By STEVE PRZIBOROWSKI
One of the most important features of a firehouse (not a fire station) is the firehouse kitchen table. I prefer the word “firehouse” to “fire station,” which is probably more commonly used. There are many “old-school” names, phrases, and traditions that are important to keep, just like many of us prefer home to the term “house.” For those working in career organizations, the average firefighter (company officer, shift commander, or anyone with a rank assigned to a firehouse) will spend approximately one-third or more of his life at the firehouse working with a team of other professionals with the same common goal: accomplish the mission; serve the community; be there, ready to go when the bell goes off; and be the best we can for those who allow us to serve in such an awesome career within the fire service.
This is not to meant to diminish the work, importance, or service of those who are not career but rather volunteers or another fire service member of any rank who may or may not be regularly assigned to a firehouse. For those normally assigned to a nonfirehouse location such as an administrative office or a maintenance or fleet facility, those members may already be holding regular staff meetings for many of the following reasons that ensure the communication is flowing, transparent, and inclusive and place all team members on the same page.
(1) The firehouse kitchen table—the most sacred and powerful place within any firehouse in the world. (Photo courtesy of author.)
The Firehouse Kitchen Table
One of the most sacred areas of a firehouse, not to mention one of the most sacred aspects of a firefighter’s career, is the firehouse kitchen table. Our second family consists of those who we are fortunate to serve alongside on every shift for 12 hours, 24 hours, 48 hours—any length of time.
- Drawn by Fire: Coffee Pot Brotherhood
- HOW TO GET ALONG IN THE FIRE STATION
- Today’s Company Officer – Are You Up for the Challenge?
- The Fire Officer’s Role in Reducing Firefighter Line-of-Duty Deaths
In most departments, your first course of action at the start of each shift is to know to which piece of apparatus or company you are assigned. Next, ensure your personal protective equipment (PPE) is ready to go. Then, do a thorough and complete check of your assigned apparatus, which may be more than one, depending on how your department operates; some departments cross-staff multiple fire apparatus, and crews may jump on different companies based on the call type. Now, check all of the assigned equipment on that apparatus; we may be required to use it any given time and on a moment’s notice.
Once you complete the apparatus and equipment checks, unless there are any pressing things (i.e., scheduled training or other duties, unscheduled responses), go to the firehouse kitchen and your favorite (or assigned) spot at the table. (I jokingly say “assigned” because, as we know, firefighters can be territorial and creatures of habit.)
As a rookie, after I finished my morning checks, I would try to be the last one to the kitchen. If there were still open spaces around the table, I was trained to ask the common-courtesy question, “Where am I expected to sit?” or “Where would you like me to sit?” Some crews would say, “Sit wherever you want,” “Your seat is there,” or “Sit anywhere you want.” As soon as you attempted to sit, they would then say, “But not there, or there, or there.” Obviously, I was smart enough to try to be the last one to the table and observant enough to who was sitting where. If there was an obvious “terrible” spot (with your back to the television or next to the phone), I knew it would probably be mine until I got off probation or gained some seniority. We all must pay our dues and learn how to play the game if we want to earn respect and credibility.
Those who are not in the fire service may not understand the importance of the firehouse kitchen table; many people simply don’t spend much of their day at the table in their home. They eat on the run or maybe in another room, or they eat and run to do other, more important things. However, for those of us in the fire service, it is not uncommon to spend a significant portion of our day at the kitchen table, especially if we work in an old or a smaller firehouse that may not have a day room with recliners. Here, we try to solve our department’s problem of the day or an issue in the fire service or the world, or it is where we eat our meals or just have coffee, “shoot the bull” to get to know our crew, just have fun while waiting for the bell to go off, or deal with the next assigned task such as firefighter training, company fire prevention inspections, hydrant maintenance, public education sessions, and so on.
Although many members in busier departments may be prone to eat their meals quickly—knowing the bell could go off at any moment—departing the table after a meal does not happen as quickly. As a rookie, the lesson I was taught was to “be the last to grab your food and sit down and the first to get up from the table to do the dishes.” Well, one thing I didn’t hear during my first firehouse assignment was, “Sit down rookie, the dishes can wait. Bond with your new crew. We want to get to know you, so sit down and soak in the stories and lessons from the veterans.”
In some departments, although the rookie is expected to wash the dishes, he may “roll the dice” to determine who does them. And, as the rookie, you will roll it. However, even if you win, get up when the time is right and wash those dishes regardless. Don’t be the one who says, “I won!” Yes, you won the battle, but the key is winning the war. In this case, to earn credibility and respect, take the high road and do those dishes anyway. Play the long game. Some of the best lessons I’ve learned over the years involved sitting back and soaking in all the stories, knowledge, tips, and ideas thrown around by members with all levels of experience.
Although it’s true that rookies—those new and not new to the firehouse—should speak the least and listen the most, they should also ask questions to learn more about the department, colleagues, past responses, expectations, and so on. Being recently retired, the time I spent around the kitchen table is what I miss most. Here, I broke bread with my fellow members; cracked jokes; told and heard stories, both good and bad, personal and professional; and developed a natural comradery that occurs with crews that build their own team.
Although it was fun to train for and go on responses and do the daily tasks of a typical firefighter, being at the firehouse kitchen table was still the most fun I had. Even after I was promoted to the chief officer ranks as a deputy chief working in our administrative offices Monday through Friday, I occasionally stopped by our firehouses to see the crews, stay in touch, and try not to forget where I came from. When showing up before lunch or dinner, I sometimes heard crews ask, “Chief, want to stay and eat?” Of course, my response was, “Yes, but only if you have enough, and I can pay my way.” Even a crew of three or four regularly cooks for 10, and rarely would a crew take my money after offering it: “Our treat, Chief; thanks for coming by.”
The Morning Meeting
Throughout the years I spent in the firehouse, after daily checkouts were complete, most days started with a crew meeting at the kitchen table; this included breakfast, sharing stories from the daily newspaper, and some form of discussion. The good company officers would provide an update on current things that were happening such as discussions on training, mentoring, or the plan for the day; asking for input on any special needs; and, ultimately, their part on building, maintaining, and engaging the team on the mission and how they could best support the community’s needs.
The company officers who are retired in place (RIP) or believe in the laissez-faire style of leadership may engage in some of the items mentioned above; in some cases, many do few or none of these items, let alone call together the crew on a regular basis. Sadly, I’ve seen some officers over the years spend most of their time in their offices or somewhere other than where their crew is, whether it’s the kitchen table or the day room.
What Makes a Good Company Officer?
One of my former partners, Captain (Ret.) Neil Linney, was the senior captain at our “Cupertino” firehouse (we called our firehouses by unique names), which consisted of a crew of three on Engine 1 and a crew of four on Truck 1. Linney ran the best morning meetings I ever took part in during my entire career. In double-company firehouses such as this, the crews typically rotate to ensure proficiency on all apparatus, but on my arrival as the second captain, I knew that Linney preferred the truck, and I was fine with that; I wanted to be the engine captain because it was our second busiest engine and I enjoyed running calls, not to mention I bid that firehouse to increase my knowledge, skills, and abilities in the hopes that one day I would take the battalion chief’s promotional examination.
My first day at my new firehouse arrives. I’m stoked and ready to go. I arrive early; bring some donuts for the off-going and oncoming crews; have a truck packed with my PPE, bedding, uniforms, and anything else to throw into my new locker; and start planting my “roots.” I drop my gear by the engine, say hello to the off-going crew members who are awake, start talking to and catching up with those I haven’t seen in a while, and begin checking out my apparatus and familiarizing myself with the equipment. Then, the crew I am now working with starts showing up, and the same conversations occur.
Thankfully, I had previously worked at this firehouse with Linney on overtime trades, so I knew that the shift change would occur at 0800 hours. I had to have my gear on the rig and my body in the captain’s office because that’s where the off-going crew of seven met up with the oncoming crew of seven to start roll call; exchange information; ensure everyone’s replacement was present and accounted for; and start the pre-morning meeting, which would occur at about 0900 hours, after the apparatus and equipment were checked out. This was a great way to start the shift and pass along information to and from the person we were replacing.
In past years, firefighters from many departments used to start the shift roll call on the apparatus floor, and a few still do this. Some still may even make fun of those who did or how each shift at the Cupertino firehouse did this at 0800 hours, when the shift roll call began in the office. Sadly, those who mock this or do not see value in it usually have never participated in it or don’t appreciate its benefits and feel the best shift change message to their replacement should be, “Good morning, nothing to pass on, four calls yesterday, slept the night. See you in a few days, brother.” Then you find out that some key piece of information was missing in that pass on, but only after you needed to know what it was earlier.
Once the crew felt their PPE, apparatus, and equipment were ready to go for the shift, we slowly migrated into the kitchen to grab a drink or something to eat, take our spot at the table, and spend quality time around it as we started our morning meeting. This is where Linney put his stamp on what I feel was the best morning meeting to start off a shift. Since this was my first official shift with my new crew, once all seven of us were in the kitchen and sitting at the table, I waited for Linney, as the senior captain, to kick things off; he was a strong, confident, and credible leader whom the crews respected.
As we were eating, reading the paper, and talking in small groups, Linney grabbed the green logbook and notices-and-memos binder from the center of the table and opened it, which had tabs with official department notifications from administration, program managers, or anyone with the official capacity to send them out. The binder also had printed e-mails of training class flyers, personal items for sale, safety bulletins, and so on.
Some might question why we printed out e-mails when everyone had their own e-mail address. First, at times, the firehouse e-mail inbox would get something specifically related to that firehouse or first-due area and, because of different shifts and sometimes different personnel, there needed to be a way to ensure things specific to that firehouse went to that e-mail inbox so all could benefit. Also, we needed to ensure that the important information related to the firehouse, the first-due area, and other official releases was read, discussed, and understood.
At one point, I didn’t need the officer discussing important information that was disseminated from headquarters because everyone had an e-mail address. I eventually found out that, although everyone has an e-mail address, it doesn’t mean they read everything; if they do, they understand the intent or importance of the message, which is why it’s critical for the officer to discuss important items to ensure the crews understand the “why” and ask questions of what is expected of them. Most importantly, this ensures that they are up to date on what they need to know or do. We also printed out the e-mails and would have the officer place a box on the table for each of the three shifts to initial and confirm they read and discussed them as a crew.
Next, Linney would go through the notices-and-memos binder tab by tab and begin to announce things such as, “We went on our four-day on Sunday, and here are the notices and memos that came out while we were off.” He would then cover each statement, ask us questions to ensure we understood them, and initial each after we had discussed it. Linney would then cover the other new items that might have been added to the binder such as a reminder of a strategy-and-tactics class being offered by the San Jose (CA) Fire Department (our neighbor) and the registration info, if interested. Also, “Captain Smith is selling his bass boat, so if you’re interested, here are the details ….”
After the binder was reviewed (specific to our days off), Linney then grabbed the green logbook, which contained key points the officer documented for that shift such as the names of the off-going and oncoming personnel response info (i.e., location, call number, actions taken, times, and so on), an executive summary of what was needed in the National Fire Incident Reporting System report on the computer, training that occurred, daily duties performed (i.e., apparatus and equipment checks, housework, and so on), weekly duties performed (i.e, generator checks, specific apparatus, equipment of firehouse checks), or monthly or annual duties performed (i.e., hose testing, supply ordering, pump testing, and so on). If we performed any fire prevention, public education, and public relations duties, we would also list them there. If we had to send any equipment to the shop for repair, we would document the help desk ticket number, the problem, and the replacement.
At one of our weekly command staff meetings, someone asked, “Why do the firehouses still have the handwritten logbooks since we are living in the age of computers?” Although these events occurred in 2005, we still used a handwritten logbook despite having multiple computers in double-company firehouses and e-mail as well as being situated in the heart of the Silicon Valley. Thankfully, the operations deputy chief didn’t just send out a memo to the firehouses saying we were no longer doing this archaic process since everything is documented electronically. The smart operations chief who oversaw all firehouses was an experienced firefighter who felt it would be a great discussion point at our next officers meeting, which occurred twice a year. He brought this up by saying, “We are thinking of saving you all some time and work by having you no longer complete the green logbooks. Any issues?”
Naively, I thought most would be happy because it was less work. I could never have been more wrong. We had veteran and junior officers of all ages raise their hands in opposition. Some cited tradition; some cited an added level of documentation should the computers fail or the information get lost in cyberspace; and some, I assume, just didn’t want the change. There was so much discussion and opposition that we felt it was best to just go with what the majority wanted, which was to not remove it and to keep one at each firehouse. Who are we to say no?
Next, Linney would open the logbook and notices-and-memos binder and would begin: “Alright, we went on our four-day starting Sunday at 0800. At 0945, Engine 1 ran a car fire at 21250 Stevens Creek Boulevard at DeAnza College in Parking Lot A. At 1113, Engine 1 ran an EMS call at Vallco Shopping Center at the Sears Store, 10123 North Wolfe Road. At 1330 hours, they took Truck 1 to the shop for some routine maintenance. At 1530 hours, the fire chief sent out a notice we already covered, advising of three new captain promotions.” He would then go over each day we were off, sharing the executive summary of the calls as well as the important things that our counterparts on the A and B shifts did during their day that was worthy of making it to the logbook.
When Linney would address a recent call, he would ask crew members several questions and have them point in the direction of the address of that call in relation to the firehouse. He would then quiz them on leaving the firehouse, asking about the travel route used to get to the response address as well as on what part of the block it was situated. For example, was the address at the end or middle of the block? Regarding the street number, which way did the numbers increase or decrease? Did the street name change as it continued into the next town or city? Where in our jurisdiction did we see the same street name but with a different ending, such as “Smith Street” becoming “Smith Avenue”? and so on. This could cause confusion, especially since you may get dispatched to one location and find nothing, realizing that the other “Smith” is on the other side of town. When I was at our Quito Firehouse, we had an Oriole Way and an Oriole Court in our first-due area, but these streets were actually on the opposite ends of our first-due area and at least five minutes apart. I learned this the hard way when our dispatcher was given bad information by the caller, and it wasn’t until one of my crew mentioned, “Is there a chance it could be the other Oriole?” It was.
Ask yourself the following questions when considering your response:
- What side of the street is that address (east, west, south, or north)?
- What is unique about that address, and is it a target hazard (apartment or hotel complex, shopping center, big box store, and so on)? If it is, what do we know about that complex? Are there standpipes or sprinklers?
- Where are the fire department connections for those sprinklers and standpipe systems?
- Are there hydrants on site or only on the street?
- What hazards should we expect there?
- What is the type of construction?
- Does the property have a history with fire?
- Are there unique things to be aware of at this address or while responding to the call?
As the new member on the crew, all this quizzing made me want to quickly learn my first-due area; I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of the crew, and I also wanted to gain credibility and respect for knowing my area. I also knew that I could have a crew to which I was not normally assigned since the normally assigned crew were sick, on vacation, or had traded off shifts, and they would be looking at me to get them to the call. Again, this was 2005—before we had routing software on iPads. However, although routing software can be found on most apparatus as well as on the phones of every firefighter onboard, nothing beats having a good backup plan, which can be both hard-copy (paper) map books or even in the form of actual learning and knowing your first-due area. Smart, prepared firefighters know it’s not if but when the technology will fail or just provide bad information; nothing beats the old-school, low-tech way of doing things. However, learning and knowing your first-due area require time and energy, and these things were done at our kitchen table.
Besides making us learn all of our addresses; target hazards; and, ultimately, first-due and adjoining response areas, Linney was also doing something even more valuable: trusting and verifying the information that was or was not passed on to us by the previous crews. For example, one time he said, “At 0400 yesterday, the engine ran an EMS call for a cardiac arrest.” He would then look at the engine paramedic and expect him to respond back with either, “The oxygen tank was good to go,” or, on occasion, “The oxygen tank was drained; thankfully, we check our gear, so I replaced it.” If you have been in the fire or emergency medical services (EMS), there has probably been at least one time you came on shift and, as you checked your gear, found an oxygen tank that was dead or mostly used, missing equipment that had not been replaced, dirty equipment that was not cleaned after using, or some other item that was not in the condition it should have been. More than once, I checked out my EMS gear at the start of a shift only to find an empty oxygen cylinder and dirty or missing equipment. However, I’d rather find it at the start of the shift than when we truly needed it on the scene of a call. The unfortunate part is that we rely on our counterparts to do their jobs, and most of the time they do. However, we are all human, make mistakes, and get lazy or complacent at times—me included. So, when the bells go off at the start of the shift and you jump on the call for the person you’re relieving, you’re hoping he did his job. Otherwise, you’ll be the one embarrassed on scene when something isn’t there or not working properly.
During another meeting, Linney also noted, “The engine and truck went to a structure fire last night at 0200. The engine used the red and the green 1¾-inch attack hoselines as well as 200 feet of five-inch hose to hit the hydrant, and the truck used the chain saws to do some vertical ventilation as well as a couple salvage covers.” Obviously, self-contained breathing apparatus (SCBA) were used. Linney would then look at us all and expect us to report back that all equipment was put back, cleaned, and ready to go. On occasion, someone would say, “That explains why one of the SCBA bottles was down to 25 percent, the halligan was dirty, and the salvage cover is hanging up drying in the hose tower or outside on the hose rack.”
The final example was probably the worst I had ever seen. One morning, at the start of our four-day, Linney announced that the engine ran a car fire at “such and such” address. Like he did for most other calls he shared, he shot a look at the driver for that day, who was known for doing the bare minimum; never the stellar employee or most dialed-in firefighter, he was also never held accountable by any supervisor with whom he had worked over the years (me included; I take responsibility for not doing a better job of holding him accountable). Linney looked at him again and said something like, “If I go out to the engine and look at the pump panel, I will see a full water tank, correct?” The driver, having just enough hesitation in his voice, got up and said that he needed to go to his car. Well, the driver got up to go look at the water level gauge on the engine, and so Linney and the rest of us followed behind. Sure enough, the water level in the tank was nearly empty. Why? Because the driver had not done his full apparatus precheck; had he done that, he would have noticed that the water tank was empty. On a side note, just because the gauge shows a particular level (hopefully “full”), there is still a benefit to going on top of the apparatus to pull the cap and look inside to verify that there is water because gauges (especially electronic ones) are not foolproof.
So, we had a driver who was checking the boxes on the daily checkout list and then cutting corners. This led to a bigger issue of trust and what else he was not doing or verifying. What made it worse was that it also happened on the first day of our four-day. The crew, who used their water to extinguish the car fire, also forgot to refill the water tank. The next day’s crew didn’t notice this for their 24-hour shift. Then, the same crew who responded to the car fire two days earlier returned for their 24-hour shift, and their driver apparently also didn’t do his full precheck. Then, the crew who had also missed it yesterday missed it again! So, in four days, two crews missed that their primary apparatus was void of the 500 gallons of water that is carried in the tank.
We don’t fight a lot of fire, and it’s not uncommon to have to not even tap into tank water for weeks, if not months. Unfortunately, this can build laziness, apathy, and complacency (among other things) if we allow it. If it wasn’t for Linney reviewing the logbook and the other crew’s calls made while we were off, we could have found ourselves responding to a call requiring tank water but not having any. That could have been extremely embarrassing, not to mention negligent to the good name of our department, the fire service, and so on. Can you imagine the attorney for a family whose child died because the first-due engine didn’t have any tank water and it was proven that nobody had checked out their apparatus and equipment? Luckily, nothing bad happened, but it did provide some good discussion Linney and I had with the captains from the other two shifts, who were shocked and embarrassed that their crews didn’t catch that major error.
Doing all the above forced us all to ensure that we did an extremely thorough check of our apparatus and equipment; this helped reduce the chance of mediocrity, complacency, laziness, and apathy. In between running calls, Linney would then share the plan for the day to ensure we were all prepared and informed and could manage our respective day as well. For my part, I would sometimes bring in articles I printed out from Fire Engineering or a “Firefighter Close Calls” e-mail from Billy Goldfeder and Gordon Graham to share and discuss safety, strategy and tactics, best practices, and so on. Although this is something we continued for our time assigned at the same firehouse, I continued doing it in his absence when he was off for the day or when I went to other firehouse assignments as a captain. It’s also something I encourage others to do as I’m sharing here.
As an added benefit, we are expected to complete a minimum of two hours per day of training (standard across the country), which included the time we spent at the kitchen table doing the aforementioned things. Eating breakfast, reading the paper, and “shooting the bull” are not training. However, most of what Linney expected of us and performed such as policy review, training discussions, area familiarization, and so on qualified as training, and we made sure we documented the time spent doing so on each shift, whether it was just 15 minutes or a one-hour discussion that breaks out (depending on the topic and available time). Every second counted. Sometimes, we would train more than two hours at the firehouse or in our first-due area later in the shift, and sometimes we didn’t have time outside of the morning meeting.
Some of the challenges of today’s fire officers as well as the entire crew involve time management, planning, and organizational skills. You can overlook discussions on trying to do more with less, additional duties and responsibilities, increasing call volumes, and so on if you don’t properly manage your time as well as plan and organize your day. As they say, if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. Thus, taking the time to do a proper and thorough morning meeting at your firehouse kitchen table can ensure that you are building and maintaining a collaborative, cohesive, and well-trained team of talented professionals ready to take on the challenges of the day while also not being caught off guard or unprepared; someone could be ready to film us in action on our worst day. As an officer, if you allow or settle for mediocrity, your crew will do just that. However, if you challenge them in a tactful, respectful, consistent, and productive manner, they should rise to the occasion when the bell goes off and be able to meet and exceed the mission at hand. If we are truly here for them, let’s put the time and effort into making it about them!
Author’s note: Thanks to Captain (Ret.) Neil Linney for being the inspiration for this article.
STEVE PRZIBOROWSKI is a 30-year fire service veteran who retired at the end of 2021 as a deputy chief for the Santa Clara County (CA) Fire Department. He is also the founder of Code3FireTraining.com, where he presents sessions on leadership, officer, and career development. Prziborowski has been an FDIC International instructor since 2009. He received the 2020 Ronny J. Coleman Leadership Legacy Award from the CPSE and in 2008 was awarded the 2008 California Fire Instructor of the Year Award. Prziborowski is the author of 101 Tips to Ace Your Promotional Exam (Fire Engineering, 2021) and the self-published books How to Excel at Fire Department Promotional Exams, Reach for the Firefighter Badge, and The Future Firefighter’s Preparation Guide. His next book, Courage Under Fire Leadership (also from Fire Engineering), is forthcoming.
