Fire Fighting Tales from Rural Maine: Why

April 18, 2016

I've had some demons to face at Fire Academy, not the least of which were my own low opinion of my self and my overwhelming fear of confined spaces.

We returned to our Class A burn site on Saturday for what was one of the most physically grueling experiences of my entire life. I spent a lot of the day wondering why (why-in-God's-name, why?!) was I doing this. I didn't think I could possibly climb or carry one more ladder, swing one more axe, do one more evolution. I just couldn't. And it wasn't even lunch time yet.

But in each moment when I felt like I couldn't, this girl showed up--this girl who is me!--and she waited until I'd finished thinking, "I can't..." and then she stepped into the quiet, tired space inside me and she said, "Yes. Yes, you can. I *know* you can."

And so I did.

I swung a sledgehammer at a concrete wall in full gear wearing a pack in 65 degree direct sun; I used a chainsaw; I climbed and hammered and swung and carried and crawled and I *worked*. And when it came time for my exhausted body to smash through walls with urgency and climb through spaces that were too small for me, I took off my pack (the right way, left side so you can keep breathing) and I passed it through, and I took off my helmet and I passed it through, and I smooshed my firefighter body through each and every hole. They held us down. They set off alarms. They hollered and threw debris and bodies on top of us.

And I got through. My whole company got through.

When my panic swept up like a tsunami, I took a deep breath and dove under it. I got through and I did not cry.

I got through!

And at the end of that day, stinking, bedraggled, bruised, and exhausted, you could not have wiped the shit-eating grin (as my Chief calls it) off my face.

And this is why I do Fire Academy. :-)

In a feat of mighty, mighty fortitude the cadets (and some instructors) of Hancock County Fire Academy spent alllllll day taking turns smashing a concrete wall (10" thick? reinforced with rebar). And you know what? We did it! By the end of the day, that hole was big enough for Marcus Tweedie and a whole company of fire fighters to climb through. This is me during my turn.

I posted this (above) on Facebook, and here's what my Chief said, in response: "I've been having a little difficulty putting this into words, but here goes. Many times speaking with women in particular about volunteering for the fire department, most have some of the same doubts that Naomi did. Few take the first step to see what it's about and what they might have to offer. We don't use force, shame or push them into becoming more than they are capable of. We may offer some encouragement to do more than they think they are capable of. We try to find a job they are comfortable with and give them the support to do it well. All of our jobs are important, some may seem a little more glamorous than others. Sometimes a member will get an interest to do just a little more or want to learn new skills outside of their comfort zone for too many reasons to list. You just never know how much more you want to be involved until you are part of a volunteer department. You watch and learn, and find that "I think I would like to do that". Here is a firefighter who started her journey as a somewhat shy, timid and tentative new member who had many reservations but wanted to drive a fire truck. She found herself in situations beyond her comfort zone and didn't back away. Now she's on the tail end of a mentally and physically exhausting training academy to face the very thing she said she was frightened of, fire. Three years ago I wouldn't have imagined this is where she'd be. Quite the opposite actually. Now we look forward to having yet another qualified interior firefighter in our ranks. Take a chance, see what you can be capable of finding inside yourself by volunteering with your local fire department. Your story might not be as glamorous but your community will benefit none the less."