Editor in Chief - John McMahon Ret. Deputy Chief

The City A Commentary

By James Preston FF/NREMT-B

In light of recent events in our dear country I feel the need to express my feelings. This is how I do it, I write. All day things have been working around in my head and I thought, “ I have to sit down and get this on paper.” So here I sit, and where did it go? What has befallen us is a terrible thing. As a nation we have lost thousands of our fellow Americans, but as Firefighters, we have lost hundreds from our Family. We are hurt, physically and mentally. I can tell you I am just drained.

We all want to go and help, to dig and search for our lost Brothers and Sisters. We do what we can though, all of us. The nation has come together the way we do in times like these. Flags are on car antennae, hanging in front of houses and on doors. Candles are lit in windows. Across the street our neighbor and her daughters have a line of candles lit at the end of the driveway and played the star spangled banner on the street.

At work the mood is somber, but we are okay when we’re together. It’s when were alone that it hits hardest. We watch the news footage and listen to the radio reports as we drive. There’s no getting away from it, no matter how much we wish we could roll over look at the clock and say “Thank God it’s time to get up!” That was a crazy dream! That’s not an option. Today was the first time in twelve wonderful years that I saw my Wife scared, and that hurt too. Sure she was a little scared when she got the call that I was hurt at a structure fire, but that was just a strained knee. Oh, there was that haz-mat thing too, but that’s another story!

She was afraid, that this war we’re about to bring upon those responsible for this will be fought in part on our soil. I tried to convince her that this would not happen. Being right as always (Boy we hate to admit that!) she said, “It already has!” And she is right. We can’t say where this will go, but I know as Americans we will survive. We will come together the way Americans do and help each other through whatever happens. There are so many things we’ve all seen this week. Watching safe at home as people ran from debris falling from the ski. We watched clouds racing down streets like something from a horror movie; it was a horror, but unfortunately not a movie.

For us though, it’s a little different. We watch and we think of the operation. We know what’s being done at any given instant, where people are and what their jobs would be. I would never be so arrogant as to say I have an understanding of what our Brothers and Sisters went through that day, but we have a knowledge base to extend our version of the nightmare a little further than the layperson. This is what makes it so hard for us.

We see terrible things all the time; it’s the nature of what we do. We’ve all been to the wreck that will always be with us. We’ve been at the structure fire that gave us a hell of a pucker (and I’m not talking about the kind you get from sour candy!) or that code that just wouldn’t go the way we wanted, with the Family standing in the background crying and screaming. While I watched the events of 9-11-01 I felt as though I could smell the dust. I could feel the pain of seeing our Brothers and Sisters hurt and calling for help. One of the things I’ll never forget is the news video from early into the incident, it took me second then I realized the sound in the background were pass alarms going off all around.

I am so proud of them; the stories of the survivors were incredible. As all were rushing down the stairs our Brothers and Sisters of course were running up. Rushing up to assist those trapped on the upper floors. I’ll always remember the young man crying as he said “Co. 22, those guys are freaking Heroes, not one of them had fear in their eyes”! They helped people to safety and ran back up the stairs to find more, but were not seen again. These stories go on and on. I hear survivors speak of people at landings in wheel chairs waiting for help. And I think of my Brothers and Sisters carrying them down those stairs. And the glances shared, as they knew what was coming.

As asked, we will stay at home and care for our communities. Departments from surrounding states have been put on list to be called in when relief is needed. There are those who still take their gear and go down, report to staging and get assignments. I will never fault those Brothers and Sisters! I wanted to go as much as any, from across the country and from around the world. All who’ve expressed the need to be there helping. I won’t though, not to work. I won’t make things harder. They have what they need for now and I will be patient.

There is something I can do though. Show support! There have been many things that made me proud this week. I’m from Miami, and at times it can be a scary place to grow up. It didn’t match the stories of NYC though. It’s had some bad publicity. All my life I’ve heard of the dangerous streets of NYC. We’ve all seen the subways portrayed in movies as an ideal place to be robbed or worse. Heard the stories of the snobby people on the streets. Well NYC, you’ve proven to me and the world just how wrong these misconceptions are.

I saw the people of NYC come together, working in the streets, helping the rescue workers carry victims. Storekeepers opening doors and dragging people inside just before the choking clouds over took them.

I saw folks whom if I were pulling up to a scene would be wary of. Bandanas around heads were not red or blue but RED WHITE and BLUE! They stand on the side of the street with flags and signs saying “Thank You”, “Our Heroes” and many others. They waved and yelled as Fire/Rescue, Ems, construction workers and equipment went bye. They made me so Proud to be an American. Thank you New Yorkers!

I had only been to “The City” a couple of times. I’d transported a few burn patients to Presbyterian Hospital when beds in CT. were full, but I had never actually set foot on the streets. My experiences of NYC were driving to a hospital or what I could see from the George Washington Bridge. It’s Sunday, five days after the tragedy and all that will change!

I had planned to take my gear and spend my three days off working there. I won’t though, since command requested we not. I have to go down though. I want to show support for my Brothers and Sisters there and for the people of NYC. This is some of what that day was like.

Cheryl and I got up Sunday morning, had some breakfast put a backpack together and got in the car. It’s about an hour and a half from our house to Bridgeport; there we take a train the hour and twenty minutes to Grand Central Station. I’ve seen it in movies, but wow! From there we take the subway as far south as it was running. We off loaded at the Bowling Green station. This is all new to us, things we’d never done or seen.

As soon as the doors open it hits you. The air is thick and has the smell and taste of concrete. If you’ve ever cut it with a saw or been close as it was done, it was something like that. We walked, looking at the signs to find our way to the streets. Up the stairs and finally it’s daylight. It’s thick! Almost everyone has on dust mask. And I can see why. Much of the ground is still covered in the dust, there are barricades all over, Police and National Guard soldiers are on post. The smoke can be seen rising above the buildings. We look around for a few minutes then it’s back to the subway to head uptown a little.

We got off at the Fulton St. station and as before went up to get a look around. As we walked around the corner three of our Brothers of FDNY were walking towards us. They looked up and I saw they noticed the Maltese cross on the chest of my job shirt. Our eyes met and just a nod was exchanged. They kept walking covered in the white dust looking exhausted. MY heart went out to them and I think they could tell. Those of us with military backgrounds and those of Fire, Rescue, EMS and Police officers can most times tell when we see one of ours.

There’s something about the look, maybe the way they carry themselves. Then there are the ones who you can tell have been places, seen things that maybe some would rather not see. I’ve heard Vietnam Vets describe it as that far off look, like their looking through you. I saw that change in the eyes of one of my friends when he got back from NYC. We sent three ambulances with a Medic and two EMT’s on each. They didn’t say allot, but then again they didn’t have to. I know many with that look, perhaps at times I have it too, and these three Brothers had it. I hope that a smile and a nod could tell my feelings for them and Our Fallen. It’s getting late, back to the subway.

We go back to Grand Central and have something to eat and then went out for a look around before our train left. Walking around the streets there are families taping flyers to post and windows of buildings. This far north there are a lot of people on the street, I can only imagine what it’s like on a “normal” day.

We head back into the station and find our train and set off to find a seat. As we walked along the train I noticed a Brother walking towards us, a couple people who spoke to him for a minute stopped him. For some reason I waited till this conversation was over. When he turned and began walking again I could see his eyes were full and tears were running down his face. As he got to me I put my arm out and around his shoulder. I said where you from Bro? Monroe, CT. he replied.

I’m from South Windham I said, as he threw his arm over my shoulder and we walked down the station. He told me she said her Husband was missing and thanked him for helping. He said that’s the first person he’d met with a lost Family member, other than US. I just held him tight and we cried. I’m going to get this car he said. Okay, you be safe! And he replied “You too”!

We found some seats and sat there thinking. Outside the windows I see another Brother walking passed the car, he enters the next one removes his coat and takes a seat. Like the ride to the City the ride home was quiet, not allot of talking, many with that far off stare I mentioned before. On the way back from the restroom I stopped to talk to the Firefighter in the next car. I asked how he was and where he was from. I’m doing okay, he replied. He was from Danbury, in western CT.

He told me today was the first day Rescue 1 and 4 were back in service. What a great thing to hear. I told him to take care of himself. You too he said and I returned to my seat. We got to the stop for his transfer to the train headed for Danbury and he waved as he exited the train. Inside I said a prayer that God would take care of him and them all, ‘cause I know they all will be back tomorrow.

I can’t tell you how my nose feels, as far away as we were we still breathed a lot of thick air. When we reach Bridgeport we find our car and make the trek home. Not talking much just reflecting on the day. I had to go, and I did. Did it do any good? I hope so. Maybe being there for our Brother from Monroe was why I was there or to give a well-deserved nod to three exhausted boys of FDNY.

I bought film for my camera; I thought I would take a lot of pictures, but once there it almost felt disrespectful. I took a few, but mostly of the beauty of the city. I’m glad we made the trip today, and I will go again if called. I will go again anyway, because it is a beautiful city with wonderful people and some of The greatest members of Our Family in the World. I hold to the hope that more will be found alive and if not, that they all come home to us.

Thank you FDNY, EMS, NYPD and the people of NYC as well as all the others who’ve gone to help. And thanks to America and the World for all the incredible support. And also thank you to my Wonderful Wife for being there with me, I know it was tough.

GOD Bless and Keep You Safe!

And, GOD Bless America

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