By Michael Morse
Every firefighter fondly remembers the things they collect as their careers progress. Most of us have the “Firefighter’s Prayer” framed and beautiful, hanging on a wall or, if not there, then put aside for now until more space opens up. There are figurines, quilts, plaques, helmets, Dalmatians by the dozen, and fire hydrant beer mugs by the score.
People in our lives love to give us fire department-related things, and we love to get them. We have drawers full of T-shirts boldly exclaiming that “Firefighters are Hot!” or “We fight what others fear!” Those slogans more often than not find themselves at the bottom of the drawer as our career moves on, and the pictures and plaques, statues and memorabilia grow dusty and end up in a box somewhere, but there are always the things that stay on display.
A lot of firefighters have what we call a “me” wall. At the start of our careers it’s small, only a few things prominently displayed where everybody can see them. As the years move on and the ego shrinks, the things on the wall add up and eventually have to be downsized. There may be commendations, promotional certificates, degrees and things, maybe even some medals. But the things are just objects; what we carry in our hearts is what matters. The wall itself may end up in a basement or garage or even as a memory of the wall that was that is now boxed up and stored away. It is the natural progression of things, I think. When we are young and fresh, we truly believe that our profession makes us great, and by simply being part of the tradition created by those who served before us we belong and deserve to be part of it. As we age and season, it becomes clear that it takes a heck of a lot more than pictures on a wall or fancy slogans on our backs to be part of that tradition. It takes work, plain and simple.
I am proud to have done the work.
I have a picture sitting on a shelf next to my helmet badges of me at my final fire. It’s in my laundry room, up above the key holder and a shelf that holds some ironing supplies. At least I’m above the spray starch! The photo is a stark reminder of what I used to do. It’s after a fire, and I look as old and as tired as I was. I look at it now and then, and it makes me happy. I will always be proud of what I accomplished during my 23-year career, and though most of my “stuff” has come down from the “Me” wall, I’ll always keep a little something to remind me.
Michael Morse recently retired from his position as captain, Rescue Co. 5, with the Providence (RI) Fire Department after 23 years. He lives a few miles from his old station with his wife, Cheryl, a couple of Maine Coon cats and their dog, Mr. Wilson. He writes about his experiences as a firefighter/EMT in his books, Rescuing Providence and Responding, and contributes articles to many fire/EMS-related publications.
