Of the many names I’ve been called in my life – Uncle Fred has stuck with almost everyone! When I began dating my wife, she was divorced with 2 very young children. My teenage nieces often babysat the 2 little ones. My nieces called me Uncle Fred – the kids picked it up. Since then my wife’s 3 brothers and their wives have joined the group, along with their combined 11 children – and then their 33 grandchildren – and now their 9 great-grandchildren. My friends felt outnumbered, so they joined in. The kids still call me Uncle Fred – as well as DAD! – and so do their friends and in-laws. There’s little chance I’ll forget that name – but I thought I’d better write these stories down while I can still remember!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

SHOPPING...FIREFIGHTER STYLE!




One night we had a big fire in a huge winery.  They made fruit wines.  After the fire was knocked down, we were up on the roof standing next to a large hole we had opened.  We could look down into the warehouse.  Firefighter boots have loops on each boot so you can pull them on easier.  We tied a rope between the loops and lowered the boots down to the warehouse floor.  Another firefighter filled the boots with bottles of wine.  We did this over and over.  It got to the point where we would yell down to the fireman “no more blueberry – more strawberry.”  You have to remember that the bottles had been declared contaminated by the health department and couldn’t be sold.  They were scheduled to be destroyed.  That night, all of us went home with lots of wine.  It still tasted pretty good, even if most of the label was burned off.  

Another cold, snowy night a delivery truck skidded into a bridge abutment and flipped over.  The doors split open and hundreds of boxes of Saucy Susan Shrimp Cocktail were scattered all over the road.  Once the container boxes had been split open, the contents (packed in glass jars) was no longer saleable – so we all had shrimp cocktail for weeks and weeks.

In the firehouse where I worked, there was a large Italian neighborhood in our first-due district.  One Sunday afternoon, a fire alarm came in from a 2 family house in that neighborhood.  In those days, most Italian families cooked a large pot of sauce from early morning until their big Sunday dinner later in the day.  After we put out the fire, some of the firefighters crawled through the attic looking for any fire extension.  One of the firefighters slipped off the ceiling rafter and his leg went through the sheetrock.  We didn’t know that Grandma had snuck back into the kitchen to stir her sauce.  The pieces of sheetrock went into her sauce pot.  Grandma got very upset and started beating the firefighters boot leg with a big wooden spoon and yelling, in broken English, that the firefighters were “making too much dirt.”  

One night I was called into work because there was a major snow storm predicted to hit NY.  About 3 AM, we got a call via the Police Department that there was an accident on the NY State Thruway.  An 18-wheeler hit a bridge abutment and turned over.  The police were taking the drive to the hospital.  There were so many accidents on the Thruway that night that all the nearby fire crews were out on other calls.  We were about a mile away.  They told us to close 2 lanes of the thruway, leaving one open, and wait for a commercial truck-towing vehicle to arrive.  They would try to right the tractor trailer, but, if not, a crane vehicle would be called in.  In either case, with the weather conditions as they were, it would have been hours before anyone showed up. 

As we began to secure the accident scene, we noticed that the trailer had been split open and there were frozen turkeys all over the snowy road.  Once again, food products in that situation were considered contaminated and would be destroyed.  Since they would be a major hazard to traffic once the lanes were opened, we had to remove the turkeys.  We couldn’t fit 33 turkeys safely in the fire engine (32 firefighters and one for dinner tomorrow).  One of the firefighters told me he lived nearby and had a 4-man toboggan.  I sent him home to get it and, when he returned, we loaded up the toboggan with turkeys and he and another firefighter pulled it to the firehouse.  They unloaded it and returned to fill it up again.  By then, the tow vehicle arrived, righted the truck, and that section of the Thruway was cleared.  Everyone in our firehouse had a frozen turkey in their freezer for the holidays.  

Eating or drinking something that was in a fire is really not a good idea – especially if it was open or exposed to smoke.  We had a fire in a bakery and, after the fire was out, firefighters started eating pastry that was still in the oven.  They all got food poisoning and were sick for days.  Another fire was in a butcher shop.  A firefighter took a roast beef that had been in the open case back to the firehouse and cooked it for lunch.  No one could eat it – the taste of acrid smoke made them all sick.  

After a fire is knocked down, firefighters are looking for something to drink to hydrate themselves.  Water is the best thing, but hydrant water is unsafe to drink.  The pipelines have been super-charged and the water is black and full of rust.  Opening a refrigerator that was in a smoky room and drinking milk or orange juice from an open container is also a NO-NO.  

Firefighters are a tough breed and they learn quickly!  A cold, unopened bottle of beer is usually safe to drink.  It may not taste as good as a fresh one – but it’s safe!   






Sunday, February 3, 2013

EARLY LESSONS LEARNED




There were a lot of hoops you had to jump through to get onto the Fire Department in the ‘60s.   The city wanted the cream of the crop for their department. The ACLU hadn’t gotten involved in civil service jobs as yet so the city still had very strict hiring code.  You had to be over 5’10” tall; your height and weight had to be in proportion; your vision had to be 20-20 or better; hearing perfect; a mouth full of your own teeth; and then you had to pass a battery of mental evaluations, a strenuous agility test, and a full medical exam.   
  
If you met all these requirements, you were put on a list and they would call you when they had an opening -- all for $112 a week.  My friends and some family members thought I was crazy to quit an office job paying $120 a week to go on the Fire Department.  I told them that working in an office I had to buy white shirts, ties, shoes, socks, and get a haircut every 2 weeks.  I had to work 2 years to get 1 week vacation, 5 years to get 2 weeks’ vacation, 20 years to get 3 weeks’ vacation, and work until I was 65 to get a pension. 

In the Fire Department, I would get 6 weeks’ vacation every year, 4 personal days, 10 sick days – paid in cash if not used – a dental plan, vision plan, medical plan, Fire Department doctor on call 24 hours a day at no charge, a legal assistance plan, and a 20 year ½ pay retirement plan.  Plus, the city supplied winter uniforms, summer uniforms, work clothes, as well as all protective clothing and equipment.  The only thing I had to pay for was shoes and a haircut every 6 weeks. 

After 8 weeks of firefighter training, I was sent to firehouse #11.  All new recruits were on probation for 1 year.  The city could fire you for any reason during that time period.  Once your probation was up, it was almost impossible to lose your job. 

Another “proby” and I showed up early for our first night shift at station #11.  Just as we were coming into the firehouse, the alarm went off.  Two 14” bells rang – one on the apparatus floor and one in the dormitory.  The lights came on and a ticker tape started running across the watchman’s desk.  The tape punched out a 4 digit code so the driver would know what sector of the city the alarm was coming from.  The voice of a dispatcher gave the exact location of the emergency through a large overhead speaker.   Engine 11 and Truck 3 responded.  They told us to wait for the night crew to show up. 

At about 8PM, the day crew returned and they were all happy.  Seems they had performed CPR on a young girl and saved her life.  Thirty minutes later, the Fire Chief called and told us the girl had a contagious disease and the firemen who performed CPR were ordered to the hospital for a few days to be checked out.  The other “proby” and I looked at each other wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.  

We went out on several calls that night but nothing special or exciting.  Everything calmed down around midnight and, after watching the Johnny Carson show, everyone went to bed.  The Captain told us to get some rest because at any minute we could be called out for an all-nighter.  The two of us sat watching TV until 3AM.  We had to creep into the dormitory and feel around for our beds.  We were so nervous we both laid on the bed with all our clothes on.  I leaned over and said, “I can’t believe the city is paying us to sleep.”  We both got the giggles and it took over an hour to fall asleep.  

It wasn’t all fun and games – obviously.  Most people run OUT of a burning building, not INTO it.  Even the rats and roaches are leaving – now there’s a sight you really don’t want to see! 

The other “proby” didn’t like this firehouse.  He asked for a transfer to a busier house in a rough neighborhood.  He wanted more action.  He was transferred and was promoted to Lieutenant about 8 years later.  One night, he responded to a fire in an old wooden tenement building.  Some women were outside crying that there were children trapped on the third floor.  He ran in without putting on his air tank.  He never made it out.  He left behind a wife and 2 kids.  There were no trapped children on the third floor, or anywhere else in that building.  Unfortunately, there are so many stupid, irresponsible people who are more interested in stealing TVs, stereos, boom boxes, etc. from their neighbor’s apartment than saving their own kids.  After they had stolen whatever they wanted, then they screamed for the firefighters to save their kids.  This happened time and time again. 

I once saved 3 year old twin boys who had been left in their cribs with wet and dirty diapers while the building went up in flames.  I got them out of the tenement and told the Assistant Chief what had happened.  He was a smart old guy.  He asked a group of women standing nearby who the boys belonged to.  No one said anything, so the chief just put the boys down and they ran right to their mother.  She picked them up and ran away.  That was a lesson I never forgot.