January 16 – “Burn Trailer”

I was invited to witness one of the fire department’s training sessions yesterday.  The Texas City Fire Department brought down a big 18-wheeler-type trailer and parked it behind one of our stations.  Then they built a little house inside and topped it with a lot of straw.  It was like I was watching one of the three little pigs build his house.  The whole thing was then set on fire.  Then the group being trained entered.  All types of fire situations were covered, and the fire fighters were able to actually see the fire rolling around and over their heads.  In the words of one of them, “It is beautiful.  Just beautiful.” 

The city public information officer had already been there, and she suited up and entered the trailer with one of the groups.  Armed with that tidbit of information, the subtle and not-so-subtle urgings began for me to follow in her footsteps.  When they saw that I wasn’t going to succumb to their prodding to suit up and enter the fire (I have a beard, so no mask would give me a good seal.  Plus, they were all complaining about how sore their knees were.  Hmm.  Sore knees.  Not something I need extra help with right now), our Assistant Chief took me to the end of the trailer where a pile of debris was smoldering, occasionally flaring up again.  It was the pit where they threw the burned and burning wood from inside after each demonstration.  He assured me that this was THE place to watch what was happening, partly because the fire would keep me warm (The wind was pretty chilly at the time, so I was glad to have followed his lead).  I was unclear as to how I would be able to see anything though.  That is until I heard a loud crashing sound, like … well, like a hammer on the side of a trailer might sound.  And it came from inside.  Apparently that was a signal that the teachers inside were ready for the window to be opened.  And that’s when the whole experience entered another level. 

From my perch of safety I could still see the fire raging and rolling.  And the chief took the time to explain to me what the guys inside were hearing about fires and how they operate.  I was fascinated.  The fire behaved differently when different vents were opened in other parts of the truck, and a fan kept feeding the fire with plenty of oxygen, so it never came close to going out.  And when they finally began spraying water to extinguish the fire, the smoke almost instantly became white instead of black.  Fascinating.  Almost made me want to put the suit on and just hold my breath.  Or as one of the guys suggested, “We have a razor in the other room ...”  Wisdom and common sense prevailed over childlike foolishness, however.  I assured them that I would continue to trust them to deal with putting fires out, and I would be there to pray for them and support them … on the outside.

I did join our guys on duty at the station and the Texas City trainers and the Assistant Chief for lunch.  It was a lot of fun being a part of the banter that makes the fire service such a fascinating family.  I am certainly proud to be considered a part of it. 

Psalms 128:1 says, “Blessed are all who fear the Lord, who walk in his ways.”

Father, watch over those fire fighters.  The power of the fire was awesome and beautiful, and obviously dangerous.  Grant them your special touch.  Amen.