By Michael N. Ciampo
Receiving a call for an odor of smoke can be challenging. Initially your mind is tossing around many ideas: Is it food on the stove? Is it rubbish? Is it even a job? Donning your bunker gear, waiting to hear the address so you can start your real size-up, you begin to process in your mind the type of structure you’re responding to at that location. It’s important to remember that size-up begins with the receipt of the alarm.
If you’re a volunteer firefighter, listen carefully to the call over your pager. On the ride to the firehouse or while responding to the scene, prepare a mental picture of the location and recall your department’s procedures for this type of incident. In addition, drive safely to the firehouse or scene. If you’re on duty in a firehouse, the same is true—listen to the information announced. If you happen to be the member announcing the information, remember to announce it in a clear voice, not screaming or reading it fast. Make sure to stress any pertinent information: “First-due engine and truck, 111 Brennan Place, odor of smoke on the fourth floor.”
As we arrived on the fourth floor, we saw a family standing out in the hallway pointing toward their apartment. We could see a slight haze inside and could smell the distinct odor of melting plastic as we approached the doorway. We entered the hallway and noticed four young children standing near the two adults. Quickly, one of us asked, “Is there anyone else inside the apartment?” The answer was, “No.” From experience, we firefighters should always be wary of people’s answers when we ask specific questions like this at the scene. We should always search the apartment, no matter how light or thick the smoke or fire conditions are. There have been many times when you received word that no one was home and you actually found somebody and vice versa.
As we passed the children, we noticed the fear in their eyes and how they looked standing there, some only in diapers and a shirt. Once we got into the apartment, we quickly located the problem because of the heavy haze inside the kitchen. A large plastic spoon melted onto the heating coil inside the dishwasher, causing the odor and haze. After removing the spoon from the coil and soaking it in the sink, we searched and ventilated the entire apartment. As we began to take up from this minor incident and informed the tenants of the situation, the children’s eyes were focused on us. You could see their fear of being so close to firefighters as they hid between their parents’ legs or clung tighter to their parents’ necks. Now was the time to pass on one of those lessons that the textbooks don’t teach.
We knelt down to their level, removed our helmets, and said hello, but that only seemed to make them more scared. We asked if anyone wanted to try on the helmet, but that got no response until their parents encouraged them and reassured them that we would not hurt them. The oldest walked forward, still a little shy, and reached for the helmet. We placed it on his head, which produced an immediate smile on his face and then on his siblings’ faces, too. We put a flashlight around him so he could shine it down the hallway and at his siblings. All of a sudden, they started to smile, laugh, and run around the hallway, wielding the flashlight like a laser sword. We let them play for a few minutes to teach them that firefighters are their friends and not people to be afraid of and that we’re always here to help them. When we went to leave, we did the customary “high fives” and began to walk away, hearing shouts of “Thank you, firefighters.”
While walking down the stairs, one of the members stated, “Those kids were great, weren’t they?” Someone responded, “Yeah.” Right about then I wanted to say to the members: “Hey guys, you were great, too. Dinner was on the table getting ice cold, and all of you stopped and took the time to make their night. You also taught them the importance of not being afraid of the big grown-ups in weird suits, helmets on their heads, and big tanks on their backs.”
Sometimes this job is more than big shiny fire trucks, bunker gear, tools, smoke, fire, and emergencies. It’s also about compassion, caring, and putting others first.
During this time of year, we often hear about fire departments stepping up and doing the right thing for people in need. Usually, across the country, firefighters are delivering gifts to a family who lost everything in a fire or to sick children in the hospital or buying and delivering a holiday meal to a needy family. These are all great acts of kindness, done from the goodness of our hearts. However, it’s in our daily schedules that we should continue to do what we do best, going the extra mile and helping—whether it’s the kid who habitually knocks on the door to put air in his bike tire or spending five extra minutes on a scene to help an individual. These are the daily routine items that give us the respected title of “firefighters”—the people who are there to help others, even if it means sacrificing themselves.
During this time of giving, let’s also remember to give ourselves something special: the gift of operating safely on the fireground.
MICHAEL N. CIAMPO is a 24-year veteran of the fire service and a lieutenant in the Fire Department of New York. Previously, he served with the District of Columbia Fire Department. He has a bachelor’s degree in fire science from John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York City. He is the lead instructor for the FDIC Portable Ladder H.O.T. program. He wrote the Ladder chapter and co-authored the Ventilation chapter for Fire Engineering’s Handbook for Firefighter I and II (Fire Engineering, 2009) and is featured in “Training Minutes” truck company videos on www.FireEngineering.com.
