qualifications for becoming a firefighter. Through my research, I found out that there were smaller departments within Orange County that relied on part-time staff to augment their full-time personnel. The part-timers were paid per call and sometimes sponsored through the fire academy. The City of Maitland was one such department.

      Maitland Fire Department is a small, well-funded department that provides fire and emergency medical services to the predominantly upper-middle-class residents of the municipality. The department consists of a single fire station located in the heart of its small...

    • TRAINING DAY
      TRAINING DAY (pp. 21-24)

      There comes a point in every new firefighter’s career when he or she must face the first training fire. Mine came when Maitland was invited to participate in a “live fire training” with several surrounding county agencies.

      The training fire was held at a large, three-story wooden hotel in the rural town of Zellwood. Here several agencies got together to spare the owner the expense of having his less-than-profitable hotel demolished. Instead, they would make it a learning experience for inexperienced grunts like myself by giving us a taste of real fire.

      The day was hot and muggy and we...

    • CLASS #64
      CLASS #64 (pp. 25-30)

      To become a firefighter in the state of Florida, a candidate must meet the qualifications set forth by the Bureau of Fire Standards and Training. When I entered the field, the Minimum Standards Class that trained and certified firefighters was just over two months in length. One could also opt for a part-time course, taught at night or on weekends. The Central Florida Fire Academy was located at the city’s technical institute. A class would begin in the fall, but I was already registered to begin paramedic school. Through luck or fate, the paramedic course was postponed and I managed...

    • THE TRAUMA ROOM
      THE TRAUMA ROOM (pp. 31-34)

      Orlando Regional Medical Center is one of seven Level I trauma centers in the state of Florida and is located just south of downtown. According to the 2007 Alliance to Save Florida’s Trauma Centers, a Level I trauma center is a “State-designated center capable of delivering the highest level of expertise and care in the shortest possible time, with capabilities that far exceed a non-trauma center hospital.” They provide a range of specialists, such as neuro, thoracic, and orthopedic surgeons available around the clock and have special facilities for treating burns and pediatrics.

      When it comes to treating traumatic injuries,...

    • HOSPITAL ROTATIONS
      HOSPITAL ROTATIONS (pp. 35-38)

      The months wore on and I completed my first semester of paramedic school. During this time, my mother’s health deteriorated. My progress through school was paralleled by her declining health, as if they were two converging paths: my increase in medical knowledge and the wasting of her slight frame. The more I learned, the more I came to recognize her impending death. In the emergency room and in the field, I was confronted by other terminal patients. I recognized the same exhaustion in their eyes, the look of quiet resignation that eventually sets in.

      The months of school are a...

    • A RAINY SUNDAY
      A RAINY SUNDAY (pp. 39-42)

      Before I knew it, my coursework was complete and I was preparing for the state exam. I passed with a 97 and was released to my “provisional” period, where I would ride with other licensed medics and work toward completing another advanced list of skills. These included performing airway intubations, defibrillating patients in cardiac arrest, starting IVs, and administering medications.

      It was one of those rainy Sunday mornings; red lights flashed over empty streets and animals kept to their dry places. I had spent the morning over steaming cups of coffee, combing the paper for relevant news and refreshing my...

    • THE TEST
      THE TEST (pp. 43-48)

      My goal from the start had been to work for OFD. As an EMT student new to the field of EMS, I listened closely to conversations of firefighters from various departments. I quickly perceived that OFD was one of the top departments in the state, with an extensive history, great benefits, and vicious competition for each position. Hiring cycles for OFD took place approximately every two years, based on demand and retirements within the department. Each of these “cycles” would consist of hundreds of applicants vying for a limited number of positions. I knew I was in for some stiff...

    • TRAIN WRECK
      TRAIN WRECK (pp. 49-52)

      Trains can be devastating machines, especially when they go up against the haphazard driving of an elderly man who thinks he and his aged Impala can beat the crossing gates. He and his car ended up several hundred feet from where he was struck, both destroyed by the impact. The train always wins.

      I was still a provisional medic, riding the ambulance under the supervision of a seasoned paramedic while I completed my checklist of skills. Some of these skills can be difficult to obtain. You can go a long time without having the opportunity to perform some of the...

    • LIFE ON AN AMBULANCE
      LIFE ON AN AMBULANCE (pp. 53-56)

      With OFD’s hiring process behind me, my name was put on a ranked list of candidates, and I awaited hire. I had completed my provisional phase as a medic and now worked for the private ambulance service in Orange County, honing my skills and biding my time. It was an excellent training ground. The call loads were heavy, since there were far fewer ambulances covering the county than there were fire stations. It was an exceptional learning experience, which lasted for about a year until I was hired by OFD.

      I was assigned to a station located in a small...

    • ALONE IN THE WOODS
      ALONE IN THE WOODS (pp. 57-60)

      For a year, I worked for a county ambulance service in a rural area of Tennessee north of Nashville. The relocation took place early in my career with OFD; I mention it now because of the similarity of working on an ambulance, yet in a very different setting. I would return to OFD shortly after.

      It was a whole new world for me. I had been trained among the pampered emergency services of central Florida, where you have an abundance of personnel and close proximity to emergency rooms. I was not used to the isolation of a rural service, nor...

    • ASSAULTS
      ASSAULTS (pp. 61-64)

      EMS can be a thankless job, particularly when the patients take out their aggression on the rescuer. I happened to be on the receiving end on several occasions, but fortunately, most of the incidents were humorous rather than dangerous.

      The humorous incidents usually involved drunks who decided they had had enough of our questions and would flail their arms in an attempt to land a punch. These were usually easy to escape. By the time the patient decided to fight, he typically lacked the ability to aim. Many times we would simply subdue the patient by strapping him down onto...

    • A SLOW SATURDAY
      A SLOW SATURDAY (pp. 65-66)

      It was one of my last shifts on the ambulance prior to beginning my career with OFD and the day was dragging. Sometimes it’s hard to fill the hours of a slow shift, especially if they fall on a weekend when the pace of the city is diminished. The hours simply creep by. It was one of those long Saturday afternoons. George and I were busying ourselves by chatting with the ER staff about recent patients, new drug therapies, and exchanging the latest hospital gossip.

      We were called out to the far edge of the county for an amputated toe....

  5. Part Two. OFD
    • ROOKIE
      ROOKIE (pp. 69-72)

      About a year after becoming a medic I was hired by OFD. I was among twelve candidates who completed a two-week orientation during which we were taught rules and regulations and OFD fire-ground tactics. At the end of the two-week period, we anxiously awaited our assignments. I had already told anyone who would listen that I wanted to be assigned to Station 2. Why in the world I would ever want to work Station 2, with its all-nighters and heavy load of homeless people, was beyond my superiors, but I couldn’t picture working anywhere else. I had spent the majority...

    • FIRST NIGHT
      FIRST NIGHT (pp. 73-74)

      My first night at Station 2 will forever live on in my memory, but not for the number of calls, the number of lives saved, or the size of the fires. It lives on in my memory as a night of fear: fear of the dreaded alert buzzer. I had become acquainted with the buzzer while a student and in that short time had come to loathe it. It was a jarring, excruciatingly loud alarm that would rattle your teeth if you happened to be standing under it when a call came in.

      As my years on the department grew...

    • DELIVERY
      DELIVERY (pp. 75-76)

      One of the few positive events for which emergency personnel are called is childbirth. The delivery of a child is fairly straightforward. In some cultures, the expectant mother, heavy with impending birth, makes her way alone to a birthing hut. There she squats in a small woven hammock especially designed for the event, delivering the infant alone. She then cuts the cord with a rudimentary knife made of local stone, wiping the mucus from the baby’s mouth and placing it gently to her breast. My first delivery was not quite as simple.

      My partner and I were called to a...

    • MAN DOWN
      MAN DOWN (pp. 77-78)

      Halloween always makes for an interesting shift. Typically crews spend the evening chasing dumpster fires started by bored kids who have outgrown trick-or-treating, yet are too young to get into the drunken street parties held downtown.

      We had spent the day carving a large pumpkin to place in front of the station, a pumpkin that would invariably end up smashed on the front sidewalk when the young hoodlums were too tired to locate another dumpster. But we carved it anyway, if only to have the seeds to bake for a late snack in between the burning containers of trash.

      We...

    • DESPERATION
      DESPERATION (pp. 79-80)

      They say in central Florida you can’t travel more than a mile without encountering a body of water. This doesn’t include the thousands of swimming pools, which look like small, blue jewels glistening in the sun when you travel by air. Thus, it amazes me that I have only been to one drowning in my thirteen years as a medic in Florida.

      He was an overweight man in his forties. He had been staying at a crummy hotel in one of the worst sections of Orlando. He was probably one step from landing in the homeless shelter, using his few...

    • SUDDENLY
      SUDDENLY (pp. 81-82)

      Some of the most disturbing calls are those in which the individual is killed instantly. To stand over a body that was, moments before, alive with thoughts, fears, and plans can truly fuck with your head. All that the person once was is now replaced by a vacant emptiness that settles in the pupils following death. These are the calls that burrow into my subconscious, peeking out at the most inopportune moments. Like when I am laughing with friends or trying to fall back to sleep at 3:00 a.m.

      Each time I was called to these scenes, I knew what...

    • THE CATCH
      THE CATCH (pp. 83-86)

      I’ve delivered four babies in my years on the job. Fortunately, all have been screaming and kicking by the time I was through with them. I was happy to retire with a perfect track record. Most of them went relatively smoothly. One of them I was barely in time for, and the mother delivered on the front seat of her car as I approached the vehicle. I managed to wrap the baby and cut the cord as she and her husband laughed and wept.

      Another I delivered in a hotel room, where a very large woman quickly delivered her fourth...

    • THE INFANT
      THE INFANT (pp. 87-90)

      When you think of Florida, you generally envision clear skies and the intensity of a tropical sun. One rarely thinks of fog. But during certain times of the year, when the cool air of morning meets the warmth of the earth and the humidity rises, a dense fog can settle on the land, even among the crowded streets of downtown.

      It was one of those mornings, when the fog had formed while we slept through a strangely quiet Saturday night. When the tones went off early the next morning, summoning us to an “infant not breathing,” we rubbed the sleep...

    • THE BURNING ROOM
      THE BURNING ROOM (pp. 91-92)

      I have only been to one house fire that involved the death of an infant. The fire occurred late at night, on one of those rare, frigidly cold winter nights in Florida. We were called to the scene after the fact. The first-arriving trucks had already put out the fire. We were there to “overhaul” the scene, which meant searching for burning embers and shoveling debris. The scene was lit by the powerful spotlights of our trucks, and the investigators carefully worked among the remains of what had previously been the small, cozy residence of an elderly couple and their...

    • UNDER THE CAMPER
      UNDER THE CAMPER (pp. 93-96)

      There are four words on a fire scene that can stop paramedics in their tracks: “We have a victim.” For a paramedic, those words signify a shift from firefighting activities to those of patient care and are usually accompanied by disappointment and disgruntled cursing. The opportunity to fight fire is a rare occurrence; patient care is the mainstay of EMS. To have the adrenaline-pumping activities of firefighting interrupted by someone complaining of smoke inhalation is rather deflating. Such was the case on a hot afternoon when we responded to a large auto repair shop for a commercial building fire.

      At...

    • DEATH BY SUICIDE
      DEATH BY SUICIDE (pp. 97-100)

      Suicide comes in many forms. They each reek of anguish, and the patient is usually left in a condition no family member should ever have to witness. That’s what amazes me about some suicides: their total disregard for the mess they leave behind. I have often wondered why people who kill themselves don’t at least have the decency to leave behind a tidy corpse.

      Many of the suicides I have been called to were extremely messy affairs. One of them, a prominent physician recently diagnosed with terminal cancer, at least had the forethought to go into the back shed of...

    • SPECIAL EFFECTS
      SPECIAL EFFECTS (pp. 101-104)

      It’s a common occurrence for a call to turn out to be of a nature completely different from the original dispatch. Many times we responded to “cardiac” calls that turned out to be stomach disorders. “Accidents with entrapment” regularly turned out to be minor crashes with no one trapped. So when we received the call for a “self-inflicted stabbing to the chest” I naturally assumed it would turn out to be something else, like a sobbing teenager who had scratched herself for attention after downing a handful of Tylenol.

      We pulled up to a well-manicured lawn as a woman in...

    • THE BOY IN THE ROAD
      THE BOY IN THE ROAD (pp. 105-108)

      It’s strange, the things you remember most about a call. Sometimes it’s an aspect of the call itself, like the time of day or season. Sometimes it’s the nature of the call, particularly if it’s traumatic. Other times it’s an aspect of the patient’s physical appearance, such as their height or weight, especially when those are extreme. For me, what stands out in my mind when I reflect on certain calls are the looks on the faces of my patients. The look of pain, frustration, fear, and desperation can leave lasting impressions. But sometimes it’s the lack of human emotion...

    • REGULARS
      REGULARS (pp. 109-112)

      The thing I loved most about EMS was the ever-changing nature of each shift. I never knew what events would unfold from hour to hour. Every day was different; no two calls were ever the same. Most jobs seem mundane in comparison.

      My short attention span was the result of my transient upbringing. I grew up a navy brat, moving every two or three years as my father progressed through the ranks. Even as a small child, I had little tolerance for regularity. No matter how content I was, after a year or so of being in one place, I...

    • THE USUAL SPOTS
      THE USUAL SPOTS (pp. 113-116)

      Just as every territory has regular patients, there are also certain addresses that become regular spots for emergency calls. For Station 2, ours were the homeless shelter, which was conveniently located across the street, and the Lamar Hotel, a multistory, dilapidated hotel that provided grungy rooms for fifteen bucks a night. Ironically, they were located a block from each other. Someone on the downward slide into homelessness could simply gather his few belongings from the Lamar and proceed down the street to the shelter. There, his stained mattress was replaced by a green outline on the concrete, which delineated one’s...

    • MISSING
      MISSING (pp. 117-120)

      One of our firefighters, John, was missing. Not in a fire, lost and disoriented by heat and smoke. Not stranded in a wildfire, cut off from rescue. He had gone fishing. He and his brother, JO, also a firefighter with the city, had taken a small boat out onto Tampa Bay to spend the day on the water.

      Their afternoon had been uneventful, the success of their trip unknown. The details of the day were lost once John went missing. A storm had blown in with such speed they were unable to make it back to shore. As they struggled...

    • THE PATIENT
      THE PATIENT (pp. 121-122)

      Working on patients is always challenging. I have always loved medicine and it was this love that led me to the field of EMS. Some of the calls we run are painful; many of them are tragic. But when one of your own becomes the patient, it can be downright hilarious.

      Mark had felt fine all afternoon. We had spent a quiet afternoon killing time, talking and laughing as we sat around the picnic table out back where we spent many hours bullshitting the time away, looking out onto the pleasant view of the littered vacant lot next door where...

    • THE INTRUDER
      THE INTRUDER (pp. 123-124)

      Someone had been tampering with our equipment. The incidents were irregular, but were occurring with greater frequency. We would find hoses uncoupled, regulators disconnected from air bottles, and other indications that someone had come into the station and handled our equipment. Perhaps it was supposed to be a joke. But running to the front door of a house fire and strapping on your mask only to find that your regulator has been disconnected is never funny. As the incidences mounted, so did our concern.

      So our investigative division decided to mount a surveillance camera in the bay in order to...

    • LEARNING TO DRIVE
      LEARNING TO DRIVE (pp. 125-128)

      The earliest forms of fire engines were not engines at all; they were hand-drawn carts used to transport water to fires. Once the weight of the equipment became too heavy to be drawn by hand, horses were implemented. Early fire trucks relied on hand pumps to force water through the hoses, but were later replaced by coal-burning boilers. Today, we have diesel-powered engines capable of pumping thousands of gallons of water per minute through large-diameter hoses and specialized nozzles.

      After several years on the job, I began the nerve-wracking process of preparing for my first promotional exam: engineer. The engineer’s...

    • DRIVING
      DRIVING (pp. 129-132)

      If you’ve ever thought driving in heavy traffic is stressful, you should try maneuvering a truck that’s as big as a school bus, filled with 500 gallons of water, carrying specialized equipment and a pumped up crew, with sirens screaming and air horns blasting. Aside from the fact that the trucks cost around half a million dollars and the department is counting on your proficiency to avoid plowing into a building or taking out a group of pedestrians, driving a fire truck is one of the most exhilarating experiences on earth.

      I was an engineer for two blissful years before...

    • IN CHARGE
      IN CHARGE (pp. 133-136)

      I was the third female in the history of the department to be promoted to the rank of lieutenant. It wasn’t an easy process. The fire service is a testosterone-driven field where men are men and women are tolerated. When you think of a firefighter, you typically picture a buff, handsome male gallantly hanging from a ladder, single-handedly rescuing a family of five while controlling the inferno that has consumed their home. You typically don’t think of a girl.

      The first documented female firefighter was a slave belonging to a member of the Oceanus Engine Company Number 11 in New...

    • MEALTIME
      MEALTIME (pp. 137-138)

      One of the greatest bonding experiences among firefighters has nothing to do with emergency calls. It’s not the rescue of civilians or the challenge of a fully involved house fire. It’s dinner.

      Most fire stations share at least one daily meal together, typically dinner. Dinner is a vital part of any shift. The planning begins early in the morning, when everyone is still settling in to the day’s routine. At OFD, each station began the shift with a “morning meeting.” During these meetings, the lieutenants advise the crews on the day’s activities, such as building inspections, training, or special details....

    • TRAINING
      TRAINING (pp. 139-142)

      Training is an integral part of the fire service. Major incidents don’t occur with enough regularity to keep skills sharp, so training sessions are vital necessities on any department. These sessions usually bring together several “companies.” A company consists of a crew, whether it is assigned to an engine, a ladder truck, or a rescue truck. OFD standard operating procedures combine companies within rigid guidelines to accomplish tasks during emergency incidents. These combinations vary, depending on the type of incident.

      The primary tasks at any fire scene include the attack of the fire (performed by the engine company), the removal...

    • PRACTICAL JOKES
      PRACTICAL JOKES (pp. 143-146)

      Humor is the life’s blood of the fire service. It brings crews together, it provides a release from stress and anxiety, and it passes the time during long, slow shifts. It’s as if firefighters have a built-in mechanism that allows them to find humor in any situation. It’s a necessity. The harsh reality confronted on the job gets to anyone after a while. Humor acts as a relief valve, letting the pressures of the job escape. It has a cleansing affect and allows each person a reprieve from the daily drama of EMS.

      Firefighters find humor in each other. They...

    • HOME
      HOME (pp. 147-150)

      If you ask any firefighter, he’ll tell you his second home is the fire station. This is not because firefighters eat, sleep, and spend a third of their lives there. It’s because it truly is like home.

      The fire station is unlike any other workplace. It’s not just an office; it’s not a desk or a cozy cubicle. It’s a place you come to know like your house or apartment. Every dark corner, every dusty closet, every damp bathroom within a fire station is a place of familiarity. It becomes a safe haven from the cold of winter, the heat...

  6. Part Three. Command
    • LEARNING
      LEARNING (pp. 153-158)

      By 1998, I was a new lieutenant, I had nine years on the job, and I was restless. But restlessness had plagued me throughout my career. I always blamed my short attention span on my father. Growing up in a military family, moving every few years to a new location with new people, new places, and new cultures made repetition, for me, intolerable. Even in the fast-paced, ever-changing world of firefighting and EMS, the thought of spending twenty-five years doing the same job made me cringe. I combated this restlessness through education.

      I didn’t always enjoy school. High school had...

    • A HOLE IN THE FLOOR
      A HOLE IN THE FLOOR (pp. 159-164)

      I believe everyone in EMS eventually experiences one call that changes them, that alters their perception of the job itself, making them question what they do for a living. Mine came about six months after being promoted to lieutenant. I was still assigned to Engine 1 at the time.

      It was around 4:00 a.m. on a quiet weekday morning. I was awakened by the “hotline,” the phone line that links our Dispatch Center to individual stations. I stumbled through the dark to pick up the flashing line. My engine was being sent to a smoke odor investigation. These calls typically...

    • A NEW DIRECTION
      A NEW DIRECTION (pp. 165-168)

      It was late in the afternoon when the chief of the department pulled up behind Station 1. I had escaped to the back patio area for a bit of quiet and to catch up on some reading. I was engrossed in a book about forensic anthropology when I looked up to see him approach.

      He sat down and asked me how I liked being a lieutenant. I told him I was adjusting to the new rank, getting the hang of the additional paperwork involved. Lieutenants are responsible for maintaining records of all the training hours completed by their crew, as...

    • TRAINING DIVISION
      TRAINING DIVISION (pp. 169-172)

      I entered Training in the spring of 1999. The Training Division was housed in a set of portable buildings located on the grounds of the fire academy. This provided close proximity to the training tower, a multistoried concrete-block building used for simulating fire and rescue scenarios. Also on site was the burn building, a bunker-like structure made from fire-resistant materials, built to withstand the extreme temperatures of training fires. The walls of the burn building were blackened from years of heavy fire, and walking through the structure was like walking through a burned-out cave: dark, damp, and smelling of soot....

    • LEARNING TO LEAD
      LEARNING TO LEAD (pp. 173-178)

      By far the most advantageous aspect of working in administration was access to specialized training. Suddenly I was being sent to the most prestigious training conferences and programs in the country.

      The National Fire Academy (NFA) was created in 1974 in conjunction with the U.S. Fire Administration. In 1971, President Nixon brought together a group of experts to address the growing problem of fire in the United States and to identify means of improving the training of firefighters. The group, known as the National Commission of Fire Prevention and Control, produced the landmark publicationAmerica Burning, which recommended the establishment...

    • A FORK IN THE ROAD
      A FORK IN THE ROAD (pp. 179-182)

      As my first months in Training wore on, I settled into the position, enjoying the additional training and responsibilities. But regardless of these new experiences, one thought kept creeping into my mind: leaving. I still grappled with the restlessness that had followed me throughout my career. Although I had recently finished my master’s degree, I was still craving the rigors and challenges of higher education and couldn’t help fantasizing about giving up the fire department to pursue a different line of work. But I knew it would mean giving up all that I had worked for. So I would peruse...

    • A FINAL STEP
      A FINAL STEP (pp. 183-190)

      The promotional exam for the rank of district chief came around every two years. I was a lieutenant with ten years on the job, I had completed all the necessary coursework in addition to a master’s degree and numerous advanced training courses, and I was obtaining administrative experience. If I was going to stay in the fire service, I was determined to be a chief.

      District chiefs command a “district,” or region within the city limits. There were three districts in Orlando at the time. I had spent the majority of my career in District 1, which covered most of...

    • RETURNING TO SHIFT
      RETURNING TO SHIFT (pp. 191-196)

      My request to return to shift was granted immediately and I returned to my original position on C Shift, District 1. I would be the District 1 “floating lieutenant,” which meant I would be based out of Station 1 but “float” or “travel” within the district wherever a lieutenant was needed.

      Many personnel don’t like the position of floater. You are basically homeless; although you are assigned to a particular station, you may end up working anywhere in the city. Traveling from one station to another is no simple thing for a firefighter. Firefighters can’t simply report to duty in...

  7. Part Four. And It All Came Crashing Down
    • THE CALL
      THE CALL (pp. 199-226)

      Human memory is fallible. Our reactions within stressful situations can warp events as we recall them in our minds. What we remember as indisputable can later be proven false. Numerous court cases have shown that eyewitness testimony can be contradicted through DNA evidence.

      I could recount for you the call that occurred on a morning in mid-August, a call that would set in motion events leading to the end of my career as a firefighter. But it would be limited to my perspective, my experience. So I have laid down this chapter using the official transcripts from radio transmissions. The...

    • CHARGES
      CHARGES (pp. 227-230)

      The days following the incident were filled with innuendo. Many of my coworkers approached me, asking me what had happened on scene. I continued to downplay the incident, not wanting to fuel the rumor mill. But behind the scenes, District 2 was lining up forces against me. I found out a few days later that the off-duty lieutenant who had been on the scene of the incident, the same one that advised Dispatch of “heavy explosives in the building,” was now urging District 2 to charge me with insubordination, since I did not automatically enter the structure on his command....

    • A GATHERING STORM
      A GATHERING STORM (pp. 231-236)

      I was formerly charged within a few days. My division chief, who served as Command on the scene, was as surprised as me. He had assured me things would blow over and that District 2 was merely angry. But things didn’t blow over; they quickly spiraled into a major incident.

      I met with Mark, one of the union representatives, soon after the charges were filed. In spite of the charges, I still believed the incident could be handled quietly and quickly—that I would get time off without pay to set an example for other personnel and to provide District...

    • VERDICT
      VERDICT (pp. 237-244)

      The investigation began and some of those who had been on scene were interviewed. I felt confident that since District 2’s charges stemmed from my lack of putting the backup line into operation, eventually someone would get around to asking why the first crews were sent in without the backup line in the first place. But the question was never raised. In fact, none of the tactics were ever reviewed or questioned.

      It wasn’t until the investigation was completed that I would learn of my coworkers’ lack of support when it came to my actions on scene. Even my engineer,...

    • AFTERMATH
      AFTERMATH (pp. 245-248)

      Mark and I walked back to Station i, saying little on the way. Mark and I had been friends for a long time. I knew he was concerned, but could find few words. I still couldn’t get my mind around the fact that I was no longer a lieutenant. The implications set in quickly. I would have to turn in my white officer’s shirts and return to wearing the blue shirts I had left behind once I made rank. I would have to turn in my red officer’s helmet and return to my battered leather I had used for so...

    • REPORTING FOR DUTY
      REPORTING FOR DUTY (pp. 249-252)

      I’ll never forget walking into Station ii on the first day of my demoted status. Just being back in a blue shirt was embarrassing enough, a blatant reminder of my lack of rank. I put my gear on the truck and started my checkout. I knew the guys at Station 11, having worked there years before as a firefighter. They were a rowdy bunch who loved to play practical jokes and sit around the kitchen telling stories of their hunting adventures. I had always felt out of place there; the fact that I had gone from a district chief candidate...

    • THE APPEAL
      THE APPEAL (pp. 253-256)

      I became more secluded on duty, not wanting to interact with the crews. I received word from administration that my appeal would be heard and a date was set to go before select members of fire administration to plead my case. I was approached by Kathy, the lone female who had broken through to achieve the rank of district chief, who offered to help with my appeal. We spent the next couple of weeks pouring over the radio transmissions, reviewing the layout of the building, and highlighting provisions within the SOPs that require an officer to pass on information critical...

    • TURNING TO THE UNION
      TURNING TO THE UNION (pp. 257-260)

      The International Association of Fire Fighters (IAFF) Local 1365, the collective bargaining unit for OFD, is one of the strongest unions in Florida. Chartered in 1960, it has grown in strength and influence throughout its history and is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to contract negotiations. Well connected politically, the union is primarily responsible for the lucrative contracts and benefits enjoyed by members of OFD. It is also tasked with protecting personnel charged with rules or conduct violations.

      The union has a long history of fighting for members. Even nonmembers are provided protection and backing when...

    • THE MEETING
      THE MEETING (pp. 261-266)

      Union meetings always fell on a Tuesday night. My case was put on the agenda and I waited apprehensively as the date approached. In the meantime, I sent out an email to my friends and those I had worked with in the past, asking for their support. I received few responses. Dan, a friend I had known my entire career, was one of the few who wrote back. His response shocked me. He said that although we had been friends for many years, he felt in his heart he could not support me after hearing how I had behaved on...

    • THE ONLY OPTION
      THE ONLY OPTION (pp. 267-270)

      I left the next morning to fly to Idaho to spend Thanksgiving with my brother. It was a great escape, getting on the plane, knowing I was traveling far from all that had plagued me over the last few weeks. I looked forward to discussing my plans with my brother. I needed to map out the next few weeks and knew he would provide support and encouragement

      We spent several days, huddled inside against the snow and wind of Idaho’s approaching winter, sipping gin and talking. I discussed the case, replaying the events of the last month in all their...

    • FAREWELL
      FAREWELL (pp. 271-275)

      I immediately put my condo on the market and started making arrangements for the move. I went to Tallahassee to find an apartment, staying in a rustic bed and breakfast in the heart of the city’s historic downtown. The rich canopied landscape of the city was a welcomed change and I felt nervous and excited, knowing this would be my new home in a matter of weeks. I arrived in town on a rainy Sunday, the sky gray and heavy above my head. I spent the afternoon searching the classified ads for apartments in the area. I mapped out several...

Michigan State University Press logo