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IF you were a Houston fireman in the early sixties, you would have had a lot to look forward to when you joined the Houston Fire Department. You would be making $330.00 per month, before deductions. You had to buy all of your own firefighting gear, with the exception of your helmet. The cost ran in excess of $150.00. You were really in for additional surprises after graduating from the Houston Fire Department Academy which was located at the time at Preston and Austin. This intersection was revered by many Houston firemen as the one intersection where they had the time of their lives; though, for others, the time couldn't have gone by fast enough. The next step was to be assigned to a station. It was at this point that you learned that, aside from the normal deductions from the city, your paycheck would decrease some more because of station dues and union dues. Station dues included costs for coffee, television, window air conditioner units, pillows, sheets, etc. By now you knew you were in for a life of fun riding fire trucks, fighting fires, and working a perpetual side job in order to exist. Even with all the monetary disadvantages, those who chose to be firemen served gallantly and with dedicated spirits to ride those fire trucks and fight fires. After arriving at your designated station, you soon learned that your body and mind were in for a very shocking realization as to what FAST meant. You were to learn how to react to the crackling of a speaker, two loud vibrating tones, followed by a location, repeated twice. Before it could be repeated twice, though, you were expected to be mounted on the fire truck, know where you were going, and be prepared to go out the door with such force that oftentimes you felt you had left something behind. Sometimes some of your buddies were left.  The fire ground attack upon your arrival was even more amazing and more fun than you had ever anticipated. Without knowing it, you had raced a rival engine company to the same location, and you both had laid the most standard piece of equipment in firefighting history, the two-and-one-half-inch, cotton-jacketed, brass-fitted hose with a straight-bore nozzle attached to the end where the water (hopefully) came out. The battle wasa on, you against the fire and elements, with the other engine company mounting its attack from the opposite direction. The fire was drentched quickly from what seemed like a water fight like none you had ever seen or been in before. Now that the fire was out, you were on all fours in the yard, coughing and spitting soot and phlegm and sometimes small particles of debris. You stood up, took a deep breath of fresh air, and removed your service belt, which weighhed appreoximately 25 pounds, if it was decorated as usual with a plug wrench, spanner key, and a gas cut-off which also served as a coupling wrench. Then as you turned around, you saw that you had stopped the fire, and you smiled again at all the fun you'd had. Having fought this fire, you wondered why no bothered to use the ONE air-pack that was assigned each engine company. Being brandnew, you asked. With all the scowling eyes turned on you, you learned that REAL firemen used the three most common air-packs of the era: a cigar (White Owl), a one-inch by two-inch sponge, or a red or white shop towel (your choice of color). So you had your choice of ways to be a leather-lung fireman. You shook your head as you remembered what fun you were having and all the camaraderie that you were a part of.
Back at the fire station, you learned about territory which you covered. This meant being able to name the streets in rotation, from North to South, and East to West, with all the fire hydrants in your territory placed at the proper intersections. Some stations even required you know the three closest hydrands to any location. You were introduced to the watch office where there was a ticker tape system across which all boxes throughout Houston were transmitted, and you definitely had to acknowledge when the speakers crackled and toned your station. The watches were two hours in the daytime until 9:00 p.m. Then you were allowed to go to your bunk and, with any luck, rest before the next fire in your district was announced. You learned, too, that keeping all of your equipment on the fire truck and the station CLEAN was Number One priority with the fire department. There was no room for dirty equipment. Once all of the equipment was cleaned, the free time you spent would include playing cards, dominos, marbles, and/or thinking up any mischievous deed which would give any one or several individuals the "pinkies," and/or just plain interrupt them from having a fun day at the firehouse. Other things that you soon learned was that Mondays were clean-up days, and Saturdays were kerosene days (the day to take your holidays). You also learned that the three work uniforms you were issued did not last if you were at a busy fire station. You were introduced to the option of swapping or trading uniforms, borrowing uniforms, buying Knapp shoes, or going to the Army Surplus stores to buy plain black shoes.  Muliple-alarm fires were even more exciting than the stories you had heard around the fire station from your counterparts. At multiple-alarm fires, you would see a menagerie of different fire trucks: Seagrave, Mack, American LaFrance, Ward LaFrance, Howe, and if you looked really close, an occasional chain-driven American LaFrance that was still being used as reserve apparatus. An average shift consisted of ten hours in the day or 14 hours in the night. At a busy fire station, it was nothing to make 12 or 14 runs on the night shift, several of them to multiple-alarm fires. The fire boxes were pulled quite frequently by pranksters who enjoyed seeing the fire trucks and men respond. You arrived most days at the fire house from working a side job. But as alarms came in, and the excitement increased, the fatique seemed to go away until it was time to go back to your side job or go home. Home was a place you had left some three to five days ago, depending on the number of hours you had worked on your side job.
You served well and carried on the tradition, a tradition that has always had a cause: to triumph over fires and natural disasters where firemen are called upon by the public. For this dedication and service, and for the traditions being carried forward, this story salutes the firemen, those who have gone before, and those dedicated men who will follow in their footsteps.
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