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Poems and Stories
Warning!!!!!
This page contains poems and stories from 'Real Firefighters' which may be difficult for some viewers.



When I am called to duty...
Wherever flames may rage...
Give me strength to save some life...
Whatever be its age...
Help me to embrace a little child...
Before it is too late...
Or save an older person from...
The horror of that fate...
Enable me to be alert and...
hear the weakest shout...
And quickly and efficiently...
To put the fire out...
I want to fill my calling and...
To give the best in me...
And if according to my fate...
I am to lose my life...
Please bless with your protecting hand..
My children, my husband or wife.



I wish you could...

    ..... see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames
or that family returning home,  only to find their house
and belongings damaged or destroyed.

I wish you could know what it is to search a burning bedroom for trapped children,
flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl,
the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen beneath you burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 a.m. as I check her
husband of forty years for a pulse and find none.
I start CPR anyway, hoping against hope to bring him back,
knowing intuitively it is too late.
But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done.


I wish you could know the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke,  sensations that I have become too familiar with.


I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning after having
spent most of the nigh hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm fire
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire
"Is this a false alarm or a working breathing fire? How is the building constructed?
What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to an EMS call, "What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening?
Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2X4 or a gun?"


I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead the beautiful little 5 year old girl that I have been trying to save during the past twenty-five minutes who will never go on her first date or say the words, "I love you , Mommy" again

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab engine, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us, however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the mangled remains of her automobile, "What if this were my sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What were her parents' reactions going to be as they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call. I wish you could feel my hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of, "It will never happen to me."

I wish you could know the physical, emotional and mental drain or missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have viewed.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone's property, of being there in times of crisis,
or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is my Mommy okay?" Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say.
Or to have to hold back a longtime friend who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him as they take his away in the ambulance.
You know all along he did not have his seat belt on,
a sensation that I have become too familiar with.
Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, what we are, or what our job really means to us.




My Daddy's A Fireman

We're seldom named in poems, though we do
have charm and poise,
Firemen never seem to have girls; it's always
boys, boys, boys!
Well, my Daddy's a fireman, and I'm proud as
I can be,
While my name isn't Tommy or Billy, he loves
me 'cause I'm me.
He needs both me and Mommy to remind him
of things to do,
Like going to Church on Sunday and emptying
the garbage, too.
One day he took me with him to his firehouse
downtown,
I sat in the big red engine and pushed the siren
down.
At times, I like to fool him; make him believe
I'm asleep at night,
He'd whisper: "Nite-nite, little darlin', don't let
the bed bugs bite!"
Please don't tell anybody, I once saw my
Daddy cry,
He fought a real bad fire and told Mommy he
saw someone die.
Why he fights these fires, I guess I'm too
young to know,
He's always helping people...and, that's why I
love him so
The reason I wrote this poem is to explain the
best I can,
Girls, just like boys, can say with pride...
MY DADDY'S A FIREMAN!




Sorry if we woke you in the middle of the night,
but someone in your neighborhood is fighting for his life.
Sorry if we block the road and make you turn around,
but there's been a bad wreck with dying children on the ground.
When you see us coming we hope you'll understand,
let us have the right-of-way - someone needs our helping hand.
Sometimes a child is choking, sometimes a broken leg.
Sometimes a heart stops beating, and when we get there it's too late.
So if you see us crying when we think we are alone,
you'll know we had a "bad" one and we're feeling mighty low.
We don't do it for the money-- you know we don't get paid.
We don't do it for the glory but for a life that might be saved.
Somewhere deep within us our souls are crying out.  
We're here to help our neighbors in their hour of pain and doubt.
God gave us something special to help us see you through.
We do it 'caus we love you, and we care about you too.