December 7 – “First Fire”

I finally made my first fire as chaplain.  Nathan stopped by the house on his way home from shift, and a structure fire call went out on our phone alarms.  We kind of looked at each other, and he said, “Hey, wanna go to a fire?  I’ll be your driver.”  And that’s all it took.  I punched up my scanner, slipped on my fire department shirt and we were off.  Almost as an afterthought, I grabbed my coat as well.  Good thing.  It was a cold, dreary, damp day in Galveston.  The temperature hovered around forty degrees, dipping into the thirties, with a wind chill much lower, for gusts had already been measured of up to thirty miles an hour.

When we arrived several engines were already on the scene.  A two story abandoned house was definitely aflame.  Battalion Chief Rourke took command of the scene, and his instructions guided firefighters throughout the fire-fight.  One crew approached the building, but the collapse of part of the structure caused their captain to pull them back and take a more defensive approach.  That meant they made sure the fire didn’t spread to the surrounding houses, and then just poured water onto it from a safe distance.  It was not worth endangering the lives of fire fighters.  Safety first.  Also the fire marshall’s office quickly determined that the house had been on a list of places to be demolished anyway.  So crews from stations one, two and five jumped into position and the dousing began. 

Smoke was billowing from the attic and an occasional flame licked its way through the roof.  A group of fire fighters struggled to remove a board that had been nailed across the front door in an effort to keep vagrants from entering.  It didn’t take them long to pull it down.  When they subsequently kicked in the front door, flames spewed briefly through the new opening.  Long tendrils seemed to grasp for the retreating fire fighters in a futile effort to draw them into the inferno.  A torrent of flames roared through the entire first floor.  The fire had fully engulfed the structure.  As soon as the fire fighters were clear, hoses spewed forth with their watery prowess, and the beast returned to its interior lair. 

Soon the water lines were shifted to make available the secret weapon.  Water suddenly exploded from the cannon atop one of the trucks, striking the structure with such force that weakened areas around upper windows crumbled beneath the assault, clearing the way for more access to the hottest spots near the roof.  Shingles flew into the air, dropping harmlessly into the lake that had formed around the building.  Fire fighters trudged through the water, heedless of the increasingly bitter cold conditions, to take up positions as instructed.  Fire Chief Wisko arrived and deferred his authority to the on-site commander, handling instead other auxiliary duties.  Paramedic crews on standby handed out dry towels to the drenched firefighters.  Someone brought up a coffeepot, and brewed a batch.  Engine eight arrived and spelled the weary battlers.  I think every crew on duty at the time eventually arrived to assist.  Crews from Hitchcock and LaMarque were called in to cover possible calls for the Galveston trucks.  Jamaica Beach Volunteer Fire Department covered the West End of the Island.  One crew creatively took up a position on the second floor porch of the house next door to get a more effective angle for their hose.  Others slowly advanced closer and closer to the structure until water was shooting through first floor windows and the collapsed second floor and on through the burned out roof itself.  The billowing black smoke that indicated a living, active, angry beast, finally gave way to the white smoke of surrender.  The fire was declared officially defeated. 

Of course crews still had hours of follow-up before them.  Hoses to be rolled and put away.  Equipment to be checked and returned to their proper places on the trucks.  Extra fire fighters were called in to keep watch and prevent smoldering flare-ups. 

I have to say that I was impressed greatly by all that I saw.  What might have appeared chaotic to an outside observer was actually a tightly controlled operation.  Every movement was calculated to bring the fire under control as quickly as possible, while maintaining a safe environment for the fire fighters as well as for the inevitable numerous spectators.  The fire marshalls on the scene stopped to talk briefly as well.  Fire Marshall Robinson is an incredible teacher, and his words of instruction were especially enlightening.  The fire fighters who saw me went out of their way to welcome me to the scene.  One of the captains even offered to let me use his coat.  I guess my shivering was more noticeable than I thought.  However, I had the good fortune to be able to head quickly home to thaw out my weary bones.  The fire fighters’ shift had just begun, though.  And for the next sixteen or eighteen hours, they had to be ready to do it all over again.  This is one fine group of men and women Galveston has on call for situations like yesterday.  I for one appreciate and support them.  Thanks, Galveston Fire and Rescue.  I’m proud of you.

Ezekiel 22:30-31 says, “I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.  So I will pour out my wrath on them and consume them with my fiery anger, bringing down on their own heads all they have done, declares the Sovereign Lord.”

Father, I know that’s kind of a strange verse to anchor this post, but it reminded me that the fire fighters stand in the gap for our city.  Surround them with your protection.  And as a bonus … make them happy.  Amen.