You’re the boss on the ladder company today and have decided to run the troops through their paces. The large extension ladder is raised in front of the firehouse.
You’ve sent the young guy up to practice working off the side and locking in when a woman with a clip board casually strolls up and begins to talk to you.
Even though all your member are in their PPE with helmets in place, she refuses to stand back as she makes notes on a sheet on her clip board.
“I notice your ladder is not secured at the top,” she tells you.
“Well No, Ma’am, it’s not, we’re practicing a situation where that doesn’t happen, that’s why this fellow here is holding the ladder,” you tell her while pointing to your foot man holding the ladder as he always does.
She presents credentials from the local occupational safety department and orders your member off the ladder. She then demands to speak to your supervisor for a violation of safety laws.
In my opinion the most important person on a hoseline is the layout man.
Some departments staff 3 to an engine, meaning there is no layout man unless the Officer goes back down the line to make things right.
Not mine.
We run 4 to an engine and for good reason: You need 4 people to mount an effective primary fire attack.
Driver/Engineer: Operates fire apparatus, engages and monitors pump and water supply. Good so far, we have a way of getting water into the hoses, that’s a plus.
Officer: In command of the team. Calls for type, length of hose and where it is to be deployed.
Nozzleman: Operates the valve at the end of the hose, points it at the fire. Really more complicated then that, I know, but than again, so is…
Layout: Ensure the hose is properly deployed from the apparatus and unkinked entering the building. Follow the attack team around corners, untangling and advancing line as needed. Block open doors and move furniture so that when the line is charged it isn’t trapped under something. Stay back from the firefight to pull line back so the nozzle team can redeploy to another location without standing on a load of spaghetti in the hallway. And, possibly THE most important role of the layout position is to slow additional responding companies if conditions are unsafe ahead of you.
Even though the Officer has a good view of the seat of the fire, and a good officer knows the conditions around them, they can’t see what the layout person sees. From a safe distance, possibly at a corner, ready to pull hose while the nozzle gets the “glory,” the layout can scout conditions in other rooms and maybe even get some ceiling fall on them when the truck cuts a nice hole.
The layout knows all the trouble spots that line may encounter if it needs to move through that area again. The first two folks through had their attentions elsewhere.
The layout is also the one who will be assisting the nozzle team should the conditions warrant an evacuation. From that position you know where the exits are, not just where the line goes out, but also rooms of refuge, should they be needed.
When the fire is out and overhaul continues, the layout man needs to make sure that line is still available to knock down hot spots in the ceiling and walls by looping it into an unburnt room and placing the nozzle, with nozzleman still attached in a position to redeploy if necessary.
We should never leave the engine without a tool of some kind, but as the layout we need full flexibility so a sheathed axe can really get in the way. A pump can can also get in the way but makes an excellent door chock and point of no return doorway device. That little can can keep an advancing fire from getting through a doorway if teams are retreating behind you for at least 2-3 minutes when used properly. So what to bring?
Depends on construction, location of fire and your Department’s SOPs. A cop out answer I know, but the truth.
So next time someone else “grabs” the nozzle, remember that they have it easy, now you’ve got the most important spot on the hose line. If the fire goes out you did your job right.
Now get those kinks out and feed line up to the third floor!
My EMS adventures in Newcastle upon Tyne had come to an end and I had but one full day left in England. Swalwell Station Manager Peter Mudie has arranged for me and Mark to take a bit of a tour of the capabilities of the Tyne and Wear Fire and Rescue Service, so we’re up early and he’s taken us for a road safety class.
Not for me, thank goodness, but for a group of young drivers to impress upon them the importance of not drinking and driving.
Many of us have been to these presentations before. A middle aged expert prepares what to them appears to be a hip multi-media presentation and the attendees seem less than interested. I was the same way at 16, we all were.
Enter the Happy Medic and UKMedic999 and the class is now wondering what just happened.
The presentation was actually one of the best I’ve seen including some racy videos that in the end have a message about driving safely. The kids were really paying attention then. Mark and I had a chance to impress upon the gathered youth the importance of seat belts and driving safely. I think my “accent” kept their attention more than my content.
Even the locals were cold. Mrs HM knit me two hats, so I shared.
Then it was off to the yard behind the station for an extrication drill to show the new drivers what happens when cars collide.
Set up down the hill were two cars and two students were chosen to be the victims.
To say it was “balls cold”, as one student put it, would be an understatement. I’m a 6th generation Californian, 50 is cold for me. This yard was cold. Wind blowing, snow falling and me with no gloves.
The kids watched as their friends shivered in the cold while the fire appliances pulled up and began their task. I mentioned in passing to the instructor that I would have let the kids go back inside and he suddenly had a point to make to the youth suddenly more interested in each other than the hydraulic tools freeing their friends.
“AYE!” He shouted to the huddled, hooded forms, “You’re here wearing your coats and gloves, hats and whatnot, but what if you were heading back from your mate’s place and were wearing only a shirt and crashed?” He was moving around in front of them, almost pacing like a drill sergeant, “Laying in the snow, cold, tired and hurt? You wouldn’t last very long would you?”
He had their attention the rest of the morning.
The extrication was straight forward with the only difference being the use of the smaller ladders to brace the car on it’s side.
After a lunch cooked by the station’s french chef (Yes, the chef is not a firefighter) it was off to Tyne and Wear Fire Headquarters.
What an impressive building and training ground they have!
A grand foyer greets the visitor and many small groups of men are sitting in plain clothes discussing this and that. One of them, the only one wearing a shirt and tie sees my SFFD Firefighter/Paramedic jacket and does a double take.
As I surveyed the enormous complex I would assume candidates are intimidated when they enter to get their employment packets. Peter led Mark and I on a brief tour of the lower level and the man in the tie wandered over and said hello. Just a casual greeting, he seemed like a regular guy in a sea of white embroidered uniforms and street clothes.
Chief Bathgate, Yours Truly, Peter Mudie
The man in the tie wandering the lobby is none other than Iain Bathgate – Chief Fire Officer for Tyne and Wear.
blink. blink.
He offered a hand and I shook it. There I was in my uniform shirt, but buried under a sweatshirt and a jacket. Had I known I was going to meet the Chief I would have at least donned my cap and tie to show respect.
Turns out he was more interested in the back of my jacket than what wasn’t around my neck.
“You do both then?” he asked me.
“Not often at once, but yes, I am proficient in both skills” I replied, wondering if I should go into further explanation. As we spoke the other men were taking interest in the fellow with two titles on his jacket their Chief was talking to. He immediately suggested a tour of the training grounds, something his face glowed about, he was proud of it.
Through the main lobby and out another set of large glass doors was their training facility, easily 5 acres and including a wide variety of props.
There was a standard training tower that, since once at the top one could peer over to the automobile manufacturer test track next door, was rotated and modified to keep wandering eyes away.
Next to that was a high voltage power line tower prop for high angle rope drills. Under construction nearby was a large two story collapse house that can be dropped and rebuilt quickly to simulate rescues.
A number of burn buildings stood ready for recruits and in service crews alike, one of which was in service when we visited.
But the piece of equipment that caught my eye as special was their train rig. Over behind the airplane prop and the piles of wood was a full size train car half in a man made tunnel. I wish we had one.
Half way through my tour, Mr Bathgate dismissed himself and went back to running what appeared to be a well funded and well respected organization.
Mark, Peter and I finished the tour and the Department had a photographer come down and snap a few pictures of us in front of some of the appliances. then a few minutes later she rushed out with a stack of nice photos for me and Mark to remember our visit.
The only comments Mr Bathgate made regarding the wording on my jacket was, “Oh, we’ll not be doing that here” which is something I’m not unused to hearing from the Big Red Machine.
Same System, Different Country.
I’ve got a few more posts worth of observations and anecdotes that I’ll be saving until after the Chronicles of EMS premiere on February 12th.
I often joke with folks outside the Profession that things need to be made “Firefighter Proof.” This denotes the fact that my mother was right, I ended up with a job where they put my name on my shirt. Another variation is that this job is all about shapes and colors. Why else are the drugs in different color boxes, catheters as well, and we color code hydrants based on flow in some places?
But buried in all the jokes about how simple things need to be are some basic shapes and colors that are out in plain sight in the community that help us do our jobs better.
We visited a local cell phone company’s transfer station to train on a new system shutdown procedure. it seems that if there is a fire in the server and transfer room, the system will handle it but there will be a need to shut down sections of the system, not the entire system.
Inside we saw reflective taping on the floor leading us to the breaker panel. The tape said “FIRE DEPT SHUTOFF – THIS WAY —>” and it continued all the way to the panel. At the panel, each switch had a colored reflective tape. Each area served by that breaker was marked on the floor in front of it by the corresponding tape. no more wondering which breaker to hit, just remember the color.
Loved it.
Shapes and colors really does work.
If you’re not really concerned about the switching station in your response area, let’s start with the simple ones found in elevators.
Here is a shot I took at a local shopping mall. Many places I go have these markings and few rescuers know what it means when a Star of Life is in the elevator well. And why does this one have it but the one next to it does not?
Think you know? Do you know? Formulate your answer, then CLICK HERE to find out what makes this elevator so special.
Now that we’re in the elevator, we need to know how to get out at the ground level. In the City, many buildings are on hills so they have more than one exit to street level. In this elevator, which floor is the ground floor? This panel is pretty straight forward, being in a smaller building, CLICK HERE for a neat collection of photos of panels from around the world. Be glad we have a uniform building and elevator code. That star will get you out on the street level of the marked address. If the building is 123 Main street, that star will get you out on Main street.
All right, how about this reflective sticker on the electric meter at the street level?
I was sent this video by a friend on facebook and had to make sure it spreads as far and as wide as we can get it. Maybe you’ve seen it before, maybe it’s been on other blogs or outlets, but this video from almost 80 years ago could be dubbed over modern video and be just as important. It is about 12 minutes long and comes to us thanks to the folks over at flashovertv.com, a site I will spend most of the day wandering through and suggest you do the same. But first, a company film.
Please to enjoy the Los Angeles Fire Department training film “Company Response”
The Chronicles of EMS Reality Series was filming Mark’s visit to the SFFD, in case you haven’t been reading this blog. Or twitter. Or Facebook. OK, I think everyone knew that, but did you know being filmed while doing patient care is tough?
Our pal Mark has had cameras along for the ride before. This was my first time having non co-workers and non-family members in the back of the ambulance with me. Having a preceptor in the back is hard enough, but having these guys back there can really make you sweat. In case you’re thinking it’s no big deal, keep in mind how many little things you do that might not be the exact prescribed method. Little short cuts and tricks that help you do your job better, but might need a little explanation can give the perception that you don’t care.
I hope I don’t come off that way on camera. Having Mark, a fully licensed Paramedic, watching was OK, but directly over Mark’s head was a large mounted camera capturing the entire patient compartment. Next to Mark, near the pass through was Producer/Director and also licensed Paramedic Ted Setla, camera moving to capture my movements as I treated. Then at the edge of the bench seat was Camera Stud (My term, not his) Chris Eldridge moving his camera around as well, making my wonder what they were capturing.
At a motor vehicle versus pedestrian accident, I made my scene survey and made patient contact, Mark close behind. As I got a report from the engine company I took another look at the car involved and there on the other side of it, looking at me, was the Dridge and his camera. Turning a quarter to my right, there was Ted, doing the same. I didn’t want to be that Medic we all hate to see, doing something stupid on camera. “Just do what’s right and nothing goes wrong,” was all I could hear in my head. Could they see me sweating hoping I don’t screw up the IV or make a wrong decision?
It turns out, on that run at least, I appeared calm and collected, even though I was screaming on the inside. Ever had one of those patients that just needs to calm down and relax but won’t stop crying? Mark stepped in, sexy accent (Her description, not mine) and all to calm her and hold her hand while I worked. Strong work, Mate.
No pressure. Just act natural.
It’s easy to say “just be yourself” here in my recliner, but saying that over and over again at the time made me even more self conscious of the cameras and what I was doing. It didn’t change any treatment, everyone got what they needed, but it really made me focus on the little details. Where normally I would leave a sharps down (our caths auto retract for safety but I like to get a sugar off of it later) on the chux until later in the run, I now swiftly secured it.
Times when I would tell patients, and especially clients, that they need to stop smoking, drinking and shooting heroin to get better, I made more of a broad speech about personal responsibility. My usual speech comes off a bit preachy I’m told, so I left it behind.
And it’s not just the emergency calls that makes having the film crew along rough, it’s the down time.
Let me choose a better phrase than downtime, “Interviews.”
After every run and most spare moments we talked on camera about our experiences to that point. If we had nothing to say, we were updating twitter and facebook with photos and thoughts, always trying to keep you guys up to date.
On the ambulance the cameras were pretty easy to get used to, but on the engine it was just the Dridge. He would go running to the engine when the first bells hit, climb in my side and across to the other side of the engine, staying as out of the way as you can with 4 people in a 4 person cab. After the Dridge, Mark would climb in, giving me room to turn out or in case of a medical, just climb in and take my jump seat. Getting dressed for a fire in a moving fire engine is a learned skill. Doing it with a camera rolling isn’t much different, but with all seats full and gear all over, it took a few runs to get the hang of it.
I hope the footage they got gives you the story of what we went through. There wasn’t a lot of helicopter action, no MCIs, and nobody fell in love. As far as I know. So it’s not the usual EMS show that has been thrown at us before we could duck. I’m excited to see how the Chronicles team puts it together and shows it to you. Although you already know what is going to happen, since you’ve been following along the whole time.
More updates on the Project and Chronicles of EMS to come, including my thoughts about the NEAS Administration, giant patient compartments with extra space and something I like to call a bad ass training facility.
This was the situation I gave you on friday, standing at the top of the stairs, no smoke, no fire, only an odor of burning paper.
We had all our PPE, including air of course, and multiple companies arriving behind us, so we took our pump can and went in search of the odor. Back under the stairs in what likely passed for a store room 100 years ago, we found a small section of charred drywall at the floor level. Opening up the wall led us to a large section of brick which likely went all the way up the inside of the building, but all the drywall was clear. Oddly enough the other side of the brick wall had a large amount of trapped smoke so the Truck went to work opening it up.
In the end the conditions were such that having a charged line before going down there would have gotten us knotted up for sure. Turns out the source of the smoke may have been above us, at the street level in an alley where a man was seen smoking prior to our arrival.
If you said have a look, but be safe, you made the right call.
One of the things that drives me nuts is the public constantly thinking I’m a police officer. While Motor Cop likely giggles at that idea, I commonly respond to these people by pointing to the fire engine and then at my hip. “No gun, fire engine.”
One thing I noticed both here and in the UK with Mr Glencorse was the unmistakable uniforms he and his fellow ambulance employees wear.
The green jumpsuit. They also have green pants and polo shirts, vests, fleece jackets and the high vis jackets, but everything revolves around that green color. It made it easy to figure out who was who at an accident scene for one thing.
We wear a navy pant, navy shirt and navy jackets and sweaters/sweatshirts, just like the police do. More than once in England, wearing my SFFD uniform, I was spoken to as if I was law enforcement. One woman, when I asked if she was OK after a minor accident, began to go into detail about where she was coming from and how fast she was going.
Mark would love it if I came out asking for the green jumpsuits over here, not going to happen. When Mark took me around to meet the nursing staffs at local hospitals in the UK, they all commented about my uniform and badge. Mark groaned and laughed, but kept introducing me. They just aren’t used to Paramedics that look like police officers, or firefighters for that matter.
But I am pretty sure Mark has never been mistaken for anything else other than what he is. Most of the garments are labeled simply “Ambulance.” I have always appreciated the professionalism that my current uniform reminds me of, especially as many departments are now wearing t-shirts and shorts and wondering why no one takes them seriously.
I also appreciate that my department still honors the cap and tie and the traditions they represent. When we are sent out of our regular stations to another house for the day, it is tradition to wear your cap and tie and make proper introductions first thing in the morning. Even though it is met with smiles and everyone saying, “Take that stuff off,” not wearing it gets you noticed even faster. It is a sign of respect to the regular members of the house and is a little bit of the past I like to have around.
That would be odd in a jump suit or polo shirt.
But Mark doesn’t have the same responsibilities I do in the fire house and a jumpsuit would actually make the transition from EMS to Fire quicker and safer. Imagine just zipping out of a jumpsuit and into your turnouts instead of unbuttoning a shirt, then pants. I doubt there is a happy medium there.
But what about colors? We wear different colored helmets and helmet shields, maybe different patches, why not a completely different uniform?
Because we’ve always worn these and they work just fine, we just need to figure out a way to convince the public that not everyone in navy blue outside a coffee shop is a police officer.
You are dispatched with your Department’s first alarm compliment to a report of smoke in a restaurant. You are unfamiliar with the layout, since this is not your usual assignment and the building is in the oldest part of town.
On arrival you have nothing showing from the 4 story, mostly brick building, folks still seated at their tables as you arrive. A quick inspection finds a labyrinth of hallways and stairwells behind the kitchen and a clear odor of burning paper. No smoke is seen from the top of the stairs leading down to the storage area, which appears to have been retro-fitted into another kitchen area.
You have no charged line, only a pump can, but all your PPE.
Do you inspect the basement without a line or wait? You make the call.
This month’s handover draws from our friends across the interwebs stories of close calls. Times when they or their patients, colleagues or family almost didn’t make it. I was inspired to make this the theme not just because of the holiday weekend here in America, but to remind us all that we are fragile and put ourselves out there sometimes. Hopefully one of these links rings back when you’re in an unsafe or curious situation.
“I was overwhelmed by the dreadful realization that I had just accepted a ride from a highly intoxicated snowmobile rider and we were hurtling through the dark northwoods at 70+ miles per hour.”
from Greg Friese of, among many, Every Day EMS Tips.
“This was a serious incident. This was no routine, boy, we almost had an accident. This was my death.
I don’t know if my partner would have stopped on his own if I hadn’t shouted. Maybe. Maybe he had it all under control and was already getting ready to hit the brakes.”
from Peter Canning, a new contributor to the FireEMSBlogs family, at StreetWatch:Notes of a Paramedic
“Jill and I found him lying on the floor, fully clothed and in a coat, eyes shut, but eyelids flickering. An almost certain sign of pseudo-unconsciousness. A fake. I took a step back and called out to him. Jill was still standing by the front door, uncertain how to proceed. Something still felt wrong, so I asked her to go and call for police back up. With hindsight, I should have gone with.”
“This moment, this intense moment, was where I made a decision the likes of which I hope I never have to make again. I knew that if I stayed more than a few moments longer, I would suffocate and burn to death right there on that floor.”
from our pal Chris Kaiser at Life Under the Lights
“Dear God, they’re working a search pattern. Please, not tonight. It’s not mutual aid to another fire department; they’re working a grid search with the police. I grab my boots, then pad to the garage to check the fluids in the IV warmer. Anyone caught in this weather without shelter will be near death, if not there already.”
“I give my partner the “time to leave pronto” hand gesture. “Code 3, hurry up”. I give a little oxygen and attempt the IV enroute with no success. I realize that something is not going well for this patient and I don’t have the means to diagnose or fix the problem.”
“The smoke level now was to the floor as I grasped the hose line to find my way out. The urge to rip off my mask was strong but my training had taught me this would be fatal for sure.”
“A back board was brought up and one of the other Paramedics on the engine teams attended to him pulling off his jacket. Justin asked us if the building was still on fire. We we told him that yes, it was still on fire, he asked us to put his jacket back on. Not completely out of it.”
from yours truly and the event that launched me into the blogosphere.
Next month’s handover will be hosted by Ambulance Driver, theme TBD, watch his space for details as they develop and, above all else, be safe.
This month’s EMS Blog Carnival, the Handover, will be hosted here and the theme is “Close Calls.” With November in the US including Thanksgiving, I thought what better time to share an experience when we had that thought go through our mind “I/they might not make it.”
Send in your submissions about a time when you, a patient, or someone you know had a close call and I’ll put them together to share. If just one person can use that information to make their job safer, then we’ll have succeeded.
So with that theme in mind, here is the Angry Captain’s Close Call.
8:30 pm February 1982
The call: Structure fire, “house across the street has black smoke coming from it.”
It is a cold winter night with temperatures well below freezing; we are in a relief unit that had no inboard seats so I was belted in on the tailboard. On arrival, we found a residence with black smoke pouring from the rear. Reportedly, no one was home.
The home is typical for the area in that the base of the home started as a house trailer with several additions around it. As the first engine to arrive, we pulled a 200’ preconnect and forced entry on a side door that appeared to be the entry. The captain and I crawled in below the smoke and worked our way through a maze of doorways to what appeared to be a fully involved kitchen area. The ceiling was flashing over as I trained the nozzle at the base of the fire. Suddenly, my air pack warning bell went off.
We could not have been on air much longer than 5-10 minutes. I patted the captain on the back to notify him that we needed to back out. He gestured for me to head out and took the nozzle from me. My training from my previous department was never to leave anyone alone in a fire. As I turned, my air pack quit entirely; no air at all. The smoke level now was to the floor as I grasped the hose line to find my way out. The urge to rip off my mask was strong but my training had taught me this would be fatal for sure. Holding my breath was all I could do as I struggled to focus on following the line out amid my disorientation from lack of oxygen. As I moved along, I remember hearing a loud mechanical sound further confusing my strange journey through this black maze. The sound grew louder as I slowly followed the hose line hand over hand in the seemingly longest moments of my life.
Suddenly light appeared as the noise grew to a roar, but I crawled out, finally ripping off my face mask, gasping for air, and collapsing in a snow bank. My next memory was lying on the gurney in the back of the ambulance. At the hospital, they ran blood gas tests and flooded me with plenty of O2. As my color returned to normal (apparently I was quite gray), I was told that they found me outside our entry point where the truck had hung a mechanical fan at the top of the doorway for ventilation. (The loud disorientating mechanical sound.) I am not sure how long it was that I lay there in the snow bank before I was noticed. But Mrs. AC got the frightening call about 11 pm to pick me up at the hospital….no one likes that call.
Lessons learned:
1. The air pack I was wearing was found to be working properly back in a warm station house and in fact still had about ½ its air. The speculation at the time was that the moisture in the diaphragm froze causing it to stop the air flow. Had it been checked at the scene, it could have provided the exact problem.
2. Never allow a member to leave alone or leave a member alone in a fire. This was long before 2 in 2 out.
3. Always follow your training; i.e. following the hose line out and keeping your mask on in heavy smoke.
4. Do not block the egress of the hose line with ventilation. Had I been on all fours coming out feeling ahead with my hands, my fingers may have been lost to the whirling fan.
This was a true wake up call for me and cemented in my mind how important my training had been and how things can go wrong in a matter of seconds.
There is always talk around the dinner table at the firehouse that the house was clearly not designed by anyone who had ever even seen a firehouse before.
“The locker room is too small!”
“This kitchen sucks”
“Can’t we have a toilet on the ground floor?”
The usual complaints.
So this Sunday we’re heading out of HMHQ and over to the architect’s office with a copy of Gerry Souder’s book and the following demands.
#1 – Humidor Cabinet The guys are having an occasional cigar, but why have the engine parked infront of the smoke shop every weekend? With this cabinet, each member can purchase and store quality cigars to enjoy 50 feet from the closest door, per policy. If your organization prohibits the use of tobacco products while on duty, install this in the basement. Cigars.com has a lovely selection.
#2 – Commercial Dishwasher At a busy triple company house, feeding and cleaning up after 14 people can be a chore. But if you use a commercial strength dishwasher, you can wash an entire load of dishes in 90 seconds. That is not a typo. 90 seconds. I work at a big house that has one of these and it is awesome. Pile in the silverware, press on, wait a minute and a half and POW, clean forks.
It takes a few more cycles since there is only one tray, but the water heats up to 170 degrees and cleans those things like no one’s business. The folks at ArchiExpo can tell you more.
#3 – 3 Burner Bunn-o-Matic Coffee Maker Forget those fancy fru-fru drinks for $3 a pop at the local coffee shop. Save those for heading home. That’s your reward for staying safe and going home again. Until then, we need 3 piping hot supplies of delicious coffee. Some may tell you the 4 burner is the way to go, maybe if you’re having a lot of meetings at your house, but if you’re all career, 3 should do fine. And while you’re at it, stop buying the crappy coffee at the warehouse store and spend the extra $2 a pound for some quality coffee from a local vendor. Chances are he’ll be glad to brag that you buy his coffee to drink in your house. No gifts, buy the coffee.
#4 – Wireless Do I even need to include this in our dream house? What house these days doesn’t have wireless yet? Get a private phone line installed and collect the $5 a month from the members and get a network set up. You’ll likely want two routers, one on each side or end of the house so that the computer up front gets as strong of a signal as the dorms. We’ll also need a communal computer for research and checking for updates on firegeezer. That brings up another thing, networking the network. That fancy TV you spent all the money on last year you currently use to watch Dancing With the Stars has a video input on the back. Run a cable from the computer to the TV and watch training videos, fireground close calls, and post important information. We recently had a boss do this to the giant TV to give a ventilation drill. he fired up the video on the communal computer and everyone actually wanted to try it and was involved. We watched, we learned, then we went and did it. And add in the free printer, make it wireless so all the laptop guys can use it too.
#5 Truck Turntable Too many folks are getting hurt and some have even died while the apparatus is backing up. Why? Why are we even “spotting” these things, only putting ourselves in danger to protect someone’s investment. Let’s install a truck turntable. Pull in, press the button and just like Batman did, we’re turned around and ready for the next attack from the Riddler. I can hear some of you groaning about how elaborate, expensive, problem prone this might be but it can never fail. It simply becomes a floor if it stops rotating. Not sure how the tillers will do with this, we’ll look into something. And for those of you singing the praises of drive through bays…I don’t want to hear your bragging anymore.
In this scenario I was actually the eager young fellow out in front of the station reading the smoke in the early morning hours. I was beside myself when the boss looked over to me and told me we were out of service and there are other companies to cover it. But, the red stuff, it’s…red and burning and hot and stuff. Huff.
My jaw was on the floor. I wanted to throw the radios back in our coats and head over there. I don’t need my ALS kits at a working fire, that’s what ambulances are for.
If you said hang back, you made his call.
However,
If I was in the seat that morning we’d be right back in service on the air and responding if we were due. I think most of us work in a place where if you can see the smoke, chances are you’re due.
If you said get off your butt, there’s a fire, you made my call.
A quick note on our You Make the Call series. There are often comments about not knowing my situation or my SOPs, etc, etc. The point of these situations is to get us thinking about what WE would do in our own districts with our own SOPs, staffing, equipment, etc. Don’t wonder what I did, tell me what YOU would do. Hence the “YOU” Make the Call.
“So that’s why your neck didn’t snap.” the Trauma Doctor told me as he set my helmet back down on the table and left the trauma room. I had confirmation of this statement from the nurse standing closer to the Doc since the ear closest to him was still screaming in pain.
Let’s go back a few hours.
It is just after 6 in the morning on December 17th, a cold morning for the City, but shorts weather for you in the North East. Ia m assigned to the Division Chief’s house which also staffs a Truck company and my engine. I had taken the night watch, as is tradition for the guy just in for the day, and was just awaking to make the coffee when the first report came in.
A full box alarm had been struck for reports of heavy fire from a window, by a passerby. 99 times out of 100 this is a false alarm, steam or something else non threatening. This was the 1 in 100.
The chief and his operator (Incident Support Specialist) are awakened and away, the rest of the house is not due. I check the card file used for decades to anticipate alarm assignments and see the Truck is due on the second alarm so I make an announcement to let the Truck folks know they may be going out if this is the real thing.
First units report heavy fog in the area, then the statement that gets the blood pumping:
“Control we have a working fire.”
A second alarm is struck in the first 10 minutes and the truck is away, smiling, while us engine folk remain back. In the City, the street fire alarm pull boxes are still functioning and account for a great deal of false alarms. In the event someone pulls the hook near a working incident a single engine responds to investigate. In our case, however, it was someone calling in heavy smoke 4 blocks from the fire that got us up and out the doors.
When we got near the reported address, the smoke was so thick, mixed with the December fog, that the busses had stopped moving and most traffic had given up trying to see the lights and simply stopped. Our driver weaved around and it was clear the report of smoke was associated to the fire up the block. What we noticed as we arrived was that not all the units from the second alarm had arrived yet, possibly due to the unusually heavy traffic.
Out front of the 3 story type 5 theater type building are two 20 foot tall 5 foot wide windows blowing fire 40 feet into the sky and lighting up almost the entire block. We check in and are assigned to the fire floor to assist companies already advancing lines.
Packed up and tools in hand, we make our way past the multiple wyed lines in the stairwell landing and to the fire floor. The smoke is thick and the visibility is about 5 feet. I can see blurs of yellow reflective in all directions and a diffuse orange glow from all around. I learned later this was the fire in the balcony seating.
After pulling a lot of paneling and knocking down the fire that was blowing out the windows, the first teams were back out for a bottle change while we directed lines out the windows to ventilate the large open area. We were then instructed to train the streams up and into the balconys since climbing up there was no longer safe.
Keep in mind the location of the fellow in the red pants.
The other firefighter assigned to the engine that day tapped me on the shoulder and asked if she could have some nozzle time. I realized I had been a bit of a nozzle hog, the kind we all hate, so I apologized and gave her the pipe. When I stepped back 6-8 feet and picked up the hose, I suddenly noticed my chinstrap was hovering in front of my eyes. I thought it curious since last I saw the strap it was secured beneath my chin and, for the moment, was hovering in space.
“Are you OK?” “Hey! Is he OK?” I hear people beginning to shout.
“Are you OK, stand up!”
“I am standing. Just give me a minute.” I replied, not realizing my colleagues had just seen a section of ceiling, not roof, but ceiling fall 30 feet and knock me down.
Before I knew what was happening I was being pulled out of the building hearing shouts of “MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!”
This part of my Close Call was recounted to me by some of the firefighters who pulled me out, since I have very little recollection of it.
We moved Justin to the hallway and into the stairway landing where the air was clean. He was grasping his right ear and his eyes were shut. His helmet and gear was covered in debris, as well as the gloves now holding the side of his face. He asked repeatedly what had happened, a clear sign of possible head injury so the decision was made to take full precautions from that point forward.
A back board was brought up and one of the other Paramedics on the engine teams attended to him pulling off his jacket.
Justin asked us if the building was still on fire. We we told him that yes, it was still on fire, he asked us to put his jacket back on. Not completely out of it.
Packaged and carried down the stairs to the ambulance, he was feeling dizzy and about to be sick.
I regained my wits looking up from the cot, hearing the sirens and feeling a 16g needle in my Left AC. I was emotional for sure, suddenly aware of the loud ringing in my right ear. When the Paramedic leaned over me I looked into the diaphoretic face of one of the medics I had precepted when he was hired.
“I’m not supposed to be here” I told him.
“I know.” He told me.
“Don’t call my wife.” I asked wondering if I even had my phone on me.
“I won’t” was his reply.
“Can I do my own radio report?” He told me no.
In the ER, my C-spine was cleared and the assembled team slowly made their way out of the room as the injuries I might have sustained were eliminated. One of the Docs grabbed my filthy helmet, gave it a turn in his hands and said,
“So that’s why your neck didn’t snap.”
The ratchet device so common on most helmets secures it to your occiput, theoretically holding it tight in case of impact. However, in this case, the ceiling fell at an angle, they believe, causing the load to hit one side first, causing it to tilt sideways. As it did, the helmet did it’s job, absorbing the force of the impact and directing it sideways, by turning slightly on my head. The inner rim was forced onto my right ear, causing all the pain and tennitus, which would continue for weeks. Had the ratchet strap been tight, the helmet would not have turned on my head, but the force would have turned on the next axis down, my cervical spine.
When I asked him to put that explanation in writing, he let out a small laugh and left the room. Darn it. Had I been hit in any other direction there was a fair chance the helmet would be dislodged, but my chin strap would keep it in place.
In the end, after spending Christmas with the inlaws and on head injury medication, which doesn’t allow caffeine or alcohol, I learned to trust your equipment and treat it properly. So as a way to deal with what happened, they suggested I start a journal. I started a blog.
Last week we had a bit about Saint Florian, Catholic Saint of Fire Fighters. This week a look into the history of another overused and often misunderstood symbol, the Maltese Cross.
Most firefighters, if they even know what the cross might symbolize, tell a tale of crusading knights in ancient times putting down their weapons to fight fires. Oddly, only firefighters seem to tell this tale, while the historical community tells a different, much wider story about the symbol and those who wore it on their tunics, shields and later stamped it on their coins.
First a bit about the cross itself. The cross is eight-pointed and has the form of four “V”-shaped arms joined together at their tips, so that each arm has two points.This was originally the cross of Amalfi, a province in Italy, but was adopted by the Island of Malta’s future rulers in the 11th Century. It is said that the points of the star represent:
Loyalty
Bravery
Generosity
Piety
Contempt of death
Glory and honor
Helpfulness towards the poor and the sick
Respect for the church
This original cross was worn by a group of crusading knights called the Knights Hospitaller and was so named from a hospital built in Jerusalem around 1080 to care for those traveling to the Holy Land. This hospital was built on the site of the monastery of Saint John the Baptist which is why the Knights Hospitaller were also known as the Knights of Saint John.
In 1129 they were charged to not only care for the wounded but to also provide armed escort to crusaders and pilgrims. To bolster their numbers they were paired with the newly endorsed Knights Templar, some of the best fighters the western world had seen.
As these groups attacked the Saracens, or followers of the Muslim faith, they encountered many new weapons, most notably a pitch oil later called naphtha. This was catapulted into the ranks or stronghold, then lit from afar by arrow or flaming bale of straw. The fire would be fast and intense. The Knights of Saint John, charged by the Pope to protect and care for pilgrims, treated the victims of these attacks as well as other injuries at their field hospitals.
It was written later, by other orders, that while the Knights Templar were fearless in the face of attack, the Knights of Saint John were fearless in the face of the flames.
This may be where modern firefighters saw a history to build on. A group of dedicated men who helped others and were fearless in the face of fire. Sounds perfect to me.
The modern cross, most often a four sided cross with rounded sides, resembles a Teutonic Cross rather than a Maltese Cross.
Perhaps geography is to blame.
The Knights Hospitaller did not come from Malta, they were given the island by Charles the 5th of Spain, also the King of Sicily, after seven years of moving around Europe. It was here they transformed what they originally called a bare rock of sand into a thriving Mediterranean port which would repel a Turkish attack in the 1500s.
And of course some of the first structures built were hospitals.
So where did the 8 point cross of Saint John become the modern Maltese cross available for free embroidery on suitcases? Probably the same way Santa Claus became part of Christmas.(No I’m not saying Coca Cola made the cross) We could figure it out but would that ruin it? Perhaps.
But looking back at what those eight points of the cross stood for, I think it is still there in our modern cross, just a little softer and more subtle.
But I imagine if a Knight Templar and a Knight of Saint John were transported into modern day America, they would see a Maltese Cross on a firehouse and know they would be welcomed, cared for and amongst family.
The alarm machine called us, so this isn’t a funny call story, but a notice to other firefighters to think about WHY alarms go off.
And to let you know that one person actually evacuated when the alarm went off a the 10 story apartment building. A clear sign people are learning what that loud buzzing means.
THE EMERGENCY
Automatic alarm activation in 10 story multi-residential type 1. Alarm panel indicates single smoke detector on the third floor.
THE ACTION
We’re the first engine in and up to the third floor we go. There is only one person standing out in the cold, wrapped in a blanket, asking if she can go back in yet. Clearly she’s from out of town, likely a new student at the nearby college.
Roaming the hallways we see no signs of smoke or fire, only the flashing strobes and blaring buzzer. We can barely communicate it is so loud.
Looking from detector to detector for the indicator light showing it is the one tripped, we see nothing. The ladder company finally silences the alarm but the system will not reset.
Assuming the alarm is confused, we search the floor above and below finding nothing. There has been some wall refinishing in one area of the third floor, but the areas smell of paint instead of dust.
Downstairs, the alarm will not reset and the Chief wants us back up to take another look around just to be sure. No one will answer their door, but all the doors on the floor are cool to touch and have no odor coming from them.
I decided to slowly walk looking for anything out of the ordinary, not just signs of fire.
It was on this walk I noticed a faint over spray near one of the detectors. Looking closer and reaching up I felt the reason…wet paint. Someone spray painted only the sensor part of the detector, including the light that indicates it is faulty. We called up the building engineer who said he’d get to it whenever.
After picking our jaws back up off the floor we explained that the giant building’s alarm system was not working and he doesn’t want to wait on this repair, but get to it immediately.
On the ride down (elevator down of course) we could only think of 2 reasons to spray paint a smoke detector:
You like to smoke in the hallway.
You plan on burning the building down and are testing response times.
We’re hoping for the former.
Although when it really is a fire, more folks might leave the building when the alarm sounds.
The following tale is told not because we are reminded to always leave the engine with a tool; Not because we were the only ones to bring water to the fire; Not because you need to be careful when extinguishing burning wax, but because of how determined the owner was to “let us in.”
THE EMERGENCY
A caller states, “Smoke alarm downstairs is beeping and the unit feels like smoke.” Not smells, but “feels.”
THE ACTION
We are second due in the first alarm compliment. It is early evening on a calm winter night, no wind. First engine reports smoke showing from a garage, no fire noted. We kick it up a gear. Our assignment as second in is to supply the first in engine so we pull past them and to the hydrant, it’s a short pull.
The first in engine is at the garage door, peering in, we see no smoke. I grab my airpack, buckle the hip belt (like so many forget) and BAM! axe holster. Noting a heavy fuel load and no pre-connected line stretched yet, I reach for the pump can and away we go. Since our job is to back up the first line, and there is no first line, we’re searching for the seat of the fire.
In this shotgun style house, the garage and attached area reaches back maybe 60 feet, on average, and can be dotted with small closets and in most cases small illegal apartments. As we pass the halfway point the smoke has forced us to our knees and we have yet to find the fire. Smoke is mostly light, grey, but no heat.
We have good communications, no one is panicing, a plan has been made and is clear. As I’m reaching past some debris to see how deep the closet is I feel a touch on my shoulder from behind.
It’s a civilian. “I need to get to my unit and let you in” he mumbles as he begins to push past me into the closet. This guy is clearly altered and where on earth did he come from? He’s got keys in his leading hand and before I can react he suddenly disappears into the closet, gone. My officer and I decide to give chase in the most unusual search and rescue I’ve been involved in in some time. Turns out what we thought was a closet was simply a jog in the hallway with heavy painter’s canvas leaning in all directions. As I pass through, axe and pump can in tow, I see the occupant near another door near what must now be the back of the garage. Smoke is thicker and warmer here.
The man is trying to unlock the door when the officer reaches him first and pushes him forcefully out the back door, immediately ventilating the small, cramped hallway.
It also introduced fresh air to the fire area because the heat intensified behind the slightly open basement apartment door.
We found the fire.
The team now behind me started calling back for a line to be charged.
“We got it! Hand in a nozzle! We need a line in here.”
My officer sticks his head in from outside and screams, “Did no one think to bring water to the fire?”
“I got this Cap’n” already footing the door open and peaking in I see what used to be a candle on what is still mostly a dresser, all standing beneath what might have been a curtain.
Not 30 seconds of quick bursts and the fire was out. Well before the line made it in.
When I hit the dresser the first time, I knew the wax would scatter, but I had no idea how neat it would look. It was similar to throwing water on a grease fire, only the wax cooled as it flew.
I tried to help overhaul but the man in the back yard needed my particular attentions at that time.
Turns out he ws fine, mentally sound, simply wanted to make sure we opened the door instead of breaking down the door. Not sure why, exactly, since the landlord now will have to explain why this guy was paying rent on a tiny little illegal bedroom in the back of a garage.
At the end of it all I didn’t have a single drop of candle wax or water on my gear. The folks cleaning up were covered in it as it was still dripping from everywhere I had spread it.
Before you all start commenting about “You weren’t on air?” and “No charged line?” We were on our knees to maintain clear visibility due to all the junk in this garage. On a similar note, dragging a charged attack line around a crowded area can prove dangerous. There should have been someone assigned to bring it in, and there may have been, but I never heard if there was.
I mention this incident here because it was hilarious to hear the Captain the next night tell the story of a man just wandering into a closet and disappearing, “And me and my medic say, let’s see where it goes! Sure as hell it goes to the fire!”
You’re the boss on the ladder company today and have decided to run the troops through their paces. The large extension ladder is raised in front of the firehouse.
In my opinion the most important person on a hoseline is the layout man.
My EMS adventures in Newcastle upon Tyne had come to an end and I had but one full day left in England. Swalwell Station Manager Peter Mudie has arranged for me and Mark to take a bit of a tour of the capabilities of the 
There was a standard training tower that, since once at the top one could peer over to the automobile manufacturer test track next door, was rotated and modified to keep wandering eyes away.
Here is a shot I took at a local shopping mall. Many places I go have these markings and few rescuers know what it means when a Star of Life is in the elevator well. And why does this one have it but the one next to it does not?
What about the house next door with this sticker?
The Chronicles of EMS Reality Series was filming Mark’s visit to the SFFD, in case you haven’t been reading this blog. Or twitter. Or Facebook. OK, I think everyone knew that, but did you know being filmed while doing patient care is tough?
One of the things that drives me nuts is the public constantly thinking I’m a police officer. While Motor Cop likely giggles at that idea, I commonly respond to these people by pointing to the fire engine and then at my hip. “No gun, fire engine.”
This month’s handover draws from our friends across the interwebs stories of close calls. Times when they or their patients, colleagues or family almost didn’t make it. I was inspired to make this the theme not just because of the holiday weekend here in America, but to remind us all that we are fragile and put ourselves out there sometimes. Hopefully one of these links rings back when you’re in an unsafe or curious situation.
This month’s EMS Blog Carnival, the Handover, will be hosted here and the theme is “Close Calls.” With November in the US including Thanksgiving, I thought what better time to share an experience when we had that thought go through our mind “I/they might not make it.”
Last week we had a bit about Saint Florian, Catholic Saint of Fire Fighters. This week a look into the history of another overused and often misunderstood symbol, the Maltese Cross.
The alarm machine called us, so this isn’t a funny call story, but a notice to other firefighters to think about WHY alarms go off.
