In regard to reply #1092 above FF Jim McEnroe....From the 1986 Medal Day Book:
Thomas E. Crimmins Medal
Awarded to FF James R. McEnroe, Ladder Co. 150
''Seniority," when most of us hear it, brings vaguely negative thoughts to mind. Whether this is generally just or not, it is a point too broad to cover here except as it relates to the F DNY. On May 16, 1985, FF James McEnroe of L150, was just four days away from his 25th FDNY Anniversary. The following account of his actions that day shows how the senior Firefighters in this job step up to lead the way when the going gets tough.
At the Queens Communications Office, Dispatcher 101?s 25 years experience picked up the urgency and sincerity in the caller's voice. This was no false alarm. The nearest ladder company, L150, was finishing up at a vacant building fire. Realizing precious minutes could be saved, Dispatcher 101 sent out the call. After checking with Captain Thomas Kubanick, Jim McEnroe, the company chauffeur, radioed that they were on the way.
As L150 responded to Box 5343, additional information came from the Dispatcher: "Fire reported at 91-32 195th Street. ... many callers reporting 3 people trapped on the top floor." When they rolled in, smoke had enveloped the top floor and roof of this 6-story 50' x 100' occupied MD. Dispersing like a veteran combat unit, the Firefighters adeptly moved to their various firefighting assignments. Captain Kubanick led his Interior Attack Team up to the top floor, while FF Donald Plante raced to the roof. FF Michael Bordes brought a 35-foot ladder to the rear and FF McEnroe began lowering the fire escape drop ladder in front of the building.
On the roof, Don Plante drawn to screams, looked over the rear parapet (knee-high wall) and through the swirling smoke he could see a woman leaning halfway out the 6th-floor window. She was hysterical, screaming that she had thrown her children out the window and she was going to jump herself if he didn't save her right away. The Interior Attack Team's progress was impeded by three heavy-duty security locks on the apartment's metal door. Despite the zero visibility in the smoke, they were able to force their way into the apartment where they were confronted by a solid wall of fire. Realizing that there wasn't a quick way around or through the flames without an Engine Company's hose line, Captain Kubanick radioed the situation.
In the meantime, Plante radioed McEnroe to bring the life-saving rope to the roof. During the minutes it took McEnroe to reach him, Don Plante kept a constant reassuring dialogue with the victim. When McEnroe joined Plante, they both continued to reassure Venay Mobley, while they tied the necessary knots and took the other steps so vital to a rope rescue. Within a matter of moments, secure within the 9/16-inch diameter rope, Jim McEnroe slipped over the parapet into the clouds of swirling smoke.
The volume of smoke and heat indicated the strong possibility that fire had entered the cockloft (the space between the underside of the roof and the top-floor ceiling). Both Firefighters realized that if this was the case, Plante's position on the roof would be in jeopardy. Since it was Plante who controlled McEnroe's descent, both men were at great risk.
As McEnroe reached the 6th-floor window, he was struck by the tremendous heat and steam venting from it. Despite Jim's efforts to reassure Ms. Mobley and his instructions for a safe pickup, the second he reached the ledge she leaped out on him. Frantically grasping at him, this 300-pound woman was almost lost. It took all of Jim's experience and strength to secure her and hold onto her. The sudden impact caused all the knots to tighten and coupled with the designed impact stretching (a foot or so) of the nylon rope, there was an awful sensation for a long moment. As the descent continued, both Jim McEnroe and Don Plante were strained almost beyond endurance, but they endured, and Venay Mobley is alive and well today because of it.
Today the FDNY is proud to present the Thomas E. Crimmins Medal to Firefighter James McEnroe, a Firefighter who shows what seniority means in the FDNY.