I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames, or that family returning home, only too find their house and
belongings damaged or lost for good.
I wish you could know what it is like too search a burning bedroom for trapped children, flames rolling above your
head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen below you burns.
I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 a.m. as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring
him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting his wife and
family to know everything possible was done to try to save his life.
I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear,
the sound of flames crackling , the eeriness of being able to see the
absolutely nothing in dense smoke-sensations that be become too familiar
with.
I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a
multiple alarm fire.
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire " Is it a
false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" or to an EMS call, "What is wrong with the
patient? Is it minor or life threatening? Is the caller really in distress
or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or gun?"
I wish you could be in the emergency room, as a doctor pronounces dead the beautiful five year-old girl
that I have been trying to save during the past 25 minutes. Who will never go on her first date or say the words "I love you Mommy",
again.
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine or my
personal vehicle, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal,
my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield
the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us however,
your first comment upon our arrival will be "It took you forever
to get here!"
I wish you could only know my thoughts as I help extricate a
girl of a teenage years from the remains of her automobile. "What if this
was my sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What were her parents reaction
going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in
hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and
greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I
nearly did not come back from the last call.
I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally and sometimes
physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their
attitudes of , " It will never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional, and mental drain or missed meals, lost sleep and
forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you would know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save
a life or persevering someone' s property, or being able to be there in time
of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is
Mommy okay?" Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own eyes and not knowing what to
say,. Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You
know all along he did not have his seat belt on. A sensation that I have become familiar with. Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will
never truly understand or appreciate who I am , we are, or what our job really means to us.... I wish you could though..
-Author unknown-