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.
