FDIC 2009 Welcome: Symbol of the Fire Service's Sacred Trust
By Bobby Halton
FDIC 2009 marks the 81st annual assembly of the world's greatest gathering of firefighting professionals. Thus far this morning, we have been privileged to participate in several beautiful ceremonies, all deeply rooted in our profession, symbolic of what we hold as precious, and deeply connected to our passions, faith, and purpose. It is fitting that we celebrate here because now, perhaps more than ever, much that we hold precious and dear is being threatened.
We need to hold on tightly to what we know inspires us and others, and to do deeds worthy of great respect and honor. We know in our hearts what these deeds are, and we say we know them when we see them. But what does that really mean?
Knowing is about having an emotional connection. For example, you and I know instantly how we feel about our country, every time we see the flag or how we feel about our military when we see a soldier in uniform.
People see their most sacred values in symbols--the flag, our churches, the capitol building, the White House, the Statue of Liberty, and so forth. People see who we are--And, more importantly--what we represent, through the symbols of our work. The meaning and importance of these symbols must be passed on from generation to generation, or we risk losing the true intent behind them. Today our communities need us to represent what they see in the symbolism of… a fire truck. Whether we want to admit it or not, we are what other people believe us to be. For us firefighters, this is an honorable calling and a grave responsibility.
We all want to symbolize the best of what others expect from us, but, because we are human, we will often fall short of being perfect firefighters. However, belonging to this community is simply about getting up and continuing to serve.
The writer and Indianapolis native Kurt Vonnegut, whose words are here beside me on this stage, once said: "The fire truck is the most stirring symbol of man's humanity to his fellow man." He did not say the firefighter, or the fireman, or the firewoman; Vonnegut said the "fire truck" is the most stirring symbol.
He chose the fire truck for a very specific reason. More than ever we need to embrace what Vonnegut meant by those words.
He was telling us that the fire service is us; That it is our fire service and that ownership comes with a very heavy responsibility.
Being worthy to represent man's humanity to his fellow man is something we cannot take lightly. Vonnegut's words express how others see us, what our mission is, and what we symbolize to the community.
When Vonnegut identified the fire truck, he did it because it symbolizes serving a higher purpose--self-sacrifice for others.
The fire truck represents the greatest belief one could have in another person. It symbolizes humanity's greatest honor, a sacred honor--selflessness. The community expects to see this sacred honor in us, and we expect to see it in each other.
We will stumble occasionally. We will come up short and have bad days. That is inevitable, but the symbol of the fire truck, that symbol of our sacred honor, will always endure despite our individual frailties.
Vonnegut knew what he was doing when he chose the fire truck to symbolize our sacred honor. He understood what a powerful symbol the fire truck is. He understood how important our sacred honor is. He understood it represents not one man or one woman, but rather a collective spirit that is not meek or cowardly, but bold and strong.
You see, he saw this tool, the fire truck as fast, daring, innovative, and powerful--he saw the fire truck as fearless, dedicated, and competent. Most of all, he saw it as compassionate, caring, nonjudgmental, and forgiving. This is how we see our profession, and this is what firefighters must forever strive to reflect.
The sacred honor the fire truck symbolizes comes not only from the protection of life; it also comes from the willingness to take risks in the protection of someone else's treasures. Those treasures might be art, an automobile, a home, photos of loved ones, a business, or the family pet.
Recently, some have suggested that the only time to enter a burning building is when there is a life to save. But that ignores the importance of what makes a community a community--its art, its commerce, its treasures.
In the righteous cause of firefighter safety, we have spent our powerful talents redefining and reexamining our fireground operations, our behavior, and our culture. We will-- and we must--boldly continue this worthy and meaningful work. We celebrate the fact that we have spent the past decade working hard to make a difference in our own personal safety firefighters' safety, and we are blessed to have realized many excellent results and programs.
We must caution ourselves, though, because, occasionally in our passion to make our profession more effective and safer, we try to control the uncontrollable. We can never forget that our principles are what matter most of all. We must always be willing to put others' welfare ahead of ours and that there will always be those who need us more than we need them.
The fire truck more than any other tool represents to every community that there are members of that community who are willing to sacrifice their own precious time, their own collected treasures, their own humanity in the protection of others' lives and who will execute well-thought-out, well-supported, and skillful fire attacks when it is possible to save others' treasures.
We must accept and respect this sacred honor and responsibility. We must answer this call to become the physical embodiment of the lofty virtues seen by the world in the symbolism of the fire truck.
It matters deeply that when the suffering, scared, and threatened hear our sirens and our air-horns that their hearts rise in hope, for the picture they see is not of you or me but a six-ton medal of honor… a fire truck.
Recently, I was told a story that shows how well-intentioned movements affect even good men's judgment. Firefighters in a Midwestern American city responded to fire in a multi-family complex. The fire was caused by an exploding meth lab, and six of the 14 apartments were well-involved upon arrival.
The firefighters were told of a woman who was on the phone with the dispatcher trapped in a rear bedroom of her apartment. The dispatcher told her to wrap herself in a blanket and to stay low. As the firefighters battled this fire, the dispatcher told them that the trapped woman was no longer responding on the phone. The last thing she'd said was, "Please God help me; please God help me." The dispatcher kept reassuring her that the firefighters were coming.
Five firefighters working on the second floor outside of a heavily involved apartment realized that this could be the apartment where the woman was trapped. One of the firefighters decided that he could make it to the back bedroom door and that the other firefighters should stand by to assist him should he run into any difficulty in getting back out.
This firefighter then entered the apartment, which was heavily involved in fire; despite the dangers to himself, he made it to that back bedroom and found the unconscious trapped woman. He picked her up and carried her back through that same inferno, to safety. That woman is alive today because of this man's heroism.
But during the briefing several days later, a chief officer, a friend, and a good and virtuous man stated that he felt those firefighters had taken too great a risk, that the actions they took were far too risky, and that they should never do anything like that again.
The firefighter who made the grab stood up and said: "When I was hired here, the chief told us that we should risk a lot to save a lot, and that's exactly what I did."
That phrase "risk a lot to save a lot" comes from the NFPA 1500 risk-benefit passage. I think it's stated incorrectly. To be true to what our communities expect from us--in order to be true to our sacred honor-- that phrase should read:
"We will risk everything to save a savable life."
We will risk everything, including our lives, to save a savable life. That is our sacred trust; that is what sacred honor means. That is what the fire truck symbolizes. That is why we are called the bravest. That is why Vonnegut said the fire truck is the greatest symbol of man's humanity to man. This symbolism, this sacred honor, is not a lofty ideal and these are not just words. We saw these words come to life in Clarence Center New York this winter when Continental flight 3054 flew into heavy ice and became unstable. The pilots fought bravely to regain control of their aircraft, but she fell onto a home in the city of Clarence Center, New York. As two of the residents of that home crawled to safety, the home and Flight 3054 with 49 passengers and crew erupted in a fireball.
The firefighters of the Clarence Center Volunteer Fire Department did not only perform what the citizens of Clarence Center expected and knew they would do. They rose above and beyond the occasion, and although they could not save the 49 souls or the homeowner from this tragic event, they honored that trust in that they did their best and they did everything they could to save the property on either side of this inferno from becoming engulfed and destroyed.
They let that fire claim no more property than what it had when they arrived. Today in this room are those heroes, those heroes from the Clarence Center Volunteer Fire Department, and they would deny that they are heroes. They would say they didn't do it alone. Chief Dave Case would say he couldn't have done it without Assistant Chief Tim Norris, who was the first man on the scene that night. And Chief Norris would say he couldn't have done it without the other members of the Clarence Center Volunteer Fire Department. And all of Clarence Center Volunteers would say they could never have done it without the 22 other fire departments that responded that day.
They were successful, according to Chief Case, because of how they studied and trained here at FDIC and how they honored that sacred trust They are all humble men and humble women in the Clarence Center Volunteer Fire Department, and they would say they are just regular firefighters
But we know that like the firemen and firewomen of Clarence Center, we have trained and we have studied. We have exercised our minds, and our minds are ready. We have exercised our bodies, and our bodies are ready. In a deeper sense, we have exercised our hearts, and our hearts are ready--ready to be the symbols of man's humanity to man.
And if God calls us to put ourselves between danger and the threatened life of our fellow man, we will not disrespect that trust; we will not fail that sacred honor. Communities today need their fire service--career and volunteer alike--to rededicate ourselves to our core value of service to humanity.
In the days ahead we are going to be asked to sacrifice, and we will not complain. We will be called on to compromise, and we will not fail. We will be tested and prove ourselves as being worthy to ride in humanity's most inspiring symbol…the fire truck.