Tales from Rural Maine: Showing Up

When I applied to join the Orland Fire Department in April, the thing I said I felt I could offer, apart from computer skills and a knack for driving, was the ability to give comfort in a time of crisis. I imagined that for a person who was watching their house burn, or for someone who was shaken up by a car accident, or who was standing on the shore hoping their kids got safely rescued from a capsized boat, that having someone calm and caring to pay attention to them might be of some use. 

It was a remarkable gift that I was voted into the Department less than 48 hours before my best friend from all the way back to fifth grade found herself standing on the edge of her property watching acres and acres of her land burn, while more than 60 firefighters from five towns swarmed across those burning acres, and more than half a dozen fire engines clogged her road, lights flashing, and a forest service helicopter shuttled giant buckets of water back and forth over her head.

My friend is a tough cookie. But, I saw her standing there watching it all, a little ashen-faced, and I asked permission to leave the water supply station so that I could go and talk to her. The Chief said "Yes, just stay where I can see you," so I walked up to my old friend, flanked by her brother-in-law and her teenaged nephew, and when she realized it was me inside that turnout gear, her jaw dropped lower than that helo’s bucket. I don't know if anyone has ever been so glad to see me in my life. It turns out that she had no idea I’d joined the department, and the first words out of her mouth were, “You’re a firefighter??!!” And her second words were, “I’m SO glad to see you!”

She told me later that it really helped, that simple experience of seeing a smiling, friendly face in the midst of all that stress and unfamiliar commotion. “I don’t know any of these people…” she said. Somehow, just knowing one person amongst the dozens, knowing she had a friend--a friend in  firefighting gear, no less--took the edge off. Things started to seem okay. And thanks to all those firefighters and the rangers, things really were okay. By the time darkness fell, the fire was contained. My friend's house, her husband, all their buildings and pets and people—all were safe and sound.

It will take a while before I have the skills and training to pump water on my own or legally drive fire trucks or to pry someone out of a car with the Jaws of Life. I’m working on it. And I’m never going to be the girl on the roof with a chainsaw. But on Day 1, I was able to make a difference, just because I showed up. I stayed calm and quiet. I went where I was supposed to. I paid attention. And I cared how people were feeling. 

I've often been told in my life that I'm too sensitive, but I've finally learned to believe them less and believe myself more. There are ways to use sensitivity as a strength. And in my opinion, joining an all-volunteer fire department is one of them.