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Continued training is necessary to keep up the skills of a firefighter, and it is the responsibility of a captain to see that his men are well trained. Many firefighters did not cherish the drill sessions, nor did many of the captains. It was not unusual for firefighters to seek a transfer, if their captain was too zealous with training. After self-contained breathing apparatus (SCBA) was introduced into the fire department, one sling-type SCBA was assigned to each fire company. They were not received too well. After all, real firefighters were great "smoke-eaters." They didn't need SCBA to fight a fire. Only a wisp wore the thing. SCBA took low priority in training. Why train on something one never used? Training chiefs periodically called a company to the training academy to check the skills of the men. Training throughout the department would take a huge jump when rumor spread that the training chiefs were checking the companies. Everyone feverishly brushed up on the evolution being checked. It was always the first couple of companies that were at a disadvantage. The fire phone rang one morning at Station 4. A training chief ordered the engine to the academy. When the company arrived, the training chief asked the captain if he had trained on SCBA. "Oh yes," the captain replied, "we train all the time on air pacs." Each man was then ordered to put on the SCBA. After a prolonged search of the apparatus for the SCBA, the men took their turn. It was apparent that the first man was not trained from the look of puzzlement as he clumsily attempted to don the air pac. The second man faired no better. No. 3 man hilariously ended the training test. He donned the air cylinder fairly well, but the face piece was a different matter. He managed to don the face piece upside down. The air hose came off from the top of his head. The men rolled over laughing. One had to see it to appreciate the humor. He looked like something from outer space. Even the training chief broke out in fits of laughter. "Have you really been training?" the chief queried after gaining control. The captain turned red and stammered, "Weeeell, er, a, er, maybe we forgot to, a, train on the, er, a, air pack."
New projects come and go. Many go quite quickly. This was one of those times when a new project faded almost before the ink dried. Owners of large stores with parking lots in front were having a problem with customers parking at the curb in front of the store's entrance. They didn't want to make their customers mad by asking them to move. The owners wanted someone else to do their dirty work, so they conned the city fathers into passing a fire zone ordinance for private property. Fire prevention was given the responsibility to enforce the ordinance. Inspectors whined that they didn't have the personnel to do the job, because these huge stores were popping up all over town. They convinced the fire chief to let the district chiefs help. A training class was given each shift of district chiefs. After the last class, the chiefs were issued a book of tickets for the district. One fairly new district chief set out issuing tickets the next morning. He ran across violator after violator and ran out of tickets after only a few stores. It was before noon. When he returned to the fire station, he called fire prevention to order another book of tickets. The chief inspector who answered the phone did not seem too pleased. He gruffly asked, "You what? You wrote all the tickets already?" "Yes sir," the district chief answered. The chief inspector fired back. "If you want to be a policeman, then go join the police department." The naive district chief was astounded, but he learned a valuable lesson. Don't put too much stock in any new project of the fire department. Just sit back and wait. It will always fade away. Sooner more often than later .
Another story about the way new projects in the fire department get scuttled. A progressive fire chief put in a program for small business inspections by station captains. The program had a twofold purpose. It would increase the number of inspections and better acquaint firefighters with the layout of their commercial buildings. Fire Prevention ran the captains through training classes to prepare them for the new duty. Different fire inspectors taught the classes. The fire prevention and building codes were explained in detail. Exit widths, occupancy loads, sprinkler and standpipe requirements, merchandise storage, fire doors, waste management. The whole ball of wax. Multiple notes and figures were hastily recorded by the captains to aid them with inspections. As the class came to an end on the final day of the school, one of the chief inspectors addressed the class. He summarized the major points detailed during the school. The chief lectured for 30 minutes or more. His final words wrapping up the class were, "Just remember, you all are nothing more than trash inspectors." Those few officers who were eager to do a good job had their initiative bashed severely. The program survived only a short time.
Everyone starts their career at a fire station. Some spend their entire time in the suppression division; others go on into other divisions. Bill Hausinger chose fire alarm, and brought along the knack for trickery from the station. He wound up under chief dispatcher Earl "Shorty" Summers (who was not known to ever push away from the dinner table). Every morning precisely at 4 a.m. when on the night shift, Shorty cooked his breakfast in the old fire alarm building at 1020 Bagby. Shorty left his prized pocket knife on his desk one night when he went to the rest room. He used the knife to prepare breakfast and kept it razor sharp. Bill seized the opportunity and lined the cutting edge of the main blade with scotch tape. He neatly trimmed the tape to make it invisible. At 4 a.m., Shorty grabbed the knife and slipped into the kitchen. He began to cut open a package of bacon, but he got nowhere. The knife wouldn't slice the thin cellophane, so he grumblingly returned to his desk to hone the blade. He warned the men never to cut foam rubber with a knife, because it will dull the blade. (The day before Shorty had helped his brother cut foam rubber to make boat cushions.) It was not until he took a couple of licks on the cutting stone that he discovered what had happened. Without hesitation, he blamed Bill who, to this day, never fessed up. Conversations about food would send Shorty early to breakfast, which the dispatchers played on him every couple of weeks. They would start talking about food around three o'clock and, after a few moments, Shorty took off for the kitchen. |
