Finally, We Deliver.
I hate to have two introductions to something, but in this case, part of this needs to an introduction. I'm not sure what to officially call this, simply because Zach and Tom aren't around and I don't want to speak for them, but here is the first post, of an unknown quantity (even to us) by Brandi Filumena. Little things about post will hit you and stay with you. For me it was when adrenaline was mentioned and the overall message, which is, nakedly, be more careful and support your local firefighters, EMTs and first responders, but one more pertinent to this blog is that bad things happen in the blink of an eye, when you least expect it. I've been reading Arkham Asylum, Watchmen and the Killing Joke, while staying up far too late last night working on my thesis, so for me, this is reality coming upside my skull with a 2x4.
I won't speak for Brandi in terms of biographical notes. She speaks well enough on her own.
Prologue: I wrote this around 6 PM 15 August, short on sleep and long on thought. It's getting posted rather later, but I wasn't really sure if I should post this on the blog or not – I thought it might be too disturbing. James convinced me it was worth posting. Here it is, but you might want to put your snack down for a minute.
I've had several different topics in my head to blog about this summer, and they will appear later, as I pare my initial writings down to something short and salient. This morning (15 Aug), they all got pre-empted.
As some of you know, I'm on the local hazmat team. We don't get called out often, as ours is a rural county, and in the 3 years or so that I've been with the team, I think I'd been on 5 calls, all of which were for hydrogen sulfide coming from a blocked sewer pipe. I'd missed on a couple of diesel fuel spills, but that's pretty much what we get most of the time. Today was something different. At 4:00 this morning I got the call to go to a semi-trailer accident involving a leak of "unknown fluid". I'm the team chemistry expert, so I figured I'd better get my tail out of bed and go. By the time we'd arrived on scene, the fire crew had determined that the "unknown fluid" was just a mixture of diesel fuel and antifreeze, both of which they know how to deal with, though they had run out of absorbent pads to sop up the mess so we (the hazmat team) supplied them. That was all that I was officially needed to do. In fact, we had enough people turn out that I didn't actually get my hands dirty. The hazmatters who were also firefighters (chief Lud, Sully, and Boomie) were a bit more astute than I was at 4 AM and beat me to it.
This accident got me thinking in a way that none of the sewer-gas calls did. By the time the hazmat team travelled the 20-some miles to get to the accident site, the local firefighters and paramedics had already been on the job for half an hour. The accident was just too disturbing to relate in full – and my aim here isn't to disturb you with gory details. Suffice it to say that a semi hauling about 20 tons of structural steel was going uphill on a highway, and a pickup truck didn't stop at the stop sign before crossing the highway. The wreckage took out two utility poles and two rooms of an elderly woman's house before coming to a rest. (The elderly woman had fallen asleep on a couch in the back room and was fine – in fact, she seemed to be taking it all remarkably well for someone whose house had just been largely destroyed.) When everything stopped moving, the semi and trailer were upside-down on top of the pickup, which was now only about a meter thick and beyond recognition. Miraculously, the semi driver was able to walk away, and his cuts had been treated by the EMTs and he'd gone down to the hospital for the required toxicology tests. Complicating the scene was the fact that the utility poles carried electrical wires, and there were at least two downed but live wires, and the wires remaining were holding what was left of the two broken utility poles up in the air. Wires seemed to be everywhere. At least it wasn't raining.
What really got me here (apart from the urge to remind everyone to drive safely, damnit – and don't drive when you're too tired to notice the stop signs!!!) was the first responders. The volunteer firefighters and paramedics were yanked out of bed for this just as unceremoniously as I was (if not more so, for those who heard the accident a block up the street from their homes and the fire station). There wasn't much for them to do – the possibility of fire had been contained, there was no way to extricate the people from the pickup truck until the power lines were shut off and cut so that a crane could be brought in, and those poor folks in the pickup were beyond help anyway. Mostly, the firefighters and EMTs were waiting for us to bring more sorbents for the diesel fuel, and for the electric company lineman to come shut the power down and take down the power lines so a crane could be brought in to pull the wreckage apart. The firefighters and EMTs who'd been there for 20 minutes and the police who arrived shortly after us were all somber but focused. Folks who'd done all they could do as first responders until the crane arrived were providing emotional support for neighbors. Most of the firefighters, EMTs, and my hazmat teammates knelt in front of the wreckage to say a prayer for the victims at one point or another – some alone, some in small groups.
My hazmat fellows put down the sorbents, and Sully thought to put a 5-gallon bucket under the dripping diesel tank, and that was all we were needed to do. I walked over to say hello to the Coroner, whom I'd worked with at a couple of "tabletop" emergency simulations (think of any disaster movie played out as a role-playing game, without stats or minis). Lud informed me that we were done and that we could go back to bed. I said to the Coroner, "I hope you don't find any surprises in there." We all knew there were two dead adults in the pickup (and no, you really don't need to know how we knew that). He replied "yeah, so do I.… you saw the teddy bear too…." About five feet in front of the wreckage was a brown teddy bear. No one had commented on it that I'd overheard, but I'd seen lots of eyes notice it. No one wanted to give voice to the idea that there might also be a child or infant lost in that pickup. I nodded silently. So did my chief and a few others.
A young woman with the fire company came over to offer us coffee. Knowing that my job as a hazmat member was done and that I wouldn't be there much longer, I replied "you need that more than I do, you're in for the long day. I've been stood down." She replied "Yeah, but we're running on adrenaline now." Strange, mine was wearing off… but I'm not a firefighter. I was finally realizing what a superior breed of human I've had the fortune to work beside.
Now, this wasn't the first time I've worked with first responders – there's always at least one fire and EMS team (and usually 3 or 4) with us for any hazmat call. Plus, half my fellow hazmat team members are firefighters for various volunteer companies in the county. But this time I was really struck. These men and women are up at 4:00 on a chilly dark morning, losing sleep, not getting paid to be there – they're volunteers, but there to make a difference in any way they can. In a small town, they might have even known the people in the pickup truck (though at the time I was there, no one knew for sure who the victims were, and the truck could only be identified as a pickup truck by the tailgate that had been flung 200 feet from the wreckage). These folks have other jobs that pay the bills, and they went to those jobs today after putting in several grueling hours on this accident (for those involved with extrication and cleanup, many long hours). They've all got different reasons for doing it – sense of duty, thrill of the adrenaline rush, wanting to save lives, or maybe for less impressive reasons. Regardless of the motivation, they're out there for us when life gets bad, without pay, often without much recognition, for the karma, for the knowledge that they're making a difference for someone.
The world could use more people like volunteer firefighters & paramedics.
Is your town served by volunteer fire & ambulance crews? Support them – please! The equipment isn't cheap, and neither is the diesel fuel for the rescue vehicles. They're there for you – help them to help your community. Go to the Fireman's Carnivals, buy the tickets for the pig raffles or gun raffles (OK, if you're a pacifist, skip the gun raffle and just make a donation), put money in the boot at the intersection on your main street, send in the money for a membership to the local ambulance service. They need your help so that they can be there to help you. I hope you never need them, but they're there. (OK, it's less likely that you'll need the hazmat team, but I'm there too if you need me.)
And please, please, drive safely, damnit!
Epilogue:
The good news is that the teddy bear came from the bedroom of the house that was hit. There were no unpleasant surprises, other than that one of the victims was from the area and some of the townsfolk knew her. The semi driver didn't have any illicit substances in his blood, and he'd been traveling 35 mph – legal speed. He's OK. The elderly woman whose house was hit is being cared for by friends and family and is also OK.
Neither of the newspapers showed pictures of the wreckage as I saw it – they didn't get in until the crane had rolled the semi out later in the morning, and they only took pictures of the house and the semi. I'm OK with that. What I saw was a little too disturbing. I didn't get back to sleep that morning, despite coming home exhausted while it was still dark out. I didn't sleep too well later that night either. Last night at the hazmat meeting I saw the pictures taken by the Office of Emergency Responders. Even though I'd seen the scene, they were still rather shocking, and I noticed a few details I hadn't seen before and rather wish I hadn't noticed in the pictures.
Firefighters and EMTs see this kind of stuff all the time - every nasty car wreck, they're there pulling people out, putting fires out, tending to the wounded. My first responder friends tell me you get used to this after a while, if you do it long enough. They're made of strong stuff, much stronger than I am. We all knew that seven years ago - but this was a powerful reminder.
I won't speak for Brandi in terms of biographical notes. She speaks well enough on her own.
Prologue: I wrote this around 6 PM 15 August, short on sleep and long on thought. It's getting posted rather later, but I wasn't really sure if I should post this on the blog or not – I thought it might be too disturbing. James convinced me it was worth posting. Here it is, but you might want to put your snack down for a minute.
I've had several different topics in my head to blog about this summer, and they will appear later, as I pare my initial writings down to something short and salient. This morning (15 Aug), they all got pre-empted.
As some of you know, I'm on the local hazmat team. We don't get called out often, as ours is a rural county, and in the 3 years or so that I've been with the team, I think I'd been on 5 calls, all of which were for hydrogen sulfide coming from a blocked sewer pipe. I'd missed on a couple of diesel fuel spills, but that's pretty much what we get most of the time. Today was something different. At 4:00 this morning I got the call to go to a semi-trailer accident involving a leak of "unknown fluid". I'm the team chemistry expert, so I figured I'd better get my tail out of bed and go. By the time we'd arrived on scene, the fire crew had determined that the "unknown fluid" was just a mixture of diesel fuel and antifreeze, both of which they know how to deal with, though they had run out of absorbent pads to sop up the mess so we (the hazmat team) supplied them. That was all that I was officially needed to do. In fact, we had enough people turn out that I didn't actually get my hands dirty. The hazmatters who were also firefighters (chief Lud, Sully, and Boomie) were a bit more astute than I was at 4 AM and beat me to it.
This accident got me thinking in a way that none of the sewer-gas calls did. By the time the hazmat team travelled the 20-some miles to get to the accident site, the local firefighters and paramedics had already been on the job for half an hour. The accident was just too disturbing to relate in full – and my aim here isn't to disturb you with gory details. Suffice it to say that a semi hauling about 20 tons of structural steel was going uphill on a highway, and a pickup truck didn't stop at the stop sign before crossing the highway. The wreckage took out two utility poles and two rooms of an elderly woman's house before coming to a rest. (The elderly woman had fallen asleep on a couch in the back room and was fine – in fact, she seemed to be taking it all remarkably well for someone whose house had just been largely destroyed.) When everything stopped moving, the semi and trailer were upside-down on top of the pickup, which was now only about a meter thick and beyond recognition. Miraculously, the semi driver was able to walk away, and his cuts had been treated by the EMTs and he'd gone down to the hospital for the required toxicology tests. Complicating the scene was the fact that the utility poles carried electrical wires, and there were at least two downed but live wires, and the wires remaining were holding what was left of the two broken utility poles up in the air. Wires seemed to be everywhere. At least it wasn't raining.
What really got me here (apart from the urge to remind everyone to drive safely, damnit – and don't drive when you're too tired to notice the stop signs!!!) was the first responders. The volunteer firefighters and paramedics were yanked out of bed for this just as unceremoniously as I was (if not more so, for those who heard the accident a block up the street from their homes and the fire station). There wasn't much for them to do – the possibility of fire had been contained, there was no way to extricate the people from the pickup truck until the power lines were shut off and cut so that a crane could be brought in, and those poor folks in the pickup were beyond help anyway. Mostly, the firefighters and EMTs were waiting for us to bring more sorbents for the diesel fuel, and for the electric company lineman to come shut the power down and take down the power lines so a crane could be brought in to pull the wreckage apart. The firefighters and EMTs who'd been there for 20 minutes and the police who arrived shortly after us were all somber but focused. Folks who'd done all they could do as first responders until the crane arrived were providing emotional support for neighbors. Most of the firefighters, EMTs, and my hazmat teammates knelt in front of the wreckage to say a prayer for the victims at one point or another – some alone, some in small groups.
My hazmat fellows put down the sorbents, and Sully thought to put a 5-gallon bucket under the dripping diesel tank, and that was all we were needed to do. I walked over to say hello to the Coroner, whom I'd worked with at a couple of "tabletop" emergency simulations (think of any disaster movie played out as a role-playing game, without stats or minis). Lud informed me that we were done and that we could go back to bed. I said to the Coroner, "I hope you don't find any surprises in there." We all knew there were two dead adults in the pickup (and no, you really don't need to know how we knew that). He replied "yeah, so do I.… you saw the teddy bear too…." About five feet in front of the wreckage was a brown teddy bear. No one had commented on it that I'd overheard, but I'd seen lots of eyes notice it. No one wanted to give voice to the idea that there might also be a child or infant lost in that pickup. I nodded silently. So did my chief and a few others.
A young woman with the fire company came over to offer us coffee. Knowing that my job as a hazmat member was done and that I wouldn't be there much longer, I replied "you need that more than I do, you're in for the long day. I've been stood down." She replied "Yeah, but we're running on adrenaline now." Strange, mine was wearing off… but I'm not a firefighter. I was finally realizing what a superior breed of human I've had the fortune to work beside.
Now, this wasn't the first time I've worked with first responders – there's always at least one fire and EMS team (and usually 3 or 4) with us for any hazmat call. Plus, half my fellow hazmat team members are firefighters for various volunteer companies in the county. But this time I was really struck. These men and women are up at 4:00 on a chilly dark morning, losing sleep, not getting paid to be there – they're volunteers, but there to make a difference in any way they can. In a small town, they might have even known the people in the pickup truck (though at the time I was there, no one knew for sure who the victims were, and the truck could only be identified as a pickup truck by the tailgate that had been flung 200 feet from the wreckage). These folks have other jobs that pay the bills, and they went to those jobs today after putting in several grueling hours on this accident (for those involved with extrication and cleanup, many long hours). They've all got different reasons for doing it – sense of duty, thrill of the adrenaline rush, wanting to save lives, or maybe for less impressive reasons. Regardless of the motivation, they're out there for us when life gets bad, without pay, often without much recognition, for the karma, for the knowledge that they're making a difference for someone.
The world could use more people like volunteer firefighters & paramedics.
Is your town served by volunteer fire & ambulance crews? Support them – please! The equipment isn't cheap, and neither is the diesel fuel for the rescue vehicles. They're there for you – help them to help your community. Go to the Fireman's Carnivals, buy the tickets for the pig raffles or gun raffles (OK, if you're a pacifist, skip the gun raffle and just make a donation), put money in the boot at the intersection on your main street, send in the money for a membership to the local ambulance service. They need your help so that they can be there to help you. I hope you never need them, but they're there. (OK, it's less likely that you'll need the hazmat team, but I'm there too if you need me.)
And please, please, drive safely, damnit!
Epilogue:
The good news is that the teddy bear came from the bedroom of the house that was hit. There were no unpleasant surprises, other than that one of the victims was from the area and some of the townsfolk knew her. The semi driver didn't have any illicit substances in his blood, and he'd been traveling 35 mph – legal speed. He's OK. The elderly woman whose house was hit is being cared for by friends and family and is also OK.
Neither of the newspapers showed pictures of the wreckage as I saw it – they didn't get in until the crane had rolled the semi out later in the morning, and they only took pictures of the house and the semi. I'm OK with that. What I saw was a little too disturbing. I didn't get back to sleep that morning, despite coming home exhausted while it was still dark out. I didn't sleep too well later that night either. Last night at the hazmat meeting I saw the pictures taken by the Office of Emergency Responders. Even though I'd seen the scene, they were still rather shocking, and I noticed a few details I hadn't seen before and rather wish I hadn't noticed in the pictures.
Firefighters and EMTs see this kind of stuff all the time - every nasty car wreck, they're there pulling people out, putting fires out, tending to the wounded. My first responder friends tell me you get used to this after a while, if you do it long enough. They're made of strong stuff, much stronger than I am. We all knew that seven years ago - but this was a powerful reminder.
Labels: brandi filumena, introductions
posted by James Thomas à Becket | 12:30 PM
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