I received the following note from a firefighter who was concerned about an advertisement’s artistic depiction of firefighters who were dirty from firefighting:
Dear Chief Halton,
I recently received a brochure outlining the upcoming FDIC conference. On page 13 is an ad. I thought the ad was inappropriate. Several national organizations including the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation, many departments including the San Antonio Fire Department, the IAFF, and the IAFC are all stressing cancer awareness and prevention. One of the basics of firefighter cancer prevention is keeping your PPE, helmet, and other gear clean. What kind of message does the advertisement send when it states “we are committed to safety” but shows a firefighter covered in carcinogens?
The writer is a passionate and credible firefighter. It is clear he has knowledge and understanding of firefighter cancer issues. I respect his insight, passion, and effort. I hope his dedication to this issue remains strong, and I mean him no disrespect as I do not know his knowledge of and experience with cancer, as they may far exceed mine. We all have opinions, and mine is based on my experience with and education on cancer issues, albeit mine alone and clearly not a result of exhaustive clinical research, but just common reading and personal stories of friends, family, and fellow firefighters who have battled cancer-some successful, some not, and some continuing the fight.
That being said, I strongly disagree with my friend’s objection to the artwork involved in the ad. To begin with, it is an artist’s depiction of firefighters’ grit and passion. You can see it in their faces; you can sense their demeanor. The ad is powerful. The men and women depicted are real firefighters, and their character is apparent in the artistry of the photos. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and the eyes of these men and women are captivating and inspiring. They are looks that no models can project. These firefighters earned that look; they own that look. The message they portray is clear: focus and dedication. You can imagine that they are walking toward the showers after a particularly strenuous firefight and overhaul. And I heartily agree that cleaning our gear and keeping ourselves clean are important ways to reduce our exposure.
I have heard the argument that we should police every photo for safety violations. I think censorship is wrong. The reality is that fireground operations are never perfect. While working at fires, we get dirty. That is a reality. Firefighting is a difficult, dangerous, and dirty job. That, as you know, is an undisputable fact. Should we wash up as quickly as possible? Absolutely. Do we get dirty? Absolutely. We can have opinions, but we can’t deny reality. The respectful artistic depiction of that reality does not convey to today’s highly educated and aware firefighters a call to carelessness or project a vision of indifference to danger. I contend it does just the opposite.
Consider this: After Challenger exploded, NASA exhaustively researched all of the details of that event. Then, Columbia disintegrated on reentry. Such accidents are inherent to working in that environment. There are risks. NASA probably now knows everything there is to know about these two accidents; unfortunately, that will not stop a third mishap with the new system we are developing to carry humans into space. But the courage and valor of astronauts were understood and admired by all involved and continue to this day and probably will continue forever.
This admiration was expressed eloquently after the Columbia tragedy. A Lockheed employee, Dan Canin, wrote the following e-mail: “Every precaution and material science known to man has been applied to the problem of making the thermal protection system work. It is a known risk. The tiles are soft, and every astronaut knows that if the wrong ones are damaged, the shuttle burns up. But the odds against it are pretty good, especially when compared with the rewards of being an astronaut. So, they are willing to take the chance. In fact, they fight for it-as a lot of us would. But getting the public to buy this is a lot tougher, especially a public that expects every risk in their lives to be [mitigated] to zero. It will be interesting to see if NASA tries to take on this challenge, explaining to the public that doing bold things is not about an engineering risk to zero. [Stuff] happens, and if we just want to restrict ourselves to things where [stuff] can’t happen, we’re not going to do anything very interesting.”
As firefighters, we undertake the obligation of becoming highly skilled in the complex and dangerous enterprise of firefighting. We accept that this undertaking has inherent risks. Although we should do everything we can to mitigate them, there are risks nonetheless-risks of thermal dynamics, structural failure, inattentive drivers, toxic by-products of combustion, evil intentions, terror, Mother Nature, and the fragility of our system to the carcinogenic products that are ever present in our everyday work.
And making this acceptance is a moral and intellectual problem of no small dimension for men and women who have little real-world experience in the fire service. Those people would picture us as naive and easily impressionable, but nothing is further from the truth. But for us firefighters, it is a moral acceptance of risk. We understand the risks, we do all we can to avoid exposures, but it happens; and when artists capture our courage, I am honored-not offended. I think men and women like you are more sophisticated than that, more discerning than that, and certainly capable of recognizing an artist’s depiction and the dangers of toxic exposures.
