When the Tones Go Off

"BEEP!!  BEEP!!  BEEP!!

Both of us jerk awake to the sound of my superhero's pager going off. It's one o'clock in the morning. Fire in a house trailor out in the County.  Jeff fumbles for his clothes to the light of a flashlight.  He is very considerate that way.  As he stumbles around in the half-light looking for jeans, shirt, shoes, I ask "Do you have to go on this one?" because I know he hasn't been feeling well.  "We're short-handed" he says gruffly, as he bounces, literally, off the window next to his dresser.  "Are you ok??"  "Not awake yet" he answers.  He comes around to my side of the bed, kisses me and I say, as I do everytime, "I love you, go save someone Honey and be safe".  He never leaves this house without that kiss and those words.  It's become our ritual.  Five minutes later, I hear the sirens and his voice on the scanner telling Dispatch his unit is on-route.  It's 1:15am.

I lay in bed for a few minutes, wishing I could go back to sleep, but knowing I won't until he comes home again.  Being in love with a firefighter has its moments, but my heart bursts with pride knowing that at 59, he still leaps up and races for the door when the tones go off, knowing someone needs him.  I stumble downstairs to find the door half open because in his haste to get out, he doesn't realize he hasn't closed it all the way.  The dogs go out into the dark and rain and are confused that food isn't waiting for them like our morning ritual.  It technically is morning, but they are going to have to wait until its really morning.

Being in love with a firefighter means you are a part of a community of volunteers who all jump to the sound of those tones, race out of their homes, jump into trucks and run towards danger.  Wives, lovers, children, home safe while they barrel towards an overturned semi-trailor on the highway in a blizzard, a house fire or wildland fire in the county.  Each and every one of them takes their job seriously and personally.  And they are volunteers.

Rural Firefighters are a family, my family.  When Jeff and I got engaged on New Year's Eve, Chris, a LT. with the fire department told me I was now "part of the family".  I've never had a nicer thing said to me.  I may not run hose or drive a truck, but I am Momma Bear to this group.  Many of the firefighters are significantly younger than Jeff and every call is a learning experience for all of them, no matter their age.  I am very protective of my firefighter family.  During the blizzard of 2010 which happened on Thanksgiving, these brave men and women were all working, pulling people out of ditches, stopping traffic on the Interstate and helping people get back to their homes when the drifts were too big to get through.  They worked all day and most of the night, missing their families and Thanksgiving.

After the storm was over and things were back to "normal" Jeff & I talked to the Chief and suggested we cook a full-on Thanksgiving dinner for all the firefighters who worked through the holiday.  A couple of friends helped me in the kitchen and we cooked a 30lb bird with all the sides, including pies and homemade cranberry sauce and served anyone who wanted to come to the station.  We decorated the tables at the station with tableclothes and flowers.  I  have never felt so good doing something, in the kitchen no less, for others.

Like any family, this one is always full of drama.  Some days I would just shake my head ruefully as Jeff would tell me the latest news in the department.  Small towns breed drama and when its a slow day, "so and so" said "such and such" and a third "so and so" is pissed off.  Jeff is the perfect guy for a leadership role in the department as Assistant Chief.  He is level headed, safety minded and knows what he is doing.  It's hard not to get caught up in the stories though.  He'll worry something like a dog worrying a bone until he's shaken it hard enough that he's figured it out.  Sometimes you just can't help but get caught up in other people's dramas.  I try not to get involved and I know how to keep my mouth shut, most of the time.

Like most families, if you need something, someone from the Department will be there to lend a hand.  When we moved into our house, we had 4 firefighters helping us, in the snow.  When a giant tree limb fell and almost smashed Jeff's car, Chuck, a great friend, and member of the Department, came out with a truck and a chain saw to help Jeff get the limb out of the way and safely cut apart so no one would get hurt.  When Georgie the WonderDog died, a bunch of firefighters joined us for a wake to celebrate that wonderful dog's life.  Actually they watched me drink enough tequila to get alcohol poisening the next day and stood over me as I drunkenly slipped on the floor in my kitchen.  I remember looking up to see all these faces peering down at me as I was sprawled on the floor, worried and concerned that I'd hurt myself.  No pain, but then tequila does have that numbing effect.  Jeff poured me into the guest room (thankfully not upstairs) to sleep it off.   They were there for me because they knew how much pain I was in losing that dog.  They were there to make sure we knew we were not alone.  And they have been there ever since, hasseling me about my drinking habits.

This department has a history of weekly training for every volunteer and weekend trainings throughout the year on different aspects of being a firefighter-wildland fire training, house fire training, breaking thru walls, running hose, using the "jaws of life" and cutting apart a vehicle as well as CDL training.  For a group of people who are not getting paid for putting their lives on the line every time those tones go off, safety always comes first and everyone knows when the time comes, the training will kick in and there will always be someone who has their back, dramas be damned.

During fire season, and there is such a thing in big sky country, Jeff could be gone for weeks at a time, working with the Montana State Fire Command, in charge of setting up all the communication equipment for all the agencies involved.  He's taken a helicoptor to the tops of mountains to set up antennas.  He sleeps on the ground with hundreds of others fighting the fire.  He isn't one of the young kids digging ditches to keep a fire from jumping or putting out hot spots, which helps me sleep a bit easier when he is on a fire.  His role is key however, making sure everyone can communicate with each other.  A couple of years ago, one of his teams lost a member during a fire and it was devastating.  Being a firefighter, like being a policeman, is dangerous work.

Jeff is constantly questioning me regarding whether I feel resentful when he runs out to a fire.  I always answer "no" because I know he lives for those tones and the reason to run out of the house in the middle of the night, leaving the door open.  He is a superhero.  They are all superhero's, but he's MY superhero.

Next time you see a firefighter or police officer, take a moment and thank them.  Many are paid; most firefighters are volunteers and your neighbors.  While you are sleeping, they are saving lives, homes and structures.

Thanks for reading!