Editor in Chief - John McMahon Ret. Deputy Chief

The Anniversary

By Jim Preston, FF./NREMT-B

Here I sit once again, in front of this keyboard, trying to put into words the feelings that pour over me when I think of lost Brothers. Many times I have written of the events of December 3rd, 1999, some of these I share, and some are merely ramblings only for myself. At times I think it could be some sort of self-torture, a pain so strong and deep, but one we resist letting go of.
It’s December 5th, and my Wife took the day off to be with me, for the short road trip I planned to Worcester., MA. This would be my first pilgrimage to the site where six of our Brothers were lost.
For a year I waited, not making the time to go, this or that was going on and I just didn’t get there. I thought to myself, I would do something for this anniversary. So I set up a small service to be held at our Station, nothing fancy, we would just pull the apparatus out onto the apron, the Chief would wind up the Q, and sound the air horn six times, once for each of our Fallen Brothers.
I also set up a minute of radio silence at the ambulance service where I work, and wrote a message to be read at the beginning. I heard it read over the scanner in the engine as we pulled out of the station. We stood there on the apron in our turnout gear, helmet over heart, as the air horn pierced the cool night air, and then it was done. I pulled off my gear, my work uniform underneath, and off to work I went. I wore the W6 pin on my coat and we talked of the loss through the night. The bond we share is strong, something no one understands, and we are more than Family. We talked of the articles we read in the newspaper; the reports on the TV news, there were small blurbs about the anniversary all over. But still, it was not enough.
The next morning, which was the 4th, I slept very late, a recovery from the long set of nights. Then I planned my trip, I would go in the morning, and my Wife said, I’d go with you. I woke early, went to the back room and dug up this old hat, the first hat I was given when I joined the Fire Department, I don’t know why I chose this, on the news I’ve seen shirts and coats, flowers and notes. For some reason this was the first thing that came to mind.
The ride up Rte. 395 was a quiet one; just the radio softly playing, not much was said. As we approached exit 14 , I felt a little nervous, I thought to my self, this is going to be tough. We made the turn onto Franklin Street and the vision was incredible. There was one car parked on the side of the road next to the fence, I pulled in front of it and stopped a little ways ahead. Along the fence there were so many things placed with such thought and love. We got out of the car and walked around the corner to start at the beginning of the memorials
We stopped at each one and read it carefully, shirts from Departments all over, each with names or some little message written on it. There were pictures of all kinds, from the Memorial Service, pictures of the Six and Religious pictures. There were pictures drawn by school children, with words written from the heart. There was a collection of letters written by an entire class of children, laminated and made into a book and left for all to read. The shirts were from all over the country, Washington State, Chicago, New York, Connecticut and Massachusetts amongst others. There was even one that reminded me of the first time I thought of being a Firefighter, Metro-Dade Fire Rescue of South Florida.
In the time we were there, cars would stop, one, then another, people would get out and walk the fence as we were. There were people of all ages, all races and all walks of life.
Two nurses on lunch ate their sandwiches in the car, and then got out to walk. I’m sure that this goes on every day, and it made me happy to see. One thing that I will always remember was a two-page letter, written by the Sons of our Brother Paul Brotherton, it started with, we wrote this letter to the one person we thought it should be to, Our Father Paul A. Brotherton, it was, to say the least, very moving.
One thing that struck me about the site was its size. In pictures, and as I watched the events unfold on television it seemed so huge, a monstrous building. But as I stood there looking through the fence, I thought, it seems so small! My Wife was standing close to me, and I looked at her and said, “It seems so small.” Yes it does, she replied. I told her, as we stand here looking at it, it may seem small, but if you’re lost inside, it must have seemed so big! The tears began to flow; I thought I was doing pretty well until this point.
There was one thing left to do, there are many Brothers and Sisters of mine who may not be able to make this trip, or maybe they will, but this week was special. I said their names silently there, just to let, Jerry, Paul, Tommy, James, Timmy and Joe hear them come from my lips. I then went down on one knee, I spoke to the Chief upstairs, I thanked him for allowing us to do this job we love so. I asked that he watch over us and protect us as we do what must be done, and I ask that our love be given to all our Fallen Heroes.
Now I was ready to go, I hung that old faded hat on the fence, looked around one last time and got in the car as others pulled in and stopped. I think at times we take for granted that we will come home. When we pull on our coats and climb on the truck, we pack up and anticipate the work we will do. It goes over in our heads as we head off to the job, entry, vent and search. These things are second nature to us. Let us remember that we are given this day, but we are not promised the next!
I hope that there will never be another lost Brother or Sister, and that there will never be another Worcester Cold Storage and Warehouse, but that is the nature of the beast. Until we get the funding needed for the Fire Service there will be tragedies, until every Firefighter has a portable radio and every Department has a thermal imaging camera, we must fight.
Write your Mayor, Governor and Congressman. We may not fight the war on drugs, or have the occasion to be shot every day, but our lives are ON THE LINE, every time we leave the station!
We need help, in the form of Federal funding, to insure that the safety of those who insure the safety of all is paramount! Let us do all we can to promote this idea.
In finishing here, I just want to say to those who ride the truck, or the ambulance, or the rescue, please be careful out there. Watch your partners back and they will do the same.
My love and my thoughts are with you all, no matter where you are, around the world; you are my Family, my Brothers and Sisters. There’s a thing we all say to each other, and it is how I will end this.
BE SAFE, TAKE CARE!
And GOD Bless us all!

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