Status of the Film

02 Dec 07

I've had a great many people asking me when the film will be finished. So, here's an update on my progress thus far.

I have approximately 96% of the film shot. I still have to re-shoot one interview, get footage at Fire Alarm, finish up the Ladder segment, work on one segment about DAC Mike Day and some other filler-footage and introduction shooting to do. That, in the grand scheme of things, is only about 4% of the film.

Now, I know that I said the film would be done in the fall... which is almost over. Then I said the film would be done in the Winter, which is fast approaching. At this point in time, I am going to say that my intended time for completion of the project is late February of 2008. The problem is that it is difficult to stay on schedule when trying to work with a great many conflicting schedules. With me working a regular, 40-hour per week job and trying to jam in shooting on Fridays and Saturdays and sometimes after work during the week, it's been insane. However, I somehow managed most of it already and that in and of itself is amazing.

The largest portions of the film - those being the ride-alongs and the interviews - are now all complete (except for the re-shoot, which will take 30 minutes). Once those things are done, I can go to post-production. The good news about post is that I pretty much have the whole thing edited in my head. I've reviewed the footage on numerous occasions and now it's just a matter of cutting it together.

That's where we stand and once again, my eternal thanks to the members of the Providence Fire Department who have given so freely of themselves for this project. It's been an incredible ride. As always, my thanks to the Executive Board of Providence Firefighters' IAFF Local 799 for their unwavering support - you guys are awesome.

Shooting the Stills

02 Dec 07

Poor Doughty... the things I put that man through! LOL I wouldn't necessarily say that he's camera shy, but I know it's not fun for him to pose for stills. Luckily, he and Fran have become friends and I'm sure that made it a little easier to deal with having to endure still shots.

So I made the guy get into his turnout gear and grab his helmet so we could take still shots of him on the Hazards. I could have gone over to Ladder 6 on Friday night and shot them there, but that just did not seem right to me. The guys who ride the Hazards ARE the Hazards. It would not have been an accurate depiction of him to shoot him at Ladder 6 and when I told that to Paul, he agreed. The Hazards is his home... just like the rest of the firefighters who are assigned to the truck. Most of the people on it have been there for years - because they love it. Okie, Chris Brown... it is WHO they are, not just their assigned truck.

Fran asked me what it was that I had in mind and I explained the shots that I was looking for. Of course, she got them right away (as always). Maybe my opinion is biased, but I'm sure I've got the best damned photographer on the planet for this job! Anyway, when we were through, the rest of the A-Group crew from the Hazards came down to the apparatus floor because they were getting ready for an air bag drill (practicing using special air bags that are used to lift heavy objects that people are pinned under). As we talked a little bit with Paul, he asked Fran if she would take a picture of the group together by the Hazards. Of course she said yes and they all gathered by the chauffer's side. Fran got a great shot of them and showed it to the guys - apparently they liked it very much.

Again, this is where something unexpected happened for me. As I watched these four men standing by the side of the Hazards and posing for Fran, I saw what Paul talked about during his interview. He told me about how the guys that he rides with are his brothers - "minus the blood bond", he told me. "We talk to each other pretty much every day, we live together at the station, we go to social functions, we even fight like brothers." I was able to see the bond between these Brothers and it was a wonderful thing to bear witness to. I'm proud that my best friend and photographer, Fran, was able to capture that moment.

Just another perk to taking on this incredible task of mine... gotta love it.

Finally!!! YAY!!!

30 Nov 07

I was finally able to shoot interviews with two Providence Firefighters today that I have very much been looking forward to - Paul Doughty and Kenny "Hoppy" Hoskin. Both are dear friends and both are guys whose stories I wanted to capture. I am absolutely elated about finally having the opportunity to shoot their interviews, both of which came out great.

I always enjoy the interview process, even though it can sometimes be emotionally draining. It amazes me every time I sit down and shoot an interview. It rarely goes as I anticipate it will... which is actually a good thing. It is especially interesting for me when I interview a person with whom I have become friendly and have a lot of interaction with. I don't always talk with them about their work, but during the interviews certain questions come up and they always answer - even if it is a touchy subject. It is those times when I usually see a side of my friends that I haven't seen before. So these interviews are always an opportunity for me to learn more about my friends - not just the acquaintances I've made along the way. That's ALWAYS a wonderful thing.

I'll meet with Paul again to take some stills of him - part of the Special Hazards segment filler. It's always difficult to be able to schedule with Paul because he is also the President of Local 799, the Providence Firefighters' Union. His schedule is insane and I have no idea when he finds time to sleep, let alone meet with me.

So, my thanks to Paul and Hoppy... I'm proud to have you both in the film and proud to call you my friends.

Interviews

I would be remiss at this stage of the game if I did not thank the following people:

BC Dan Crowley
Capt. Ralph "Timebomb" DeAngelis (PFD Ret.)
Capt. Russ McDonald
Capt. Tim McDaniel
Capt. James "Doc" Potenza
Capt. Heidi Rivard
Lt. Tom Kenney
Lt. Michael Morse
Lt. Ernie Young, Jr.
FF Kevin M. Burns
FF Joseph Mellor
FF Joe Moreino
FF Jim "Okie" Okolowitcz
FF Wayne Oliveira
FF Dan Rinaldi

for sharing their stories with me for the documentary. I still have some interviews to shoot, but the footage I currently have is incredible. I know that in a few cases, it was very difficult to talk about the things that they talked about with me and I greatly appreciate each and every person's willingness to revisit things that were incredibly difficult to revisit - especially on camera.

Thanks to all!

I Am Pleased to Announce...

22 Oct 07

To my faithful readers and supporters:

First, I’d like to take a minute to thank you all for your continued support and encouragement. Your kind words and friendship are appreciated more than I can say.

Now, to my announcement.

I just had a wonderful conversation with Cindy Day, the wife of Deputy Assistant Chief Michael J. Day of the Providence Fire Department, who passed away in the line of duty last June. I will not divulge the specifics of our conversation publicly, but I am proud to announce that I have received permission from Mike’s family to go ahead with my dedication of the film.

So, it is with great pride and honor that I dedicate my film, “Everyday Heroes: A Walk Into the Fire” in loving memory to:

Deputy Assistant Chief Michael J. Day, PFD
1956 – 2006

And

Private Edward A. Conway, PFD
1896 – 1957


I had to share this and I want to make sure that this dedication is not missed in the credits of the film.

My deepest thanks to Cindy and the entire Day family for their kindness and understanding – and for allowing me to honor Mike’s memory, as well as their sacrifice.

Please remember the Day family in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.

Adventures With Tower Ladder 1

18/19 Oct 07

At five yesterday afternoon, I arrived at the Public Safety Complex on Washington Street in downtown Providence to ride with Captain Jeff Varone and the C-Group Crew of Tower Ladder 1. It was a rainy, muggy evening and I had no idea what kind of a night it would turn out to be. I was brought upstairs and led to Captain Varone’s office to wait for him. I brought my Mom’s famous brownies (which she always sends with me on ride-alongs) into the lounge area and went back to Engine 3’s office to thank Joe Plante for escorting me upstairs and to introduce myself properly. Just as I was walking back toward Ladder 1’s office, the captain walked over. We sat in his office for a little bit and discussed the project, as he was not aware of the details beforehand. Once we had all of the particulars out of the way (my usual, “just treat me as one of your firefighters, Sir… if I’m in the way, don’t hesitate to push me aside”), he brought me out to meet the other firefighters on duty.

Serendipitously, Chris Brown (of the Special Hazards Unit) and Pete Grenier (Rescue 4’s officer for last night) were both there. I was happy to meet them because Chris was involved in a high angle rescue at the Providence Performing Arts Center earlier this year and Pete filmed it. I had found Chris’ blog and read through it, then clicked on a link to the video footage of the PPAC incident, watching the full nine-minute video. I had e-mailed Pete earlier this week to ask him if he would be willing to let me use his footage in my project, which he very generously agreed to. I talked with each of them quite a bit and exchanged information with Chris so I can talk with him more about the incident.

It wasn’t very long before the bell tipped and I was on my way with Ladder 1. Captain Varone handed me a turnout coat as we were getting on the truck, headed for Kennedy Plaza for a box alarm coming from one of the bank buildings. I was sitting in the chauffer’s side jump seat with Tim Bock, Jr., a new recruit to the department. I know his father, Tim Sr., quite well, so while we were waiting to see what was going to happen with the box alarm, he and I talked a bit. Tim, Dave Skaggs and I all remained on the truck to wait for further instructions from the Captain.

The next thing I knew, Captain Varone and Al Scott had jumped back into the truck and the lights and sirens were blaring once again. I had apparently missed something! As we sped toward Point Street, I started picking up from the radio communications what was happening. There was a truck on fire near the Providence Piers… a pretty scary place for anything to be bursting into flames. The blaze was less than a half mile from the Motiva Pier, which caught fire earlier this year and took a day or more to get under control. It made national news when it happened. Once I realized what we were responding to, my heart started pounding in my chest. I was a little frightened by the prospect of being in the vicinity of gas and oil storage tanks that could blow up – but I knew that Captain Varone and the crew would keep me safe. Just before we arrived on scene, we heard the call go out over the radio that the fire had been knocked down. It was literally thirty seconds before we arrived on scene, so I was a bit disappointed, but also somewhat relieved. When we pulled up to the scene, Captain Varone called back to me from the front of L-1 asking if I wanted to get some film of the scene. I jumped at the opportunity and when I got out of the truck, I was instantly grateful that the Captain had given me a turnout coat. It was pouring rain… if I hadn’t had that coat, I would have been soaked to the bone. I felt like I had just stepped into a shower stall – the rain pounding against my head and covering my glasses, which I had to allow to slip down the bridge of my nose and look over them so I could see. I somehow managed to keep the rain from destroying my camera and got some footage of the crews checking the tanker truck that had been on fire. It was still smoking when I walked onto the lot where it was parked. Once I had my footage, I immediately went back to L-1 and tried to shake some of the water out of my hair. It was dripping down into my eyes and I was thinking to myself that I should have followed my instincts and worn a baseball cap. We left the piers and returned to Washington Street.

Just as we pulled back into quarters from that run, the bell tipped for Special Hazards. I was listening to the call, still standing on the apparatus floor by Ladder 1. Captain Varone called down to me from the staircase, asking if I wanted to “jump the Hazards” for the call to the Route 6 Interchange, where a car had flipped over onto its roof. Of course, I said yes and before I knew it, I was on the Hazards again with Chris Brown & the crew. Now… the whole way there, the guys were saying things like, “watch, they’ll be out of the car before we even get there” and “we’ll be back eating dinner inside ten minutes”. I kept telling them to quit saying that, because I’d love to have the footage!

As it turned out, when we arrived on the westbound side of the Interchange at Killingly Street, we could see the rollover on the eastbound side of the road. We took the exit and came back around – the Johnston Fire Department was already on scene, so we just scooted on by and headed back to quarters.

Shortly after dinner, the bell tipped again for Engine 3 and us to respond to Hasbro Children’s’ Hospital for a box alarm. As we headed for the scene, I began to smell something odd – like an electrical fire. Problem was, it was coming from INSIDE Ladder 1. Tim and I gave each other a look that was a mix of bewilderment and “holy crap is that our truck?” Suddenly, Al pulled the truck over and we all jumped out. In less than a minute, the toolbox was out and Captain Varone was attempting to fix the vehicle on site. He had radioed Fire Alarm to let them know that we had a problem. We spent several minutes there on the side of the road and when Captain Varone was satisfied that there was no actual fire, he called in to Fire Alarm and put us out of service for repairs. We drove (carefully!) over to Dexter Street where the PFD Repair Shop is located.

We were greeted at the repair shop by a PFD mechanic named Bo, who assessed and repaired the situation while we waited. Captain Varone was concerned that I might be bored and even apologized at one point. I told him that I was glad this had happened – now I had footage of them repairing their own truck while we were en route to an emergency call. People don’t realize that things like that can and do happen! I was completely cool with the situation. It took just over an hour, but Bo had the truck fixed and ready to go. As we were leaving, Bo called out to me from the bay of the repair shop.

“Good night ma’am – have a safe one, and don’t let these guys be too tough on you, now.” He smiled and winked at me.

“Aww, no,” I replied, “they’re always great to me.”

So, off we went – back to quarters. By then it was probably quarter to ten and I had the sinking feeling that it was going to be a quiet night. I was right.

I crashed on a sofa in the lounge and got some sleep – albeit interrupted a couple of times when the bell tipped for the Rescue and the Engine. I finally woke up at five thirty and figured it would be futile to try to sleep any more, so I sat up and grabbed a coffee. By six thirty, everyone in the house was awake and the shift change was beginning. Just around seven, the bell tipped for the Hazards and the call went out for them, Engine 12, Ladder 3 and Air Supply for a reported house fire on Douglas Avenue over near the Chad Brown housing complex. Captain Varone suggested that I could jump on the Hazards, but there really was no time to explain to the newly changed crew what I was doing and why I was doing it. It was bad enough that Engine 12 had just come over the radio and said that the house was involved, calling a “code red” (meaning they arrived to find a working fire). We listened to the radio communications for a while, and then I talked with Captain Varone about some follow up work. I finally said goodbye, thanked everyone at around seven thirty and headed out the door.

I walked to my car and something told me to get some filler footage of the Station before I left, so I put my stuff in my car, grabbed the camera and the tripod and set up across the street to get some shots. Once I got what I needed, I went back to my car and packed up so I could head home. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I looked to the left of the station and saw a plume of smoke darkening the morning sky.

Much as I hate to admit it, I got a little excited and drove toward where the smoke was, trying to locate the fire. I pulled up in front of a body shop on West Exchange Street, a mere two blocks from the Washington Street Station, to find a tow truck ablaze in the parking lot. I pulled over and dialed 911 from my cell phone to report it. The dispatcher informed me that they were already aware of it and the fire department was on their way. I shut my car off, pulled the camera back out and jumped out of my car, getting footage of the burning truck through the fence surrounding the lot. A few seconds later, I heard Engine 3’s siren and turned when I could hear the truck’s diesel engine roaring down the road. I caught the Engine arriving on scene, the crew cutting the chain that locked the fence surrounding the body shop lot and subsequently knocking down the fire. I kept rolling, catching them folding the hoses back up on the truck, opening and flushing the hydrant nearby and even the owner arriving on scene and the firefighters filling him in on what they had found. Just before I left, I called out to the guys and thanked them, followed by my “have a safe day” as my final comment.

I got into my car and headed home. As I turned onto Broadway, I flipped my cell phone open (I know! I shouldn’t talk and drive…) and dialed the Washington Street firehouse, asking for Captain Varone.

“Erin? Yes, this is Jeff. What’s up?”

“Cap,” I replied, “I just wanted to let you know that all was not lost on my ride along. That vehicle fire that the threes just got called out to? I arrived on scene before them and filmed the whole thing, start to finish!”

“Oh, that’s great!”

We talked a little more and I thanked him again, gave him the “stay safe” and we disconnected. I smiled as I tucked my phone back into my pocket, grateful for the opportunity to have ridden with such a great crew and such a wonderful officer.

As I drove home, it started to hit me that this was probably my last ride along. I still have some more shooting to do – interviews, fire alarm, follow up ladder footage… but this was probably my last night of “jumping the trucks”, as Captain Varone said. My eyes filled up. I guess my time of playing pseudo-firefighter has come to an end. I’ll miss that more than I could ever express in words.

Tired as I was, I still had an interview to shoot. A few hours later, I was driving to South County to interview Lt. Ernie Young, Jr., a very dear friend and the D-Group officer on Engine 8, who has been off injured for a few months now. I talked with him for quite a while, visiting and catching up with each other, then finally shooting a bit with him talking about how he was injured quite badly last summer during a fire.

Now, it’s twenty-five hours since I went to Washington Street and I actually find myself feeling sad. I had spent the day on a real high, talking about how great it was to catch that fire and how weird it was that my gut just kept telling me to hang around. All I can seem to think of now is that my ride alongs are done. It’s a bittersweet moment – I’ve done so much work, ridden with two Engine companies, two Rescue companies, Special Hazards and a Ladder company, but every single second of it has been great for me. Just to have the opportunity to ride on each of the trucks and learn about the importance of each company was wonderful for me. I wish I could keep on riding with these amazing men and women. Time for me to play filmmaker, now.

15 Oct '07 - Riding With Special Hazards... AAAARRRRGGHHHH!!!!

The AAAARRRGGHHH!!! is not meant for the crew that I rode with last night on the Special Hazards Unit of the Providence Fire Department – not by any means. They are wonderful guys and were very good to me, as always. So were the rest of the folks at Washington Street last night. I enjoy their company and they always treat me like family.

However… when I arrived at the firehouse yesterday afternoon, I was told that I missed not one, but TWO fires – one on Sunday night and one on Monday during the day. “They come in threes”, one of the guys said. This is true… and I prayed a LOT that I would be there for the third.

We got a run around 6:30 pm to go to the Olneyville section of the City for a possible natural gas leak situation. I got some great shots there and the footage shows how multiple companies work together in a situation such as this to make sure that people are safe and the scene is quickly controlled, investigated and the situation corrected. There were several companies involved in the call… Special Hazards, Engine 14, Tower Ladder 1, Ladder 6 and I believe Ladder 2 was also there, but it was tough to see all of the vehicles and stay out of the way at the same time. Once someone from National Grid arrived on scene to locate the gas leak, it was only a matter of ten or fifteen minutes before we were all dismissed and headed back to quarters.

We only got two other calls – one to a possible fire at the Hartford Projects… my heart nearly jumping out of my chest all the way there, only to find that it was nothing; then to a location over near Admiral Street for a “still box alarm” (which means a reported fire) which we got turned back from. That ended up being a police matter, for some reason that I never really ascertained.

So, when morning came and I sat and had a coffee with my friend, Okie, before heading home, we made arrangements for me to go back tonight and film a sort of “tour” of the Special Hazards Unit. When I arrived back at the station this evening, the first thing Okie said was that they had caught a fire during the day and the Hazards was “first in” – meaning the first company to arrive on the scene. He says that never happens. Of course it doesn’t! It would only happen when I’m JUST MISSING IT!

I was convinced, at that point, that my Grampa was looking down on me and chuckling! As if missing the THIRD fire wasn’t bad enough, as I stood talking with Okie while Fran took stills of the Hazards for me, the bell tipped. Of course the bell tipped – because I wasn’t RIDING WITH THEM!!! Another gas leak situation. So, rather than trying to get this all set up again, we waited for the Hazards to return. At one point, Fran and I were the only people left in the station. Every single truck in the house was out. My brain was hurting by that point and frustration was beginning to get to me.

So, the Hazards returned and I filmed my bit with Okie. As I filmed with him and saw all of the equipment that this Heavy Rescue Vehicle carries, I began to see things in a different light. I got the footage I needed and Fran took some more stills for me. We said goodnight to Okie and off we went.

When I got home tonight I visited Michael Morse’s blog and clicked on a link to the blog of another Providence Firefighter, Chris Brown. Chris is also on the Hazards. I read an entry that he wrote about a man who had been electrocuted. That was it… my “different light” had settled in and I was viewing my quiet night with the Hazards as a blessing. It dawned on me, between filming with Okie and reading Chris’s blog that I could easily have seen things last night that I would never, ever be able to handle.

All firefighters see, smell and deal with scenes that would steal an everyday person’s sanity in the blink of an eye. It is difficult to wrap your head around that until you ride on these trucks and talk to these people. I learned something tonight, too. “Special Hazards” is not really an appropriate name for that unit. Yes, the Hazards deals with things like chemical spills, gas leaks, anthrax scares and the like. In all actuality, the Special Hazards Unit is a Heavy Rescue Unit. That means they repel down the sides of Providence’s skyscrapers if a window washer’s platform gets stuck too high up for a ladder truck to reach. If someone is preparing to commit suicide by jumping from a bridge or an overpass in the City, the Hazards gets called. If someone gets fried by a downed high voltage wire, the Hazards goes in with special tools to make sure that the person’s body is safe for firefighters to handle and isn’t surging with electricity.

I’ll admit it… there are some things that I just do not want to see. So thanks, Grampa… for busting my chops and keeping me away from that stuff.

Once again, I have an entirely new understanding of and respect for the members of the Special Hazards Unit… those Heavy Rescue kids are pretty incredible.

I know this has nothing to do with the documentary, but Michael is a very dear friend and as you've read, I had the honor and privilege of riding with him and Ray Thibault a couple of Saturdays ago.

The photograph to the left was taken by me earlier this year at Chester Barrows Elementary School in Cranston, RI. The man in the foreground is Lt. Michael Morse. The man in the background is his brother, SFC Robert Morse of the RI National Guard's 1207th Transportation Company. A little background on why they were at the school... My Mom, Pat Blackman, is known as "Grandma Muggle" to several classes at three different Cranston elementary schools. She started out about six years ago visiting my niece, Amberlee's class at Chester Barrows to read to the class. The teachers fell in love with her, as did the kids and it turned into what is now known as the "Grandma Muggle Club". The kids have done numerous service projects, including making place cards for the food trays at the Veterans' Hospital, donating to the "Put Your Two-Cents' Worth In" campaign which has raised money for various charity events and they have also adopted RI soldiers serving in Iraq, sending them letters and care packages. Robert Morse was "adopted" by the Grandma Muggle Club. When he came home on an "R & R" leave, he only had two weeks to spend with his wife, kids and family. He took an entire afternoon out of that time and he and Michael visited the kids at Chester Barrows Elementary School. Not only did he do that, but he also schleped home two Muslim prayer rugs that he had made for the kids, which had the logo of the 1207th and the name of the school in English and Arabic, as well as certificates from the commander of the 1207th officially thanking the kids for their support. The kids were fascinated with both Robert and Michael - asking all kinds of questions about Iraq and the fire department. I skulked around the classrooms while Robert talked to the kids and as I was photographing the event, I noticed something. Every time Robert mentioned returning to Iraq, Michael would suddenly look absolutely forlorn. The kids didn't notice - in fact, I'm sure I was the only one who did. I decided to try to capture that image... the love of brothers - never really spoken, but always there.

I caught this image after several tries. It had gotten to the point where Michael was pretty much ignoring the fact that I was shooting at all. Knowing Michael, he probably assumed that I was taking a picture of Robert. But I got the image and I'm so glad that I did, because Robert is home now - safe and home. Thank God for that. I look forward to having a chance someday to take another photograph of them, simply enjoying each other's company and content in the fact that they've each endured so much in their own right, but survived.

I am honored to know such wonderful men... men who lay their lives on the line for the protection of others. Selflessly dedicated, loyal, kindhearted... that is what I see in "The Morse Boys".

See? Everybody Gets Their Fifteen Minutes

<--- photo taken at Chester Barrows Elementary School - June, 2007 by Erin L. Blackman (Handsome bugger, isn't he?) :-D

It gives me GREAT pleasure to post this piece. The following article appeared in today's Providence Sunday Journal about Lt. Michael Morse and his book, "Rescuing Providence", which I am very much looking forward to reading. I am so excited for Michael and so proud to call him "friend". Congratulations, Michael.

Bob Kerr: The story of the city with feeling

01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, September 16, 2007

I don’t like lying to people who I know will be dead in minutes because it doesn’t seem fair. It’s hypnotic in the back of a rescue when the fight for life is lost and resignation appears in the victims’ faces. I tell them to hang on, to keep fighting, but they know the truth. I can see it in their eyes. I am the last thing they see before leaving this earth forever.
— Lt. Michael Morse in Rescuing Providence



Many of us try to peel back the cover on the city now and then — look into those seldom-seen places where people do crazy, mean, loving, funny, desperate things. But Michael Morse does it again and again and again. There are times when he might want a break from it, maybe a whole hour to put his head back and not deal with all that injury and pain and assorted madness.

But then comes the call: “Rescue 3 and Engine 12, respond to Hawkins and Admiral for a reported shooting.”

And he is off again, into the rescue wagon and off to another human pileup in Providence — and another chance to see the city with a writer’s eyes.

Morse has been an emergency medical technician (EMT) and firefighter in Providence for 16 years. He is one of those people, like most who work at firehouses, who are hooked on the job. Despite the falling-down fatigue that comes with call after call, he would have it no other way.

He has been a writer for a lot of years too. It is tough to say just when that part of him kicked in. He remembers his days at Bishop Hendricken High School, where he did not light up the honor roll. But he got that B in English once. There were some early indications that he could do things with the language.

And he has. He’s written a book, and it’s so damn good that I can’t stand this guy. I mean, just where does he get off climbing out of a rescue wagon and writing with this kind of feeling and pace and vivid recollection?

It’s called Rescuing Providence, and it covers one 34-hour shift around Easter weekend of 2004.

“I was driving to work one day and just decided to write a book about this,” he told me.

He started taking notes. He would finish a call and write down the most memorable details. When he got home, he typed up the notes.

“I would live it, then relive it.”

Sometimes, he says, he would remember something a couple of days later and think, “that was interesting.” And he would write it down.

He has been published before, in Rhode Island Monthly and on the editorial pages of The Providence Journal. He wrote a wonderful piece about the challenges EMTs face when removing drunks from city streets.

When he finished his book, he says, he sat back and waited for the publishers to knock down his door. Instead, they sent rejection slips. Morse’s wife, Cheryl, says there really were enough rejection slips to paper a good part of a room in their house in Warwick.

Then came the day when Morse was mowing the lawn and Cheryl came out to tell him that the call had come from his agent: A publisher had picked up Rescuing Providence.

It will be officially released in a few weeks by Paladin Press. Morse isn’t sure how much promotion he’ll do. This is all very new to him.

But buy this book, and not just because it is drawn from the streets of Providence. Buy it because it gives us all the chance to go to the places and meet the people that we too quickly pass by. Buy it for the opportunity to know the incredible things that happen when a stranger from the Fire Department shows up to sew people up and calm people down and sometimes deal with the mean and dangerous side of the city.

There was the time Morse was called to the scene of a stabbing after a street brawl. As he approached the injured man, he was told by another man, “If he dies, you die.”

“You stupid bastard,” I told him, focused on the patient and annoyed at the interruption. “Your friend is bleeding to death and you have to bust my balls. Get out of the way, or your friend will die on those steps.”

What makes Morse’s book such a pleasure to read is not just the accounts of the rescue calls but the way he blends in the memories of the way the city used to be and his life with Cheryl and their two daughters and the special connection that develops with the people who work alongside him. He tells of going food shopping with his grandmother on Federal Hill. And he tells of dealing with the changes that had to be made when Cheryl discovered she had multiple sclerosis.

Then, late in the book, is the reminder that on any call, an EMT can face the worst kind of human tragedy. Morse was working out of the Branch Avenue station when a fire call came in. A mother had left two babies with a babysitter and gone out for a drink. The babysitter left the babies because she wanted to have some fun and assumed the babies were asleep. Both babies were burned to death.

Morse recalls he was in the station the next day, blaming himself for the disaster and saying, “I’ll never wish for another fire.” Chief Ronny Moura, whom he describes as a “grizzled veteran firefighter and all-around tough guy,” overheard him.
“Kid,” says Moura, “any firefighter worth half a sh— wants fires. Quit crying and get off the cross. We need the wood.”
And so it goes for those who do the work that EMTs and firefighters do. No one on the outside can possibly understand.
But we can read Rescuing Providence and get a rich and varied taste of it.

“I hope people feel what I feel,” says Morse. “I hope they come away with a better understanding of our profession.”

A reader of this truly fine book will surely do that.

bkerr@projo.com

Rescue 1 – Mundane to Amazing

Saturday, 15 September '07

So, I dragged myself out of bed at quarter to five this morning and got ready to ride along with Lt. Michael Morse and FF Ray Thibault on Rescue 1, which is housed on Allens Avenue. I say I dragged myself out of bed – but that really isn’t true. I was excited to be riding with Michael. We had talked about it several times, then as I stated in my last blog, he was injured, so it had to be postponed. We finally had our day, though – and what a day it was. Got to see a bunch of guys I hadn't seen in a while and others I'd seen only last week, but it was quite nice to see all of them.

I arrived at the station at seven this morning, just about the same time as Michael. It was quiet for the first couple of hours, but as per usual, the boys at the station did their morning cleaning. The weather was gross – rainy and depressing, but I was looking forward to the sun coming out in the afternoon. That was what they were claiming on the news, anyway.

We got a call to assist a young man who was having some sort of blood pressure issue, turned out he hadn’t taken his medication today - a “taxi ride”, essentially, to RI Hospital. Our next call was to the scene of a motor vehicle accident on Elmwood Avenue. One of the parties involved was extremely disoriented and it was thought he might have a head injury. Turned out that the man is a regular customer at Borders, where I work. That was somewhat odd. We brought him to RIH to get checked out because he was exhibiting signs of a TIA. We had a couple of calls for pregnant women with abdominal pains, but no babies born on the rescue today – another call for a woman with low blood sugar.

It was fairly quiet after that, until we got a call to Pine Street for a man with a head injury. When we arrived on scene, Engine 3 was already there. I knew two of the people on the Engine – FF Donna Luce and FF Vinny Clemens; the other two guys were fresh out of the academy. There was a palpable difference with this call. Things happen so fast on these runs that I barely know what’s happening until it’s all over. This time, though, there was an extreme sense of urgency. Turns out the guy that we were picking up had fallen down a narrow, cement staircase in the basement of a house. He was unresponsive, but still breathing. When the team brought him out and placed him onto the gurney, I could see that the guy was completely out of it. His arm was falling off the backboard – they had to keep laying it over his stomach. They got him to the rig, got the gurney in and Michael, Ray, Donna and one of the new guys all got into the back of the rescue. I hopped into the front seat to film through the opening. The scene was incredible to me – no one said much, they just each did their job. Ray got the vitals, Donna set up an IV and Ray started the line, Donna got the guy’s blood sugar level, Michael took down all of the information and tried to get the guy’s friend to give some information. He wasn’t much help, so finally Michael gave the patient’s cell phone to the friend and told him to look for a home number. He apparently found it and called the patient’s wife. I filmed as this was happening and it was truly a remarkable sight. Each firefighter did their job and Michael clearly led the team through the whole run.

That having been said let me digress and tell you a little bit about Michael. He is a very laid-back kind of person and does not consider himself to be a “leader” – and maybe he isn’t, in the traditional “barking orders” sense of the word. He just knows what he’s doing and he is probably one of the best EMTs on the job, so people just naturally look to him for guidance. At least that is what I witnessed today.

Now, back to the patient with the head injury – a forty-seven or forty-eight year old male, pupils dilated, unresponsive and (as Michael said) a “cracked melon”. The team had to take every precaution – apparently, they were made aware of the fact that the patient was intoxicated. They did not know whether he had taken any drugs or had a seizure – no idea what had caused the fall. They tried administering a drug that is used on people who have overdosed on illegal drugs to counteract the overdose. If the man responded to the drug, then they would know that he had overdosed. If not, then it was something far more serious. Unfortunately, the man did not respond to the medication. As a precaution, Michael decided to keep two other firefighters in the back of the Rescue with him. Quite often, when a patient has overdosed or been the victim of a head injury, they can awaken and become extremely violent. In a case such as that, they will have other firefighters remain onboard the rescue. This is another reason why an Engine company is dispatched to all Rescue calls. Ray Thibault and Vinny Clemens stayed in the back of the rig with Michael while we transported the patient to RIH. One of the new guys from Engine 3 drove Rescue 1 and Donna and the other new recruit took Engine 3 to the hospital. The patient was brought to the hospital and the whole time we were en route, the patient’s cell phone was ringing.

All I could think was that his wife must not have answered when the friend called her. She was probably trying to call him back.

After he was brought into the ER at RIH, the crew from Engine 3 headed back to quarters and a while after that, Michael and Ray came back out. Michael was telling me what was happening. In the space of less than twenty minutes, Engine 3 had arrived on scene and begun treatment. Rescue 1 arrived and everyone pitched in to get the guy stabilized and rushed to the ER. The ER immediately brought him to the Trauma Unit and the Trauma Team had him intubated and were evaluating him for further treatment.

We arrived back at the station a short time later and I was actually getting ready to leave when we caught another call. There was a woman suffering from complications of diabetes. She had already lost a couple of toes and would probably lose another. We got her to the ER – it was probably less than an hour since we had picked up the guy on Pine Street and Michael emerged from the ER and told me that he was in surgery. They believed that he had a bleed in his brain.

I witnessed something truly remarkable today – the Providence Fire Department’s amazing teamwork. I feel very privileged to have been party to that sight. I feel badly for the patient and his family and I do hope that he recovers and will be all right. His chances of that are much, much higher because of the speed and precision of the work done by the men and women of the PFD.

As amazing as that was, it was just as amazing to me that Michael really doesn’t realize what he and his Brothers and Sisters really do. I showed him part of the film footage from that run and he was amazed, himself. He sat watching it and saying, “wow” through it. He’s so focused on his own duties and has faith in what his fellow firefighters are doing that he has never had the chance to see just how incredibly impressive it really is.

So I also had the privilege of showing one of my Everyday Heroes just why it is that I call him that. With any luck, the others will also see just how incredible their job really is – and so will my audience when this is all said and done. I got something else out of it, too - again, that sense of having been adopted. "Hey, Erin, can you grab that glucometer for me? Thanks." "Hey, would you mind helping us transfer her to the hospital's gurney?" (That was answered with a, "sorry, Cap, I'm not on the job - I'll get Ray for you.") I even saved a c-collar from blowing away in the wind, hauled a bag back to the Rescue, held doors, closed compartments... stupid, maybe, but it was very telling to me. I'm trusted - and that means more than I could ever express in words. I'm proud - VERY proud - to feel that from these people. So thanks for that, Michael and Ray... you made me feel like one of your own.

Michael got a call back – he will be working tonight, as well as tomorrow’s day shift. Who knows if he’ll see home tomorrow evening? The beat goes on, people… never ending – twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Just when you think it’s gonna be all taxi rides and drunks, someone who truly needs you comes along – and you’re THERE for them; on your game, go team go – Bless them all.

My eternal thanks to all who participated today, especially Michael and Ray for dealing with the third wheel. Hope I stayed out of the way… and maybe showed you just how special you really are.

Everybody Gets Their Fifteen Minutes Of Fame...

even when it isn't really wanted. Having a background in journalism, albeit an amateur one, I do understand what the "real" story is. For a journalist, the real story here is about a woman who, although she has no ties to any fire department and nothing to gain from her efforts, is taking on the task of shooting a documentary about the job of firefighting... blah, blah, blah.

It's funny - I look at my work the same way that firefighters look at their work - I'm just doing my job. It's nothing spectacular, nothing to make such a big deal about. I just got pissed off that no one really understands what firefighters do and all that their job encompasses. I got mad at people saying stupid crap like, "oh, they have it easy... four days on, four days off, hanging around the station..."

NO!!!! That is NOT what really goes on!!!

There is serious ABUSE of the 911 system in MANY cities and towns. People treat it like a taxi service. "I have a hangnail and it's killing me. Take me to the hospital. Yeah, I know it's three o'clock in the morning, but still..." It's maddening. So, rather than sitting here and just kevetching about it being maddening, I decided to DO something about it.

I'm not impressive because I decided to do this. I'm just a person who understands what firefighters deal with and I think that everyone should understand it and respect it.

So, the fact that Rita Lussier of the Providence Journal and Laurie Johnson of the Warwick Beacon and Johnston Sunrise wanted to write about the project, I thought, "cool - people will know about it and start looking for it on television. The more, the merrier." Then I had the interviews with them and by their questions, it dawned on me that their story was about me, not the project.

Do I refuse? No - because despite the fact that I feel totally weird about having these people ask me so many questions about myself and why I'm doing this, I know that it's still bringing attention to the project itself. If people know, they'll look for it. It's a catch 22, really.

It's bizarre - this is about my Everyday Heroes. It's not about me. It's about getting people to understand and respect firefighters. It's about telling their story and making people realize that it's not just firefighting that they do. The training, the rescue calls, the extracations, the cooking, the cleaning, the having to buy new appliances and mattresses that the Cities don't provide... it's about the mundane stuff and the fact that every single time the bell tips, God only knows what's going to happen. They could get hurt just driving to or from a call. Poorly maintained vehicles could cause accidents. It's about learning to appreciate the fact that we have these people, willing to risk their lives for us at any given moment.

It's about my firefighters, NOT me.

Having said that, I feel these pieces should be added to my blog. After all, it is a chronicle of what's been happening while I'm shooting the film.

Where There’s Fire, There’s a Hard-working Bunch
05/23/2007 - by Rita Lussier

After working all day at Borders bookstore in Garden City, Cranston, Erin Blackman will be up all night riding along on Engine 8 in Providence. There might be an accident or a fire, a domestic dispute or an explosion. Maybe even all of the above. There’s just no way to know.

Several years ago, when firefighters couldn’t agree on a contract with the City of Providence (they still haven’t — the standoff is at day 1,049), Erin was surprised at how many people didn’t really understand the job they do day in and day out. There is a misperception, she says, that firefighters just sit around the station playing cards and watching TV, waiting for the bell to ring.

And then it hit her. She has a digital video camera. She has friends at television stations. “What am I doing just sitting here?”

Well, Erin is no longer just sitting here, there or anywhere. When she’s not working, she’s riding along on fire trucks, spending time in fire stations, interviewing firefighters and putting it all together in a documentary that’s currently titled: Everyday Heroes: A Walk Into the Fire.

She wants to make this point very clear. The film she’s working on is not political in any way. As Erin told me, you understand what she does at the bookstore because you buy books there. You understand what a bank teller does because you go into the bank to cash checks and make deposits. But unless your house goes up in flames, you really don’t have any firsthand knowledge of a firefighter’s job.

Well, if Erin has anything to say about it, you soon will.

At first blush, it’s surprising that a 35-year-old woman who lives in Johnston would want to spend her spare time this way. But truth to tell, if fate hadn’t thrown her a curve ball, Erin might have become a firefighter herself.

From what she tells me, the calling runs in her family. Her grandfather, Edward Conway, was a firefighter in Providence for 30 years until he fell off a fire truck and landed in the middle of Branch Avenue. If Erin hadn’t suffered a bad accident when she was 16 that left her with an injured back, she might have followed his example.

But if there are any lingering regrets about the obstacles life has thrown her way, they’re now gone. The documentary project has given her the chance to not only experience the life she once dreamed about, but also to put her perspective as a lay person to good use. What she sees for the first time through the camera and how she relates that in her film will help those of us who are unfamiliar with the firefighter’s job to view it in a new light.

As often happens when things are meant to be, the pieces fell quickly into place for Erin. The Providence Fire Department granted permission for filming, and she’s received a lot of assistance from Providence firefighter Jay Fabrizio, whom she credits as co-creator. In addition, she’s relying on the talents of Fran Paliotta for still photography, Brian Bucacci for editing and Michael R. Shipp for music, to get the documentary ready to air by next fall.

What has surprised Erin the most about her adventure so far is the “sheer level of exhaustion that occurs from the adrenaline rush you experience when the bell tips. You have to jump and fly – get yourself to the truck as fast as possible and head out to the scene. When you go through that five, six, twelve times in a ten- or twelve-hour period, it takes a toll on your body.”

Although she never expected to gain anything for herself out of doing this, Erin tells me she already has. The way the firefighters have welcomed her into their circle, she says, has given her “an incredible sense of belonging, protection and kinship that I’ve never found with any other group.”

It’s the kind of camaraderie that must come along with a job where at any given moment you might have to take A Walk Into the Fire. I can’t imagine how that feels but, thanks to Erin, next fall I will. We all will.

For the Moment
Rita Lussier



A World in Which Every Workday Risks Life and Limb
By LAURIE JOHNSON

Carol Channing had it all wrong.

Firemen, not diamonds, are a girl’s best friend, according to Erin Blackman of Johnston, who’s currently filming a documentary on firefighters.

“The general public is not aware of all they do,” said Blackman, “so I picked up a video camera to prove it.”

The working title of Blackman’s project is “Everyday Heroes: A Walk Into the Fire.”

She started filming last November and hopes to complete the 60-minute tribute by early this winter. Blackman’s friend, Fran Paliotta of Fran Paliotta Photography in Johnston, is helping in the effort by offering cutting-edge still shots of Blackman’s subjects.

“It’s strictly a labor of love; I’m not getting paid for it,” said Blackman, who at age 36 wistfully recalls her dream of becoming a firefighter. Injuries from a car accident at age 16 forced her to look in other directions. She finds it ironic that her grandfather, Edward Conway, was forced to retire after 20 years on the Providence Fire Department when he fell off the back of a fire truck and injured his back in 1951.

The lion’s share of Blackman’s work to date has been done with the Providence Fire Department. Blackman totes a camera on ride-alongs onboard engines and rescue trucks. She signs a waiver each time, renouncing all rights to sue in case of an injury. The fire and rescue runs Blackman has documented have been fairly routine ones. She plans other ride-alongs including one with a ladder company. There will also be stints at the fire dispatch desk and with fire-prevention officers, who investigate the cause of a blaze.

Blackman said she treasures her time spent with Providence’s Engine Company 8, housed on Messer Street, whose members went out of their way to make her feel like one of them, she says. She learned that when firefighters assess a scene, it goes far beyond the rescue call.

“These firemen really know their neighborhood,” said Blackman enthusiastically.

During her ride-along, the firefighters would point out landmarks around a fire scene plus name the kids watching near the trucks while the firemen worked. There was even an elderly woman who brought the firemen cookies.

Another of Blackman’s experiences came courtesy of the Johnston Fire Department. The controlled burn of a house on
Peck Hill Road earlier this year made for some very fiery scenes for Blackman’s documentary.

Johnston firefighter Paul Brazenor recalls Blackman’s enthusiasm that day.

“She caught a nice little blast of heat when one of the walls of the house came down,” he said.

Blackman filmed as firefighters set up a water curtain to protect nearby houses and woods.

Brazenor, 36, is a school chum of Blackman’s. Both attended the Oliver Hazard Perry Middle School in Johnston. When the opportunity came along, Brazenor, who still lives in Johnston, was only too glad to let Blackman do some filming. He wishes there were more people like Erin who understood the pressures that firefighters face.

“Yes, we do feel unappreciated, especially in light of what town councilors have been saying about us,” said Brazenor, referencing recent news reports about the department’s expensive overtime budget. Johnston firefighters have been working without a contract since 2004.

“Because of overtime, we do have some guys making over a $100,000 a year,” he said. “Sure it’s good money, but people forget we are working [extra] to earn it and that means time away from our families.”

“Just because we have beds at the firehouse doesn’t mean we sleep at night. The calls can and do come anytime,” Brazenor added.

“The sheer exhaustion your body deals with is incredible,” Blackman said with a sigh, talking about one-on-one interviews with individual firefighters – scenes she refers to as intense.

She marvels as subject after subject responds with the perfunctory, “it’s my job,” when asked how they have the courage to enter a burning building.

“I don’t think we are heroes,” said Brazenor stiffly, but then with warm pride noted the accomplishments of his late uncle, Cpt. Robert Tessier, who retired from the Providence Fire Department after a 20-year career.

“You know, it isn’t always fire that turns out to be the most dangerous part of the job,” said Blackman. “There’s stress and exposure to chemicals. On the rescue trucks, there’s the constant worry about needle sticks, airborne diseases and TB.”

That’s why Brazenor, who’s in his 12th year fighting fires in Johnston, calls it a slap in the face for firefighters to have to pay for health insurance.

“The fact is we risk our lives every day on the job,” he said.

Blackman, a longtime firefighting advocate, hopes her work will lead to more respect for firefighters and better working conditions for them so, in her own words, “these insane lack-of-contract issues will stop.” Channel 36 has already offered to work with Blackman to bring her project to fruition.

I HATE It When They Get Hurt...

Thursday, 23 Aug 2007

I was supposed to be riding with Lt. Michael Morse on Rescue 1 tomorrow night, Friday, 24 August. It was a rather cool week, nasty weather and Friday is supposed to be the first hot day of the week. Surely the night will be chaotic with people trying to salvage their last few days of summer.

But…

One of the most difficult things about having friends who are firefighters is the frequency with which they get injured. It’s horrible when I watch the news sometimes… “Fire in Providence today… two firefighters taken to the hospital with injuries… no word on their condition…” It can be terrifying – especially when I break out the cell phone and start dialing any of the sixty some-odd numbers I’ve stored in there of members of the PFD and no one is answering. It’s bad enough to me to know that any of “My Firefighters” has been hurt, but the fright can turn to panic when I find out that the company involved in the incident is filled with my close personal friends.

On that note… let’s get back to the “but”… My cell phone starts to vibrate, but I’m working at the bookstore and we’ve got a ridiculous line filled with parents and their teenage kids. Ninety percent of those kids are being reprimanded by the parents because they have waited (AGAIN!!!) until the very last second to complete their summer reading. Obviously, I can’t answer my phone. A short time later, I’m able to take my afternoon break – ten minutes without listening to, “when the hell are you going to stop doing this, Little Timmy?” I take my cell phone from my pocket and look at the screen – it was Michael who had called and he’s left me a voice mail message. I dial in to my voice mail and listen.

“Hey, Erin, it’s Michael Morse. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news – well, not bad news, really, but, well… I hurt my back during my shift today…” I wasn’t quite as panicked as I sometimes feel, because it was Michael, himself, telling me that he got hurt. We’ll have to set up another time for a ride along and he’s telling me that he feels awful about it. About that time I felt I'd rather be listening to Timmy's mom yelling at him for not having read "Of Mice and Men" yet.

I return his call… getting his voice mail. “Michael, it’s Erin. No worries about the ride along – I’m not concerned about the filming. I’m worried about you. I hope that you’re relatively okay. Give me a call and let me know how you’re doing. We’ll set up another time – I still want to film with you. Just please take care of yourself.”

My sister calls me an “empath” – says that I worry too much most of the time. I can’t say that she’s wrong. My best friend has been telling me the same thing for the last twenty-nine years. I just can’t help it, though – it’s who I am and what I am. When I call someone “friend”, I MEAN it. I worry for them, I feel their pain, I keep them in my thoughts and prayers.

My firefighters, though… man, that can be rough. Every time I hear a siren (and yes, I CAN tell the difference between a police siren and a fire siren, though I worry for all of them) I say, “keep them safe”. Even if I’m just rolling down the road and I see a fire engine, “keep them safe”. These people lay their lives on the line every single time they get on the truck and roll to a call. Just look at what happened with Ladder 6! Crazy drivers trying to cut off fire trucks in their little Toyota Corollas. Oy, they drive me nuts.

THIS is the very thing that has compelled me to do this – to take on this massive project that sometimes overwhelms me. It’s WORTH the work… because THEY are worth the work.

Be well & stay safe, everyone. I love you, my friends – and I MEAN that. Oh, and please do get well soon, Michael. Looking forward to rolling with a PFD Legend. :-)

The Interviews – Parts 1 & 2

Friday, July 13, 2007 and Saturday, July 14, 2007

The Interviews – Parts 1 & 2

Friday morning I began filming interviews for the documentary. Some of the eight people that I filmed are good friends, others I’ve met once or twice, but all of them were fascinating to me, for different reasons. I somehow managed in a single day to span a wide spectrum of people. Some talked of wonderful moments and tragic moments, some got misty-eyed, some made me cry, but mainly it was an incredible study in human behavior. Some people just walk out of the station and leave the emotional baggage there; others take their experiences and integrate them into their everyday lives as lessons learned. There are some who go out and participate in sports to drive out the emotions, some who write it down and others still who simply talk it out with their fellow firefighters and go on from there.

It was amazing to me to learn of just some of the experiences that these people have lived through and they have managed to stay sane and move ahead. They truly are a unique breed of people – despite the fact that each of them is an individual and they are each different from the other, I found that there is a standard… they all love the job. They don’t seem to mind laying their lives on the line for total strangers. In all honesty, they really don’t seem to look at it that way – “I’m just doing my job,” they say.

Well, that may be true, but I’m still of the opinion that firefighters are Everyday Heroes. I don’t mean to offend any of those who took the time to talk with me, because some said that they actually do not like to be called heroes. I simply cannot think of any other way to put it – except maybe…

Everyday Extraordinary People.

Knowing When You've Made Friends

14 Jun '07 - Providence City Hall

Last night, my best friend and business partner, Fran Paliotta, took part in a Gallery Reception at City Hall in Providence. She was invited to hang two prints in the second floor atrium there by her high school classmate and friend, Rob Buco. This was a very important night for them both and even though Fran viewed it more as helping her friend, I viewed it as a night to get some outside interest going in her work as a photographer.

After almost thirty years of friendship, I'm not afraid to say that I am heartily proud of my best friend - the one friend in my life who has always been there for me through everything - good, bad or indifferent. She worked very hard to get through her photography schooling and even had a brush with death at Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital during a bout of pneumonia. I know how hard she worked for this and I know that she deserves to have her work out there, so that Gallery Reception was more important to me than I could possibly put into words.

I let my friends from the PFD know about it and although I knew that many would be there in spirit, I really didn't expect them to be able to show up. Especially considering the frequency of callbacks and such. It's the nature of the job. However...

Five members of the Department visited us and I received notes from many more wishing us well and asking how it went. As busy as these guys are, they took time out to show that they are truly there for not only me, but Fran, as well.

A truly loyal group, to say the least - and it only proves that I've been right all along... I've made some fantastic friends getting into this project.

That, in and of itself, makes the work all worth while.

Filming the Incidentals

May, 2007

I shot two sessions this month, both at the North Main Street Station with the crews of Ladder 4, Engine 7 and Rescue 5 (mainly with the Ladder and Engine Crews). Now, I probably have the firefighters thinking I'm out of my tree, because I was filming them cleaning the station, shopping for food and cooking dinner. The sad fact is that most people don't realize that firefighters do have to do these things - AT WORK, not just in their own homes.

It baffles me - is it just that I heard the stories from my Mom and have visted the stations? Why do people think that there are janitors (OH! Excuse me... Maintenance Engineers.) at fire stations? Do they think that people come in and clean and that the kitchen is there for show? Do they believe that fire trucks can fit into a car wash bay? I don't understand it, but people don't know that these things go on.

I can understand them not knowing that firefighters have to pitch in for appliances and televisions and such, but they don't know about the other stuff.

Well, they will when the documentary airs, because it's being included. It will be tough to do a voiceover for that part of the film... I'll have to bite my tongue.

So I filmed them washing walls, waxing floors, washing trucks... all that fun stuff. Then I went to the super market with them and filmed them shopping for their lunch. The manager of the store wasn't really thrilled about it, but the guys got him to relax and I got the shots I needed.

I went back on A-Group's first night shift and filmed them making dinner. As usual, the crew was exceptionally hospitable and invited me to join them for dinner. They do spoil me, I must say. :-)

My thanks to Captain Horton, Jay Fabrizio and all at North Main Street on A-Group for their participation!

Engine 8 - Take Two

Lt. Ernie Young, FF Bobby Alvarez, Erin Blackman, FF Todd Jones, FF Steve Dulong


Friday, April 20, 2007

I’m riding with Engine 8 again tonight. I had talked to Lieutenant Ernie Young and told him that I wanted to get some more footage on an Engine, being that the ride with Engine 3 had not yielded much. I arrive at the shift change and Bobby Alvarez and I have a coffee while we await Ernie’s arrival.

Around six o’clock, Ernie asked if I wanted to check out the scene of a fire that had happened the night before at an abandoned manufacturing facility. We hopped on the truck and headed out. That turned out to be an awesome walk-through. I’d never really been that close to a burned out building before – and it had to be doused again that morning because of hot spots that flared up. When we arrived, the dank smell of burned wood, plastic and God knows what else hung in the air – a wet, smoky smell. I filmed from doorways – it wasn’t really safe to go inside. As I filmed the water dripping down from a staircase, I looked to my right and saw Ernie, Bobby, Todd Jones and Steve Dulong (who had desperately been trying to avoid my lens) standing in a group and discussing what had happened the night before. I turned around and trained the camera on them and that was when it happened – I got my “money shot”. The perfect closing shot for my film. It was a beautifully exciting moment and I could barely contain myself. As they turned around and began walking back toward me, they fanned out into a line – they had no idea that I was filming them. I got a few more good shots, but that was the most fantastic shot I could have gotten.

As we stood and talked a little more about the fire, their radios began blaring.

“Attention Engine Eight and Rescue Four a still alarm,” the dispatcher’s voice proclaimed. We headed back to the truck and off to a scene that the police were already attending.

Despite the fact that I had worn a Providence Fire Department shirt, which was clearly visible, a Providence Police Officer approached me. I explained that I was with Engine Eight, then Ernie walked over and confirmed that for them. I didn’t get much footage there, but once the Rescue had arrived, we got back on the truck and headed back to Messer Street.

It was a bit of a quiet night, oddly enough. I was beginning to think that my luck with getting lots of calls was turning. The bell tipped again around five thirty – turned out someone had pulled a false alarm at a box on Union Avenue. When we arrived there, Bobby got out and reset the alarm, then we headed back to the station.

We got another call shortly thereafter for a child who had had a seizure. We got to the scene and I shot some good footage there. I also managed to notice something that no one else had noticed – the child had a large gash on the back of his head. It wasn’t bleeding – just open. Ernie mentioned it to the Rescue Lieutenant before we left. That was kind of nice – I felt like I’d actually helped a little bit. That one bothered me a little bit – the poor kid seemed like he was having a hard time.

It was quiet until after eight o’clock, when we got a call to go to Cumerford Street with the Providence Police for a domestic dispute. We pulled up to the scene and I got out of the truck with my camera in hand. Just as I was about to pull of the lens cap, I heard a woman going off on a kid who was lying in the gutter. I quickly assessed the situation and decided to stuff the camera into the pocket of the turnout coat that Bobby had lent to me. Yes, I was back in a turnout coat – but I’d learned, Steve didn’t have to catch me that night. Anyway, I stuffed the camera into my pocket and just stood back from the commotion. The police were separating the mother from her son. She was saying that she was sick of him and this girl that he kept saying he was in love with. As it turned out, this kid had gotten into an argument with his mother and ended up putting his fist through the glass window inside the front door of their residence. After much debate and the firefighters and police keeping the two separated, the rescue crew arrived and took the pair off to Hasbro. Well, that was interesting – and would have made great film footage, but no way in hell was I going to let this irate mother see me filming the tirade in progress. So… off we went, back to the station.

Some time later, the bell tipped again – must have been after ten at night. We were dispatched to back up a Rescue for a call of a baby not breathing. We all ran to the truck and headed over to the home, which was nestled in some crazy little back streets that looked out onto Route Ten. My chest was getting tight – this one was scaring me. This baby that we were responding for was apparently only fourteen days old. When we got to the house, the family said that they had gotten him breathing again, which made all of us breathe a little easier (no pun intended). They took the baby to the hospital just to be safe, though and we headed back to the station.

The most wonderful things happened that night, though. Not only did I get my fantastic shot for the closing of the film, but something even more awesome happened. Earlier in the shift – I think it was when we got back from the false alarm on Union Avenue – we got out of the truck and left the garage door open. The five of us – Ernie, Bobby, Steve, Todd and I – stood there for a while talking. We looked out into the approaching dusk at the neighborhood goings on. They told me about the locals – the ones they knew, those who always waved to them or stopped by to say hello every once in a while. Then they told me about Red – she’s an interesting character. I won’t get into that, though. Anyway, it was strange – sort of like an initiation for me. It was as if I was a new member of the crew and they were acclimating me to the neighborhood. I felt like I had somehow been adopted into their family, for lack of a better explanation. I felt like I was one of their own. That was an awesome feeling and it made me proud to know that these men were willing to make me feel at home in their firehouse.

I talked to Ernie Young on the telephone the next day and he told me that he was sorry it had been a slow night. I told him I didn’t care – I had gotten some amazing footage, but more importantly, I felt as though they had made me an honorary “Screaming Eagle”.

When I rode with Rescue Four, Zach and Kevin had made me feel like I was riding with my Big Brothers – like they had brought me to work to show me what they do – which was fabulous. When I rode the first time with Engine Eight, I felt like a filmmaker, but one who was working with friends. The same was true with Engine Three.

When I rode with Engine Eight on April 20th, Ernie, Bobby, Todd and Steve seemed to truly embrace me into a very tight-knit and very personal world. The camaraderie between them was actually visible to me that night – I was able to see that these men had been through some incredible experiences together. They had saved each other’s lives at one point or another, watched each other’s backs, kept each other safe. I could feel that bond between them, and they seemed to extend it to me.

I will never experience anything like this again in my lifetime – I know this. I also know that I am making some truly amazing friends that will be in my life long after this documentary is shot, made and aired.

Friday the Thirteenth... ugh.

FF Carl Betz, Lt. Kevin Jutras, FF Ron LeFaivre, FF Chris Wagner





Friday, April 13, 2007

Okay, so I decided to run a day shift. Once again, the officer that I was supposed to ride with wasn’t going to be there, but I was riding anyway. I knew two of the other guys on the truck, so that would work fine. I got to Washington Street at seven in the morning – man, did that one hurt. Anyway, I showed up with a ton of brownies from my Mom and after waiting for FF Ronnie LeFaivre (who had worked a call back at another station the night before), I finally decided to go upstairs and find FF John Woodard instead. When I got to the lounge, there were a few guys up there that I knew. They were very happy to see the brownies from Mom, which I found exceedingly cute. We sat around and I caught up with a few friends I hadn’t seen in a while. When Ronnie got there, he introduced me to the third firefighter on their group, Chris Wagner. He and I seemed to get along well – talking about Ireland a great deal. We Irish ones tend to find common ground fairly quickly! Carl Betz also came around and said hello – I’d be riding with him, too.

Being that it was Friday the thirteenth, I knew that it was either going to be a weird, busy day or an absolutely dead day. Sadly, it was the latter of the two. However, after both Carl and Chris had been pulled from our truck to attend HazMat training and we were given a replacement firefighter, the Lieutenant had decided that we should take the truck out and check out the area.

After that, we almost got called out to a scene, but got turned around ten seconds after we pulled out of the station. Carl Betz and Chris Wagner got back from training and rejoined us. I did manage to get some footage of the guys cleaning in the station – John Woodard washing Ladder 1, stuff like that. Later on, we got called to a box alarm down near the North Main Street Station at Citizens Bank. I did get a little bit of footage there – caught Jay Fabrizio there checking out the alarm box in the hallway of the building with Battalion Chief Curt Varone. But otherwise, fairly uneventful. I think we were actually heading back to the station from that call when we got called to a nursing home down near Women & Infants’ Hospital. There was a patient who was bleeding from the shunt in her arm. She had just had dialysis treatment. We got there and after some chaos ensued (I won’t go there…) the rescue picked her up. Carl Betz spent the better part of thirty minutes holding this woman’s arm up in the air and keeping pressure on the shunt to keep her from bleeding out too much.

I ended up leaving around four-thirty, even though the shift ended at five. I had found out that my doctor and very dear family friend, Ernie Zuena, had died unexpectedly and his wake was that night. I did enjoy hanging out with my friends, but a fairly uneventful day, sad to say. At least I didn’t have to wear a turnout coat that day – just a short, black jacket with a PFD patch on the shoulder.

Engine 8 - Take One

Friday, February 16, 2007

I am supposed to ride with Engine Eight out of Messer Street tonight. We had a storm – the entire state is covered in ice. The road crews did manage to clear the streets during the day and salt them down, so I’m not so concerned about that, but everything else is sheer ice. It’s a bit foreboding, really. It’s freezing cold outside – the temperature went to about twenty-eight degrees during the afternoon, but the later it gets, the faster the temperature is dropping. The news says it will be about thirteen degrees by midnight. This ought to be interesting.

At about three-thirty, I get a phone call from Engine Eight’s Lieutenant, Ernie Young. He says that he can’t go in tonight, but that if I still want to ride, Captain McDaniel okayed me to ride with him and the rest of Ernie’s D-Group Crew – FF Bobby Alvarez, FF Steve Dulong and FF Todd Jones. I decide to go ahead and do it – I need to get this footage shot and get rolling.

I arrive at the station around five-thirty and ring the bell. I am escorted upstairs by one of the guys from Ladder Two, the second unit housed at Messer Street, and brought to Captain McDaniel’s office. As I enter the room, I can see that this man is a seasoned, veteran firefighter. FireMAN, more accurately. He is also an ex-Marine, from what I’m told. He has a gruff appearance at first and I’m already nervous to begin with. I know Ernie well – a good friend – and his absence here is felt in its entirety. I explain my project to the Captain and he lays down his rules. He will let me know if it’s okay to enter a scene. If he tells me to stay on the truck, there’s a reason – do it. If there is a fire, just say clear of the structure that’s burning and if I get cold or feel like I’m in the way, get back on the truck and stay safe. That’s the main concern for him – that I am not in harm’s way and I don’t get left at a scene inadvertently. And don’t miss the truck!!

Bobby Alvarez comes to the Captain’s office, greets me and brings me into the lounge area to meet the rest of the crew. I make sure that everyone knows I’m filming and no one has any issues with that, thank God. Jeff is busy making dinner in the kitchen area and the rest of the guys are going in and out of the lounge. Bobby and I chat while I set up my camera and get the light settings ready. Not long after, the bell tips and we jump and run to the truck. The call was for an elderly person who dropped a pot full of boiling water and her foot was burned. Captain McDaniel leads the crew into the building and while they assess the woman’s condition, he radios Fire Alarm to let them know we’ve arrived on scene. We’re told that the Rescue is en route and will be there shortly. I’m trying to film from the hallway, with residents walking through trying to see what’s happened and not wanting to go into the tiny apartment. It was already jam-packed with four firefighters, the victim and her neighbor. The Rescue crew arrives and brings two more firefighters, along with a gurney, into the mix. I follow as they take the woman out to the rig and get her settled in. When all is said and done, we get back into Engine Eight and head back to Messer Street. When we arrive back at the station, I get out of the truck and Captain McDaniel is looking me over, his brow furrowing in concern.

“That’s not going to work, Kid,” he says to me. “Your jeans are light, but not light enough. That dark coat is going to be a problem. We won’t be able to see you and if the police are on scene, they won’t know you’re with us. Come with me.” He walks me into the gear room. As we walk toward it, I turn and see Bobby, Todd and Steve smiling at me. I’m getting a little concerned. The Captain looks through a row of turnout coats hanging on a bar. “Okay, choose one of these two and lose the coat. Keep the hooded sweatshirt on under this, though. I don’t want you freezing to death out there and it’s gonna get colder before the night is out.” I look at the two coats he’s chosen and take one from a hangar. The damned thing must have weighed fifteen pounds. I try it on over my jacket and sweatshirt, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I walked back out to the apparatus floor where the three others are standing there, arms folded across their chests, grinning and snickering as I try to walk with this extra weight on me.

“Good God,” I say to them, “and this is just the coat? I can’t imagine a full set of turnouts.”

“A little heavy for ya there, Erin?” Bobby smiled at me. “It’s better than that dark jacket. We’ll be able to see you in that.”

“Come over here, Kid,” the Captain says to me. He’s standing at the passenger door of the Engine and is reaching for something by the Captain’s seat. He steps down from the truck with a huge flashlight in his hand. He walks over to me and sticks it into the top pocket of the coat. “Here, keep this in that pocket and if you need it, just hold this button down. That way it’ll just be there for you.”

“Thanks, Cap,” I say, trying to adjust to the extra five pounds he just dumped onto my left shoulder. I see the other guys grinning and walking up the stairs. I put the turnout coat onto the truck so I could just grab it and go, then proceeded to go back to the lounge upstairs.

Just after dinner, the bell tipped again and we answered a call for a young man with AIDS who was apparently suffering from pneumonia, or “High Five”, as the firefighters call it. This one’s a treacherous call – firstly because I made the mistake of putting the turnout coat on and then trying to pull myself up into the Engine. Thank God Steve Dulong was behind me – he caught me and pushed me up into the truck. As he got into the jump seat, I thanked him. (That was when I decided to leave the coat on my seat and wrestle into it as we rode to calls, rather than trying to pull myself up into the truck with it on again. As I learned, once I got used to the weight of it, it became easier to get onto the truck with it on.) We got to the house where the young man was and his Visiting Nurse met us at the door. Navigating that sidewalk and driveway were pretty frightening, the ground was covered in sheer ice. The Captain did keep an eye on me and told me that he’d let me know if it was okay to come in. I let them all go up into the man’s second-floor apartment before I ascended the stairs, my camera rolling. I waited at the landing, just where I would be in the Captain’s line of sight. He waved me in and I proceeded toward the door, not wanting to actually enter the apartment and jam things up. They administered oxygen to him and as I filmed this and listened to the questions they asked him, it reminded me of my friend, Alan, who died at the age of twenty-five due to complications from AIDS. It was breaking my heart, I felt terrible. I discovered that this guy was only forty-one years old. Then I heard the unmistakable bark of a small dog – that Napoleonic, large bark that sounded like a little kid trying to sound like an adult. I thought to myself, “who’s going to take care of that poor little thing?” My mind kept going back to how emaciated Alan had been when he died. He looked like he was ninety years old – his thighs only as big around as my forearms. It was terrible, and this poor bastard was on his way to looking exactly the same as Alan had. I tried to push the thoughts out of my head. I looked out the window in the hall and saw the Rescue Crew coming. I got myself out of the way and once they were inside the apartment, I went back outside. The wind was whipping – a sustained wind of at least twenty miles per hour, with gusts up to forty miles per hour. My lips immediately went numb and I was freezing – at least the parts of me that weren’t covered up by the two hundred pound turnout coat. I stood off to the side of the driveway on a small patch of concrete that was not covered in ice, waiting for them to come outside with the young man. As they appeared in the doorway, I could see that they were having trouble adjusting in the darkness. I switched on the ten pound flashlight and pointed it toward the stairs. One of the guys looked over and smiled, followed by a nod of thanks. I filmed as they brought him to the rig and Captain McDaniel was suddenly at my side. He asked me if I had caught what was going on – he answered a couple of questions for me, then we headed back to quarters.

We had a few other rescue calls, one back to the same building where we’d picked up the woman who had burned her foot. The second call was for a man who was having a bad asthma attack. The guys gave him a breathing treatment and we had to wait for what seemed like forever for Rescue One to make it there from the other side of the City. They really need more rescues, I’ve got to tell you. It was amazing. But, that’s why they dispatch an Engine to every rescue call – we got there a good ten or fifteen minutes before the rescue did and the guys had started treatment and at least made the man feel a little more comfortable. Once the rescue got there and took over, we got back into the truck and headed back home.

Just when I was about to pack myself up and head out, the bell tipped one more time. We got a call for a fire on Cranston Street at Potters Avenue. As we left for the call, I was being told that a young man had been bludgeoned to death at that very corner not three weeks earlier. His friends had set up a memorial for him at the telephone pole on the corner and apparently the rival gang that was responsible for his death had torched the memorial. When we got there, the fire had already burned out almost entirely, only embers glowing at the base of the pole. We got out of the truck and Captain McDaniel was immediately at my side.

“Now, be careful here, Kid,” he said. “There was a murder here, did they tell you?” I nodded. “Well, the gang that killed this kid probably torched his memorial. They could still be hanging around here, so keep your eyes peeled. Stick close and if there’s any sign of trouble, run for the truck.” That was the first time that I really got scared doing this. He was not kidding – not by any stretch of the imagination. I shook it off and filmed Bobby dousing the remainder of the embers with water. “Can you smell the gasoline?” I nodded to the Captain. “That’s why it burned out so fast. They doused it with gasoline and torched it. Once the gas burned off, it went out. Good thing, too.”

I left not too long after we got back from that call. I had gotten pretty scared with that one and it was ridiculously cold out there. Bobby walked me out to the parking lot and unlocked the gate for me. I ran my car for a couple of minutes and said good night to him.

As I drove home, I found myself thinking of that young man with AIDS and missing Alan – and Richard – and even Derek Meader. It was strange… when I told the Captain that I felt bad for the guy, he said, “you can’t let that stuff get to you, Kid. There is a lot of nasty, nasty stuff out there. If you let them all get to you, it’ll send you crazy.” He was right – I tried to let go of it.

Riding with Rescue 4

Friday, November 11, 2006

I cannot believe it – I am actually going to start filming the documentary I’ve been talking about for a year. I’m excited, a little nervous – slightly scared, but I know that I’m in the best hands I could possibly be in. Lt. Zach Kenyon and FF Kevin Burns are good friends and I have known them for quite a while. I know that they will keep me safe. My bigger concern is keeping myself out of their way.

On my way to Washington Street, my cell phone rings – it’s my Aunt Jean. She is worried about me, tells me to be safe and that she’ll be listening on her scanner. I have to smile – she’s good to me. I assure her that I’m in good hands and that the guys will make sure I’m safe.

It’s seven o’clock on a Friday night – unseasonably warm weather makes me a bit uneasy about what we might encounter. People get crazy when the weather should be cold, but it feels like Spring. I grab all of my equipment and go into the station. Zach and Kevin are on a call. I sit and talk with some of the other firefighters while I wait for them to get back. I hear Zach on the Voc Alarm at around seven-thirty.

“Rescue Four to Fire Alarm,” Zach says.

“Go ahead Rescue Four,” the dispatcher responds.

“I need you to put us out of service temporarily so I can return to quarters and pick up our ride along.”

“Rescue Four, temporarily out of service and returning to quarters, nineteen-thirty.”

A short time later, Zach and Kevin arrive and greet me. Zach goes over some rules with me to keep us all safe and shows me to an empty dorm room where I can crash – if I get the chance, that is. Before eight o’clock arrives, the bell tips and we’re on our way.

In twelve hours, Rescue Four answered fourteen calls – I only missed a few. (I did miss the truck once when the bell tipped – but that was because I never heard the page on the Voc Alarm! I was the first on the truck for every call after that.)

We had some interesting events happen – a man with chest pains on the East Side of the city, a girl with a burned arm at the Hartford Projects, a drunken man with a bloody nose on Broad Street, a fussy baby having trouble breathing in South Providence, a guy who got hit in the head outside a nightclub Downtown, an elderly woman with emphysema who still smokes five packs a day while on oxygen, an elderly Asian man in the Armory District with some sort of illness (that was at ten minutes to six in the morning, seventy minutes before the end of the shift). There were a couple of nonsensical calls, but most were fairly valid. Of course, the false alarm for a motor vehicle accident on 195 East at three-thirty in the morning was maddening. We had even seen Life-Flight bringing in a victim of a motor vehicle accident to Rhode Island Hospital Trauma Unit. I thought that was going to be an awesome piece of footage.

At that particular point in time, my family and I had just gone through an absolutely horrific scare with my Dad. He had a tumor in his left lung, right by his aorta. He underwent a new procedure called Tumor Ablation at Rhode Island Hospital to kill off the tumor. After the procedure, his lung had collapsed and he was hospitalized for two weeks. He had just gotten out of the hospital two days before this ride along happened. The woman that we picked up – the one who had emphysema and still smoked like a fiend – that one really got to me. I had to stop filming her and turn away from everyone. Tears rolled silently down my cheeks. I told Kevin I had to stop filming when he asked if I was okay. It just really bothered me. My father had quit smoking ten or eleven years ago and never smoked while he was on oxygen. I couldn’t believe that this woman was so willing to put a high-rise full of people, including her own son, at such risk. A cannula in her nose, pumping three liters of oxygen into her lungs and she’s lighting up. Amazing. I know it’s hard to quit – I’m an idiot myself and still smoking – but for the love of God… anyway…

It was an incredible learning experience – these two are an awesome team. I learned so much from them that night. Running Rescue means that you have to play doctor, nurse, mommy, daddy, psychologist and cop – it is a very delicate balance. I noticed something, too – the calls for babies really bother them. They show concern in every situation, but the babies really worry them. Once they ascertain that the child is okay and safe, they’re fine, but it does get to them. Fascinating, to say the least – and an interesting study in human behavior on all fronts, not just the firefighters, but the people, as well.

Sometime around four in the morning, we were called to South Providence to pick up a twenty-four year old female complaining of chest pains. When we arrived, she told Zach that she didn’t think she really needed to go to the hospital. This was when I witnessed Zach’s incredible talent for hiding what he was really thinking. Being that I know him, I could hear the aggravation in the tone of his voice, but the girl had no idea.

“Well, since it’s four in the morning and you thought it was important enough to call us, maybe we should at least take you to be checked out,” Zach said. I had to choke back a laugh and Kevin just smiled and rolled his eyes at me. She agreed and Zach called out to Kevin from the rear of the rig. “All right, Kevin, let’s hit the road.” Kevin shook his head and off we went to the hospital.

We arrived a short time later at the Emergency Room at RIH. Kevin and Zach delivered the girl and got her signed in with the triage nurse. Zach stayed inside to finish the process and Kevin came back out to me.

“That woman that they brought in on the Life-Flight? That was a car accident up in Fall River. Her husband’s here too. It’s his birthday and I guess they were going out to celebrate. She got ejected from the car. She died shortly after they got her here. Hell of a happy birthday, huh?” I could see that Kevin felt for them, but I could also see that he has trained himself to not let it bother him too much. I, on the other hand, did not take it so well. I had no idea why, but I walked off to a corner where no one could see me and I cried for this couple. I didn’t know them – my only connection to them was that I had filmed the helicopter bringing her in to be treated. I just couldn’t help crying – I felt terrible. That was when I had decided to not use that footage – she was actually dead when the brought her in. Clinically dead, but dead nonetheless. I just couldn’t bring myself to use the footage.

I got about fifteen minutes of dozing time – no sleep at all, really. The bell tipped and we went rushing out to the Armory District call. When we arrived, Engine Eight was already there. My friend, FF Bobby Alvarez, was working a call back with C-Group. He sleepily smiled and waved to me… all of us looked like zombies. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. It was a little chilly by then, but still unseasonably warm. As I looked at all of the guys, I felt for them. I was beginning to understand the exhaustion that they felt and I gained an entirely new level of respect for them there on that street, waiting for them to get the elderly man and his daughter to the rig. I got into the front seat and turned my camera to the back of the rig as they put the old man in and his daughter sat on the bench. She had to translate for him, because all he spoke was his native language. I’m still not sure whether it was Chinese or Korean, but I’d at least narrowed it down to one of the two. I waved goodbye to the Engine Eight boys as they got back on their truck and went back to Messer Street.

As we drove to Rhode Island Hospital with the elderly Asian man at ten to six in the morning, the sun was rising higher over Providence. The sky was turning from black to navy blue to powder blue to amber… beautiful, really, even with no sleep. I don’t see that transition very much. Anyway, Kevin Burns summed it all up for me in one phrase…

“Well, there it is,” he said to me, pointing at the rising sun, “every rescue man’s worst nightmare, sunrise.”

“Why is that?” I asked this as I turned the camera to get his answer on film.

“Because it means another night with no sleep,” he tiredly replied. As I turned the camera back toward the sunrise, I kept my eyes on Kevin. He was exhausted, his face drawn, his eyelids fighting to stay open.

I don’t know how they do it – it’s amazing to me. I begin to wonder what riding the Engines will be like. I won’t find out for another few months because the holidays are coming up.

These guys are absolutely awe-inspiring to me. I’m drawn to their amazing ability to stay awake and not go ballistic on people who call at four in the morning and say they are sick, only to have us arrive and they decide they don’t need to go to the hospital. I can’t fathom doing that four days week for years on end. Just think – I missed the shooting victim they picked up a few days before I rode with them. If they hadn’t arrived when they did, the guy would be dead now. Zach and Kevin saved him. Unbelievable.