FDNY and NYC Firehouses and Fire Companies - 2nd Section

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE”


LADDER 118 LODD


FIREFIGHTER LEON SMITH JR LADDER 118 September 11, 2001







Leon Smith Jr. "Express"

Biography:

Leon Smith Jr., was born July 14, 1953 in Brooklyn, New York to proud parents, Irene and the Late Leon Smith, Sr.

He began his early education in the public school system. He continued on to Borough Hall Academy Junior High School and Queens Day Preparatory High School. He attended Gannon College in Erie, Pennsylvania, where he performed on both the basketball and soccer teams. He later transferred to Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn, where he majored in Business Management.

Prior to his being appointed to the F.D.N.Y. on February 27, 1982, Leon had appointments with the N.Y.C.D.O.T. and the N.Y.C. Department of Sanitation. He was also employed as a mental health therapist.

Leon loved helping others and knew by the early age of nine that he would become a fireman. He was often chastised for disappearing from the park, only to be found ‘hanging out’ at the local firehouse near his family’s home. His father urged his mother to just ‘let him be’, stating “At least you know he’s safe there.”

He was always caring and giving, once even giving his winter coat to a classmate who didn’t have one, because he knew he had three.

Leon also loved using his hands. He was mechanically inclined and often built miniature race cars with tiny, working engines. He had the patience of a saint. He grew up to working on real car engines in his spare time and came to be known as the ‘Firehouse Auto Mechanic’. He was also a disc jockey, along with close friend Rick Fowler. The dynamic duo called themselves, “The Slicksters”!

When Leon wasn’t working at the firehouse, he was often showing another of his many talents, by performing in various charity basketball games. He was a proud member of the Vulcan Society, an organization of black firefighters. Recently, Leon performed along with his coworker, Vernon Cherry, who is also among the missing with Ladder 118, and other firefighters, for the benefit of a young lady battling leukemia, through an organization called Songs of Love. As always, Leon was happy to do a good deed. CBS also cast Leon as an extra firefighter in the New York Series ‘Third Watch’.

Leon was a close and loving family man. The New York Daily News featured Leon and his family in a profile titled “The Family That Plays Together” on June 27, 1987.

There have been many stories told of Leon’s heroic efforts over the years. One such story was published by The Brooklyn Heights Press, telling of Leon’s assistance in a purse snatching and how he and three other firefighters chased the thief all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge, where they held him until the police arrived. Acts such as this earned him the nickname “Physical Lee.” His coworkers nicknamed him “Express” because he felt he ‘beloved’ fire truck, whom he referred to fondly as his ‘girlfriend’, should always be among the first to arrive at the scene of a fire.

Leon loved his family dearly and was very close to all. He lost his father, whom he referred to as ‘his hero’ on December 6, 1999. Leon’s mother told him she had lost her right arm. “No you haven’t Momma, I’ll always be here for you.”

Leon leaves behind his mother, Irene Smith, wife, Marilyn, four daughters, Nakia, ‘The Twins’, Tiffany and Yolanda, and Jasmine. One grandson, Mekhi, a mother-in-law, Cathy Owens, two grandmothers, Claudia Smith and Lovie Woolridge, and his close friend, Shelley Haynes, who was a very important part of Leon’s life.

Along with his ‘Brothers’ at Engine 205, Ladder 188, Leon also leaves a host of relatives and friends that miss him dearly.

https://voicescenter.org/living-memorial




ROLL OF HONOR



Leon Smith Jr.

• Firefighter
• Fire Department City of New York
• New York
• Age: 48
• Year of Death: 2001

Leon Smith‚ Jr.‚ was born July 14‚ 1953‚ in Brooklyn‚ New York to proud parents‚ Irene and the late Leon Smith‚ Sr.

He began his early education in the public school system. He continued on to Borough Hall Academy Junior High School and Queens Day Preparatory High School. He attended Gannon College in Erie‚ Pennsylvania‚ where he performed on both the basketball and soccer teams. He later transferred to Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn‚ where he majored in Business Management.

Prior to his being appointed to the FDNY on February 27‚ 1982‚ Leon had appointments with the NYCDOT and the NYC Department of Sanitation. He was also employed as a mental health therapist.

Leon loved helping others and knew by the early age of nine that he would become a fireman. He was often chastised for disappearing from the park‚ only to be found hanging out at the local firehouse near his family’s home. His father urged his mother to just let him be‚ stating At least you know he’s safe there.

He was always caring and giving‚ once even giving his winter coat to a classmate who didn’t have one‚ because he knew he had three.

Leon also loved using his hands. He was mechanically inclined and often built miniature racecars with tiny‚ working engines. He had the patience of a saint. He grew up working on real car engines in his spare time and came to be known as the ïFirehouse Auto Mechanic’. He was also a disc jockey‚ along with close friend‚ Rick Fowler. The dynamic duo called themselves‚ The Slicksters! When Leon wasn’t working at the firehouse‚ he was often showing another of his many talents‚ by performing in various charity basketball games. He was a proud member of the Vulcan Society‚ an organization of black firefighters.

Recently‚ Leon performed along with his coworker‚ Vernon Cherry‚ who is also among the missing with Ladder 118‚ and other firefighters‚ for the benefit of a young lady battling leukemia‚ through an organization called Songs of Love. As always‚ Leon was happy to do a good deed. CBS also cast Leon as an extra in the New York series Third Watch.

Leon was a close and loving family man. The New York Daily News featured Leon and his family in a profile titled The Family That Plays Together on June 27‚ 1987.

There have been many stories told of Leon’s heroic efforts over the years. One such story was published by The Brooklyn Heights Press‚ telling of Leon’s assistance in stopping a purse snatching and how he and three other firefighters chased the thief all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge‚ where they held him until the police arrived. Acts such as this earned him the nickname Physical Lee. His coworkers nicknamed him Express because he felt his beloved fire truck‚ whom he referred to fondly as his girlfriend‚ should always be among the first to arrive at the scene of a fire.

Leon loved his family dearly and was very close to all. He lost his father‚ whom he referred to as his hero‚ on December 6‚ 1999. Leon’s mother told him she had lost her right arm. No‚ you haven’t‚ Momma. I’ll always be here for you.

Leon leaves behind his mother Irene Smith‚ wife Marilyn‚ four daughters-Nakia‚ The Twins-Tiffany and Yolanda‚ and Jasmine‚ one grandson Mekhi‚ a mother-in-law Cathy Owens‚ two grandmothers-Claudia Smith and Lovie Woolridge‚ and his close friend Shelley Haynes‚ who was a very important part of Leon’s life.

Along with his Brothers at Engine 205‚ Ladder 188‚ Leon also leaves a host of relatives and friends that miss him dearly.

Irene Smith

Leon Smith Jr. - National Fallen Firefighters Foundation (firehero.org)










RIP. NEVER FORGET.

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE”


LADDER 118 LODD



FIREFIGHTER PETER VEGA LADDER 118 September 11, 2001





ROLL OF HONOR

Peter Anthony Vega
Firefighter
Fire Department City of New York
New York
Age: 36
Year of Death: 2001

Peter was a wonderful husband to Regan and a terrific dad to Ruby. He was the best son and brother anyone could ask for.

He spent 6 years in the U.S. Air Force and was a veteran of Desert Storm. After being honorably discharged‚ Peter became an ironworker with Local 40 in NYC. He became a firefighter in July 1995. The entire time Peter went to night school and graduated with a B.A. in Liberal Arts in the spring of 2001.

He will always be in the hearts of all who knew and loved him.

– Regan Grice-Vega


Peter was a NYC firefighter for 6 years‚ assigned to Ladder 118‚ Brooklyn Heights. He and 7 other members of his firehouse were lost on 9/11.

He was born in San Juan‚ Puerto Rico‚ and was very proud of his Puerto Rican and Irish heritage. He was raised in Brooklyn from the age of 3. He was dyslexic‚ thankfully diagnosed at an early age‚ but managed to overcome his handicap. He graduated with honors from high school at LaSalle Academy‚ New York City. He proudly served 6 years in the Air Force‚ serving as support during the Gulf War. On return to New York‚ he worked as an ironworker until he was called to the fire department.

At the age of 36‚ he had reached goals he set for himself. He had finished his college degree from City College of NY‚ found the work he loved‚ married‚ purchased a home‚ and had a daughter Ruby‚ who was 2 years old on August 8. He was a loving‚ kind‚ and generous son‚ husband‚ brother‚ grandson‚ and true friend to all who knew him.

– Maureen Rosenberg (his mother)

https://www.firehero.org/fallen-firefighter/peter-anthony-vega/







This Firefighter Hero WOD is dedicated to Peter Vega, FDNY, Ladder 118, who was killed on September 11, 2001.

Peter Anthony Vega was a New York City firefighter with Ladder 118. He died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. On January 1st 2002, the bodies of seven more firefighters pulled from the rubble of the World Trade Center were identified, including three from the same company who were found together in a buried lobby. Lt. Robert Regan and firefighters Joseph Agnello and Peter Anthony Vega were part of a six-man crew from Engine Co. 205 Ladder 118 in Brooklyn. The three were found New Year’s Day as excavation crews opened up the lobby of the Marriott World Trade Center Hotel. He was laid to rest January 5th, 2002.

The NY Times wrote about him:

Regan Grice-Vega was pregnant and was on the way to the doctor for a checkup with her husband, Peter Vega, when they spotted a car stalled on the side of the road. In it was a woman who had been rushing to the hospital to see her husband, who had had a heart attack. Mr. Vega pushed her car to a safe spot and then drove her to the hospital.

“We were late for our appointment, as usual, but that is the kind of person Peter was,” Mrs. Grice-Vega said. “If he was cleaning out our gutter, he would clean the neighbor’s, too.”

Mr. Vega, 36, a firefighter who was a member of Ladder Company 118 in Brooklyn Heights, called his wife just before he left for the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. They had been married five years. She was a fervent Knicks fan, and he proposed to her at Madison Square Garden with a message on the big screen at half-time.

The NY Daily News wrote:

Peter was one of six men from Ladder 118 in Brooklyn Heights who died at the Trade Center. Their truck was photographed racing over the Brooklyn Bridge with the towers burning in the distance, six firefighters heading to their deaths. The haunting photograph ran on the cover of the Oct. 5 Daily News. ‘I’ve got to go.’ In a story accompanying the photograph, Regan recounted Peter’s phone call moments before boarding the rig:
“Babe, I don’t know if you’re watching the news, but there’s been an attack on the World Trade Center. Hon, it’s a big job. I’ve got to go. I love you.” “I love you too,” Regan said. “At least I got a chance to tell him that,” she would add later.

"Peter Vega" Workout, CrossFit WOD | WODwell


















RIP. NEVER FORGET.

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


ENGINE 205 LODD


LIEUTENANT ROBERT WALLACE ENGINE 205 September 11, 2001






Two Artifacts Tell the Story of FDNY Lieutenant and Backyard Softball Legend Robert Wallace

This element opens a lightbox image gallery - A softball and Rawlings brand glove belonging to FDNY member Robert Francis Wallace is presented on a gray surface. The softball has a screaming face drawn on it in black and pink marker.




SOFTBALL AND RAWLINGS BRAND GLOVE BELONGING TO ROBERT FRANCIS WALLACE. COLLECTION 9/11 MEMORIAL MUSEUM, GIFT OF NANCY WALLACE, ELIZABETH WALLACE, AND LIZA YONUS. PHOTO BY MICHAEL HNATOV.

A second-generation New York City firefighter and recipient of two commendations for bravery, Lieutenant Robert Wallace worked at Engine 205 on Middagh Street in Brooklyn Heights. Off duty, his “uniform” turned casual: usually, a well-worn pair of cutoff jeans, a denim jacket and a favorite T-shirt suitable for pick-up games in the backyard softball field that graced his home in the Queens neighborhood of Woodhaven.

A devoted father, Robert, who went by Bob, often served as motivational coach and catching partner for the Wallace “team,” consisting of four children and various nephews and nieces. Under the nickname The Hawk, Bob also played outfield for his firehouse on a regulation baseball diamond. Countless games were logged by this favorite, worn leather wing-tip fielder’s glove, donated to the 9/11 Memorial Museum in tribute to Bob Wallace by his wife Nancy, his mother Elizabeth and his sister Liza. They paired it with a softball on which he had sketched funny faces, a revelation of his good humor and efforts to amuse his fellow family players.

The Museum’s current special exhibition, “Comeback Season: Sports After 9/11,” recognizes a range of sport—softball, among them—that victims of the 2001 terror attacks had pursued or were pursuing with avocational passion. Like 43-year-old Bob Wallace, the great majority of people killed on 9/11 were in the prime of their adult lives.

On Sept. 11, 2001, Lt. Wallace had been detailed to Engine 22 in Brooklyn’s Boerum Hill neighborhood and responded to the World Trade Center with that unit. While not in the immediate company of his Engine 205 and Ladder 118 colleagues when the towers fell, he is represented, in perpetuity, as one of the eight new stars shining over the downtown skyline in an eye-catching mural painted on the garage door of the Middagh Street Firehouse, in memory of the eight members of the firehouse who made the ultimate sacrifice on 9/11.



Digital photograph taken by Robert Carley in Brooklyn Heights, New York, 2005, depicting the Engine 205/Ladder 118 firehouse door.

This iconic if well-worn door was removed from 74 Middagh Street in late 2016. It has just found its new docking port inside the 9/11 Memorial Museum, having been installed last week as the most recent object rotating onto public view in the South Tower Tribute Walk.

By Jan Seidler Ramirez, Executive Vice President of Collections & Chief Curator, 9/11 Memorial Museum

https://www.911memorial.org/connect...t-and-backyard-softball-legend-robert-wallace



In Memoriam Sept 11
October 17, 2019



My Dad: Lt. Bobby Wallace

Born in 1958 in Midwood, Brooklyn my dad was a FDNY Lieutenant just like his dad had been before him. His grandfather was also a fireman in NYC.

My dad was appointed to the New York City Fire Department on January 9th, 1982.

He married my Mom and they had me, I'm 21, and my three brothers Bob 19, Dan 17, and Alex 13.

My dad was very proud to be a firefighter. He loved what he did. He was working even when he wasn't on duty, lending a hand to anyone in need.

He loved to point to the sky to make people stop and look up. When they looked up, he would walk away and laugh.

My father was a wonderful man and a huge family man. He loved being with us on vacation or taking my brothers and cousins to baseball games.

I just know that my dad wouldn't have wanted to die any other way. He would have been there even if he weren't on duty on 9/11.

I've never been more proud of anyone in my life.

Jeanine Wallace



Humor Against Adversity

Nancy Wallace remembers Robert, her husband of 21 years, for his wacky sense of humor and the way he took every little car breakdown in stride. And there were many. "We put three engines in it, and two trannies," she said of the family's Jeep Wagoneer. "Half the time we didn't make it to where we were going."

She remembers him trudging through the snow to buy baby aspirin when the family was stuck in a snowstorm in the early 1980's. And she remembered how after those babies had turned into teenagers, the whole family — their four children and a nephew — slept in the broken-down Wagoneer on the highway because nearby hotels were full.

Lieutenant Wallace, 43, followed his father into firefighting, and was known for pointing at the sky above Engine 205 in Brooklyn Heights, just to get people to look up, too. "My family used to tease him," Mrs. Wallace recalled, "and he'd say, 'No, I'm going off to fight fires and save the people of New York.' "We'd say, 'Oh, get outta here,' and he'd say, 'I'm going to go fight fires and save the people of New York.' "

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 30, 2001.

https://obits.pennlive.com/amp/obituaries/pennlive/118290















RIP. NEVER FORGET.

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


ENGINE 205 LODD


LIEUTENANT ROBERT WALLACE ENGINE 205 September 11, 2001




Fallen Firefighter Remembered With Love, Laughter And Tears

• by Kathleen Louis
• Nov 1, 2001

Lieutenant Robert Wallace, 43, Bobby to friends and family members, was known to look skyward while pointing up.

Notorious for his sense of humor, he did this for no other reason than to trick unsuspecting passersby into looking upward, too.

The hundreds who attended his memorial mass on Saturday at St. Thomas the Apostle Church in Woodhaven honored his memory by pointing heavenward in unison as their tears mixed with smiles.

After the service, the eyes of congregants lining the sidewalk along 88th Avenue were again drawn skyward as a covey of white doves was released into the sunlit afternoon.

Nearly a hundred firefighters in dress blues stood at attention in the crisp cool air as the mournful beat of muffled drums, accompanied by silent kilt-clad pipers, led the family of the slain Wallace down the street.

They were joined by more members of the Fire Department, who stopped between emergency calls. Police and other uniformed service personnel were also there.

All saluted the funeral cortege as it passed by. A lone bugler sounded Taps.

The only thing missing from the traditional scene was a flag-draped casket.

His widow, Nancy, and his son carried a tri-folded memorial flag in lieu of his body, which has not been recovered.

Nancy (nee Jencsik) was his childhood sweetheart. Their children are Jeannine, 21; Robert, 19; Daniel, 17 and Alex, 13. The family lives in Woodhaven.

Wallace was one of seven members of Engine Company 205 who were lost in the World Trade Center attack.

Although he had been temporarily reassigned to Engine 226 on September 11th, it was Wallace’s “second family” at the Brooklyn Heights station house who remembered him best.

“I never met anyone like him before,” said Firefighter John Sorrentino during the eulogy. “He was a great friend, brother and teacher, but always laughing and making everyone else laugh with him.”

Nicknamed “Wacky” by fellow firefighters, Wallace pasted a picture of himself next to the word in the station house dictionary.

To illustrate Wallace’s personality as a combination of silliness and generosity, Sorrentino related his friend’s daily breakfast ritual.

“Every morning, he’d buy a 99-cent pack of Hostess pecan swirls, put them on a plate with whipped cream and strawberries, saying ‘presentation is everything.’ Then Bobby would think nothing of spending $15 at Starbucks on coffee for his friends.”

Modest and matter-of-fact about his generosity was the way Gene Wallace described his brother, Bobby.

“One day on the way to work, Bobby saw an accident. He stopped and got out of his car. A cigarette with a two-inch ash was hanging out of his mouth and a cup of coffee was in his hand. He calmly pulled two people out of the wrecked car, got back into his own and continued on his way to work.”

Gene said Bobby never missed a party and would show up with a rose for all of the ladies and a dozen for his mom.

“He was a real joker. Bobby could mine a laugh out of the most miserable person,” his brother said.

Some of his more memorable practical jokes included hiding dirty diapers around the house after a baby-sitting stint and secretly taking down a friend’s Christmas decorations in the middle of the night.

“Bobby was a hero,” Gene Wallace said, through tears.

One definition of a hero is a person of outstanding courage or bravery. Another is a sandwich with many fillings. “That’s Bobby. He was filled with many good things.”

Father William Hoppe officiated at the memorial mass. He used scripture passages to describe the martyrdom of Robert Wallace and all firefighters like him. “He laid down his life so that others may live.”

Representatives from the offices of Governor George Pataki and Mayor Rudy Giuliani were scheduled to speak. Giuliani surprised the crowd by arriving himself.

He directed much of his talk to Wallace’s family. To his children, Giuliani said, “You’re some of those fortunate people who have a father you can be extremely proud of. Nobody can take your daddy away from you.”

To the firefighters, friends and family members who filled St. Thomas the Apostle Church, the mayor said, “You have to have the same courage Lieutenant Wallace had when he rushed to the World Trade Center attack.”

Giuliani described September 11th as an epic battle in the country’s history.

“They attacked us because of who we are and the freedoms we have. It was a direct assault on what our country stands for.”

He entreated the people assembled to feel proud of the freedoms that cannot be taken away from them, even as they’re mourning the loss of a loved one.

As the memorial service came to a close, Lieutenant Robert Wallace, himself the son of a FDNY lieutenant, was remembered by his fellow firefighters with laughter and tears as they shouted out the one-liners he was most famous for.

Several firefighters who arrived at the end of the service in their turnout gear and apparatus commented that “they’re all the same. The memorial services are all the same.”

They grew silent and still as, in unison, they saluted the family of their fallen brother to the slow and steady sound of the Celtic drum beat

Fallen Firefighter Remembered With Love, Laughter And Tears | South Queens News | qchron.com

 

[68jk09]

^^^^ Bob's Son is now a FF in 275.

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"

 

[mack]

^^^^ Bob's Son is now a FF in 275.

Thanks Chief.


FF Robert Wallace, Jr.












Tradition, Calling Draw New FDNY Recruits

January 17th, 2008
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It’s a calling from the heavens or an innate part of one’s being that makes one join the city’s bravest a testament several thousand family and friends witnessed Wednesday at the New York Fire Department graduation in Queens.

Nine of the 274 graduates are Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans; others come from a family tradition of firefighting, in which loved ones died in the line of duty.

“It’s a calling — something I have to do,” said Robert Wallace Jr., 25, whose father, Lt. Robert Wallace Sr., of Engine 205, died in the Sept. 11 terrorist attack at the World Trade Center.

“I know he’s here. I feel him,” Wallace said after graduation ceremonies in Flushing at Queens College’s Colden Auditorium.

Wallace, of Woodhaven, was 19 when his father died. “I was angry,” he said. But it reinforced his desire to become a firefighter, remembering his childhood visits to the firehouse and the camaraderie inside.

“I always wanted to follow in his footsteps,” said Wallace, who has a 10-month-old son.

Wallace said he focused on his father during the excruciating physical training at the fire academy on Randalls Island. “Every time I was training, I’d think about my father. We use to run and race together.”

Wallace said he wants “a good and happy life and career.” He is assigned to Engine 275 in Jamaica, Queens, and said he is looking forward to working with and being “around some good guys.”

Tradition, Calling Draw New FDNY Recruits - Firefighting News

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"






The Story Behind The 9/11 Photo Of A Doomed Fire Truck Heading Toward The Twin Towers


By Hannah McKennett
Published December 16, 2019
Updated August 20, 2020

Amateur photographer Aaron McLamb captured an iconic photo of Ladder 118 as it crossed the Brooklyn Bridge — not knowing that it would be the fire truck's last run.




The photo Aaron McLamb took of Ladder 118 racing toward the Twin Towers.


On September 11, 2001, Aaron McLamb had just arrived at his workplace near the Brooklyn Bridge when the first airplane crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.


Eighteen minutes later, he watched in shock from his 10th-floor window as the second plane tore into the South Tower. The 20-year-old ran for his camera to capture a devastating moment in American history.

“It was almost surreal being that high up looking at everything going on down below,” he told New York Daily News. “You couldn’t hear the crackling of the fire or the creaking of the buildings. The only thing we could hear were the sirens from the fire trucks going across the bridge.”

He then snapped an unforgettable photograph of the Ladder 118 fire truck speeding to its death, with the Twin Towers smoking in the background.


The Ladder 118 Team Before 9/11


Wikimedia Commons The firehouse on Middagh St., where the Ladder 118 team was stationed on Sept. 11, 2001.


On that Tuesday morning, firefighters were stationed at the Middagh St. firehouse, ready for action. Moments after the second plane crash, the call of catastrophe came. Firefighters Vernon Cherry, Leon Smith, Joey Agnello, Robert Regan, Pete Vega, and Scott Davidson jumped into the Ladder 118 fire truck and were on their way.

Vernon Cherry had been planning to retire at the end of the year. The 49-year-old had worked as a firefighter for nearly 30 years and had made a name for himself during that time. Not only was he one of few black firefighters in New York in 2001, he was also a talented singer.

Another man breaking racial barriers on the team, Leon Smith was a proud member of the Vulcan Society, an organization for black firefighters. He had always wanted to help people, and had been with the FDNY since 1982

Joseph Agnello was looking forward to celebrating his upcoming 36th birthday when Ladder 118 got the call on 9/11. He was a proud father with two young sons.

Lt. Robert “Bobby” Regan was also a family man. He had started his career as a civil engineer but joined the FDNY when his daughter was born in order to spend more time with her.

Like his lieutenant, Pete Vega didn’t start as a firefighter. Instead, he had spent six years in the U.S. Air Force, serving at Desert Storm before being honorably discharged. He became a firefighter in 1995, and in 2001 he had just completed a B.A. in Liberal Arts from the City College of New York.

Scott Davidson — the father of Saturday Night Live star Pete Davidson — began his firefighting career just a year before Vega. He was known for his humor, his heart of gold, and his love of Christmas.

The Infamous Photo


Photo by NY Daily News Archive via Getty ImagesNew York Daily News front page dedicated to Ladder 118. Dated Oct. 5, 2001.



At the same time that the Ladder 118 team was speeding toward flames, Aaron McLamb was pausing his work at a Jehovah’s Witness facility — where he printed Bibles — to watch smoke spreading across the city.

“At that point, we understood that it was some sort of intentional act,” McLamb said. “The big ‘t’ word (terrorism) was not on everybody’s lips then but it was understood that something deliberate just happened.”



Wikimedia Commons The terrible attacks on the Twin Towers, from a firefighter’s perspective.


The young man had grown up wanting to be a fireman, often stopping by the Middagh St. firehouse to admire the trucks, so he was waiting for the rig to make its way across the bridge.

“I remember telling one of my colleagues, ‘Here comes the 118,'” he said.

As it dashed past, he managed to capture the glint of red before it reached the city. Little did he know that this photo would come to represent the sacrifice of hundreds of first responders during the 9/11 attacks.

How Ladder 118 Met Its Fate


Mario Tama/Getty ImagesA firefighter breaks down at the scene of the fallen towers.



Without knowing it, McLamb had forever memorialized this team’s final run. None of the six firefighters on Ladder 118 made it out of the rubble that day.

After crossing the bridge, Ladder 118 pulled into the doomed Marriott World Trade Center hotel. The six firefighters ran up the stairs and helped countless panicked guests escape.


Bobby Graff, a mechanic at the hotel, was quoted saying: “They knew what was going on, and they went down with their ship. They weren’t going to leave until everyone got out. They must have saved a couple hundred people that day. I know they saved my life.”



Getty Images 343 firefighters died during the 9/11 attacks, including the six men from Ladder 118.



Ultimately, over 900 guests were saved that day. However, when the Twin Towers finally collapsed, the hotel went down with them. So did hundreds of firefighters, including the six members on Ladder 118.

All but one of their bodies were discovered months later, some lying only a few feet apart from one another. Because of this, Agnello, Vega, and Cherry were buried in adjacent plots in Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery.

As Joey Agnello’s wife said, “They were found side by side, and they should stay side by side.”

The Legacy of the Fallen Heroes


Richard Drew Another famous photograph from the 9/11 attacks shows a man falling from one of the towers.


A week after the attacks, McLamb brought a stack of his developed photos from that day to the firehouse. The remaining firefighters at the Brooklyn Heights location recognized the trademarks of Ladder 118.

“Once we realized it was ours, it sent chills down your spine,” said retired firefighter John Sorrentino in an interview with New York Daily News.

McLamb gave his photo to the New York Daily News, and days later it was plastered across the front page.

Like other famous photos from the terror attack on 9/11, the picture of the doomed fire truck now represents the patriotism and tragedy of that September day.

“They say a picture is worth a thousand words,” said Sorrentino. “I don’t think there’s any word that describes that picture.”

While many people have struggled with survivor’s guilt after the attacks, Aaron McLamb being one of them, those who knew the Ladder 118 team have found a way to remember them.

At their old firehouse, the duty board has remained untouched since that September morning, the names of the six men still written in chalk next to their assignments.

Their portraits have also been hung, alongside Robert Wallace and Martin Egan, two other firefighters from that firehouse who were killed that day.

Saturday Night Live star Pete Davidson, who was only seven years old when his father Scott Davidson died, has a tattoo of his dad’s badge number, 8418.

As Sorrentino said: “What happened that day will never be forgotten. And those men will never be forgotten. We won’t let that happen.”


The Story Behind The Famous 9/11 Photo Of Ladder 118 (allthatsinteresting.com)

 

[mack]

ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"








Honoring Our Heroes of Middagh Street Ladder 118/Engine 205 – Never Forgotten

by Mary Kim on September 11, 2019 6:14 am in 9/11, Brooklyn Heights, History

The following is courtesy of Bonnie Burke who shared the vignettes she wrote shortly after 9/11 about the firefighters from Ladder 118/Engine 205 who sacrificed their lives on that day. May our heroes never be forgotten.

Captain Martin Egan



Captain Marty Egan, a 15-year veteran of the department, was only 36 years-old when he died and had recently been appointed to captain. “It’s not unknown for one so young to make captain, but still a rarity” said Tony Carbone, a fellow firefighter. Marty progressed so fast, according to Carbone, “because he was whole-heartedly a fireman and a student of the department. He was also one of the most talented guys we ever had in terms of his physical ability.”

What made Marty Egan such a great captain, according to firefighter Danny Lopez, was that “he was very bright, he had a great rapport with the guys, and he knew his stuff.” His men would follow him anywhere, Lopez continued, “because he wouldn’t ask them to do anything he wouldn’t do, and he would go first. If he was taking a probie (a probationary firefighter) into a dangerous situation, he’d have the probie hold onto the back of his jacket.”

“He was a very hands-on guy and he made it fun,” Lopez added. “There were daily verbal sparring sessions with Scott Davidson, affectionately known as ‘The Scott and Marty Show.’ He’d never pull rank on you like that. It wasn’t like dealing with a captain.”

Marty attended St. John’s University, but used to joke that he graduated from UCLA – that is, he grew up on University, corner of Lincoln Avenue in Staten Island. Marty never missed a St. Patrick’s Day parade. He left behind two children, Kerry (3 at the time) and Sean (4 at the time), and his wife Diane. On September 12, 2001, as Carbone was working rescue at ground zero, he spotted a message written in the dust on the marble wall of the World Financial Center that read “Marty Egan call home, your family loves you.”

Lt. Robert Wallace



Lt. Bobby Wallace, months away from his 20th anniversary with the department on 9/11, was a true original. “He was an excellent fire officer,” John Sorrentino said. “You would trust him with your life.” Bobby was a joker, but “when it came time to get serious, he was as serious as they come,” said Jim McAlevey. Sitting around the firehouse kitchen, the men recalled how Wallace’s drills usually began. “Big fire, big hose; little fire, little hose; black smoke, bad; white smoke, a new pope.”

At the firehouse, Wallace was always full of high jinks. In the morning, he’d bring in pecan swirls (similar to Drake’s cakes) for breakfast for everyone as if they were a great culinary treat, recalled Danny Lopez. “Sometimes he’d put a little whipped cream on them and announce, ‘Presentation is everything!'”

Wallace left four children, Jeannine, Robert, Daniel, and Alex (21, 19, 17 and 13 at the time). He was also in the process of reuniting with his wife and childhood sweetheart Nancy. Wallace was devoted to his kids, coming to work everyday with a list of things he had to do to care for them. He was constantly on the phone with them, making sure they were doing what they were supposed to do. When he was home, he was always cooking, enough for his brood and the neighbor’s kids too, since they were always over.

Lt. Bobby Regan



When Lt. Bobby Regan pulled an unconscious man out of a raging apartment fire on Clinton Street a couple of months before 9/11, he should have gotten a medal. But when Regan wrote up the report, he shared all the credit with his team. “The chief told him to rewrite the report so they could give him his award, but he never did it,” said John Sorrentino. “He was so unselfish and unassuming you could be deceived into thinking he wasn’t that skilled,” Tony Carbone said. Lt. Pat Abatangelo said he never knew Bobby had a civil engineering degree from Manhattan College. “A lot of us just don’t want the corporate world,” Abatangelo explained. “He was a great guy. We had eight officers with very distinct personalities here, yet we all meshed. We did whatever we had to do to run the ship smoothly, and had fun doing it.”

Bobby was a great family man too. His widow Donna said, “On 9/11, when he didn’t call home, I immediately knew he was missing. He always called home.” He talked about his daughter Caitlin (16 at the time) with great pride all the time. He and his son Brendan (12 at the time) shared a great love for New York sports and were rarely apart.

Vernon Cherry



Vernon Cherry, a 28-year veteran firefighter, was the official singer for the Fire Department. If he had survived, he would have sang at every benefit and service that followed 9/11. He had started out singing as a child at “Showtime at the Apollo,” when he appeared on the same card as the Jackson 5 before they became famous.

When Vernon started with the department, he worked for some of the busiest companies in the city, first for Engine 283 in Brownsville, then for Engine 249 in Crown Heights. “He’d go to several fires a night,” Jimmy Mangracina said. “He’d tell us stories of people trapped or hanging out of windows. That was the job.”

As talented a firefighter and singer as he was, Vernon got his share of ribbing at the firehouse. “Vernon was famous for renting one video worse than the one before for us to watch, and he always said it was the greatest movie he’d ever seen,” said John Sorrentino. Vernon loved to collect junk too, to bring to the firehouse and his own home. “And no matter how far around the block his wife threw out that junk, he would find it and bring it back saying, ‘Look at this great thing I just found!'”

Vernon posthumously became a grandfather on September 14, 2001.

Leon Smith



Leon Smith, a 19-year veteran of the department, had many nicknames – “Express” or “The Chauffeur” because he drove so fast; “Physical Lee” because he was built like a rock; and “Stone Hands” because he had huge hands. “At 6’5″, if ever a man was built to take on the Trade Towers…,” said John Sorrentino. He had the biggest heart too. “He’d come off a 24-hour shift, then go straight to help someone whose car was busted. He was the neighborhood mechanic,” said Jimmy Mangracina.

“Leon loved people,” his mom Irene Smith said. “His motto was ‘If I can help one person, my life will not have been in vain.'” She recalled that when he was only ten, he gave his coat to a friend who had none. “I have 3 coats,” he told her. As a child, Leon always knew he wanted to become a firefighter and his mom couldn’t keep him from hanging out at the local firehouse. In the year before 9/11, his mom had urged Vernon to retire, but he replied, “I have 3 girls to put through college. Maybe then I’ll think about it.”

Joseph Agnello



Joseph Agnello, an 8-year veteran, distinguished himself in his first days at the department by ringing the wrong bells, hence earning the nickname “Joey Bells.” While the other guys at the firehouse were rambunctious, Joey was quiet and reserved, a “low-key, stay-at-home kind of guy,” recalled Tony Carbone. He was generous and willing to do anything to help someone. When he achieved his dream of buying a beach house in the Rockaways, he always made it available to any of his fellow firefighters.

At the firehouse, Joey spent every spare moment studying for the very technical lieutenant’s exam so that he could provide better for his family. He had received a commendation for meritorious service and was soon to be promoted, but he had planned on taking the exam again to improve his score. “He never sat still,” Carbone said. ” He was one of the best students we had and there was no doubt in my mind that he was going further.”
Joey left behind his wife, Vinnie Carla Agnello, and sons Salvatore and Vincent (3 and 1 at the time). Also, his two boxers, Chelsea and Durante, that he loved so much, he kept a map of hotels that accepted dogs for whenever the family traveled.

Scott Davidson



No matter how dire a situation or somber an occasion, Scott Davidson, 7-year veteran, could be counted on to say something completely unexpected and hilarious to break the tension and lift everyone’s spirits. Descriptions of Scott’s humor range from “unprintable” to “off the wall” to “he was into shock value,” but all agreed it always took you by surprise and was absolutely hysterical. Scott had a knack for speaking the unspeakable. When an official came and launched into a mind-numbing speech, Davidson would speak right up decorously thanking the official for taking the time to come by and pay them a visit.

Scott had a million friends and when he started at Ladder 118, many chiefs and officers called saying, “Please look out for my buddy.” At the memorial for the lost heroes, John Sorrentino eulogized Scott and said, “Scott had big cajones. What he didn’t have was his own clothes. Nothing. Nada. Zip. His goal was to complete his career without ever going to the quartermaster store. He wore Leon’s clothes. Once he avoided Kevin for three weeks because he was wearing Kevin’s new boots.” Sorrentino joked that in heaven, Scott would be wearing Leon’s halo.
Scott left behind his son Pete (8 at the time) and daughter Casey (4 at the time).

Peter Vega



According to his fellow firefighters, Peter Vega was passionate about everything. “He was a voracious reader of all kinds of subjects,” said George Clancy. He was also known for leading long, animated debates at the firehouse. Pete had also served in the Air Force and seen the world before joining the department. But at the top of his passions were family and firefighting.

Pete met his wife Regan Grice-Vega, a teacher at PS 372 on Carroll St., at a neighborhood bar. It didn’t take long for him to realize she was the one and propose to her via the scoreboard at a Knicks game with the words, “Regan, I love you madly. Will you marry me?” They had a 13-month-old daughter, Ruby, when Pete died a hero. “The thing that always struck me about Pete was how dedicated he was to his family,” said Jim McAlevey. “He used to ask me to come in early so that he could be sure to get home to take care of Ruby and let Regan get to work. Ruby is beautiful and looks just like her dad.” According to Regan, Ruby also loved to dance like her dad and would put out her arms whenever she saw a handsome firefighter with a moustache.
——–
Note: Bonnie’s vignettes were condensed and lightly edited from their original versions. All photos (except the lead photo: by Mary Kim) accompanied the original published versions.


Honoring Our Heroes of Middagh Street Ladder 118/Engine 205 – Never Forgotten | Brooklyn Heights Blog

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1899 - ENGINE 5 RENUMBERED ENGINE 105





1900 - ST GEORGE HOTEL - ENGINE 105 (205) - FIRE TEST W/CHIEF CROKER

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1901 - JAY STREET FIREHOUSE ALTERATIONS FOR LADDER 68 (118) AND WATER TOWER 6









1901 - ENGINE 105 (205) ACCIDENT





1901- FIRE - ENGINE 105 (205)

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS

1901 - FIRE





1901 - FIRE





1901 - LADDER 68 (118) MEMBER DEATH

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1904 - FIREMEN ON TRIAL





1904 - FIRE IN CORONER'S OFFICE





1904 - LADDER 68 (118) FF SAVES BOY

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1909 - RESTAURANT FIRE - ENGINE 105 (205) TENDER ACCIDENT W/TROLLEY



FULTON STREET TROLLEY


ENGINE 205 TENDER




1910 - BASEBALL GAME - LADDER 68 (118) BEATS NYPD 152ND PRECINCT



New Lots Oval - semi-pro baseball field

New Lots and Rockaway Avenues.

Also known as New Lots Field, Taft's Oval Picnic and Baseball Grounds, Forester's Oval, Crown Oval, East New York Field (II), and East New York Oval (II). The address was often given as Church and Rockaway Avenues, since the boundary between Church and New Lots Avenues was then somewhat nebulous.



BrooklynBallParks.com - Other Semipro and Amateur Parks (covehurst.net)


1911 - LADDER 68 (118) MASCOT - MAC

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1915 - ENGINE 205 CAPTAIN PROMOTION TO BC




DEPUTY CHIEF JAMES HEFFERNAN


New York City Fire Museum

June 20, 2019



The object pictured is a Heffernan Distributor. Invented by FDNY Deputy Chief James W. Heffernan in 1926 as a tool to fight fires in the cargo holds of ships, it was also useful in extinguishing flames in basements and other confined spaces.

This tool is a giant weighing about fifty pounds and containing six smooth bore nozzles equally distant but about 7 degrees apart in a vertical plane. The nozzles can cover an area of 14,400 square feet and discharges about 1,200 gallons per minute at a pressure of 175 pounds. It is used with two 3-inch lines from high pressure or from pumping engines or with one 3 1/2-inch line from a fireboat. Two nozzles of 5/8-inch cause it to revolve and these can be regulated as to the speed of the distribution.

Fire Commissioner John J. Dorman awarded Deputy Chief Heffernan the Administration Medal for the year 1926. This medal is awarded annually to the member of the Department who makes the best and most progressive suggestion or recommendation for the good of the service during the year.

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1917 - JIGGS - THE JELLY BELLY FIRE DOG OF BROOKLYN'S ENGINE 205



Posted: 13th April 2015 by The Hatching Cat in Dog Mascots, FDNY Horses/Mascots



Paunchy with good living and good fellowship with chefs and motorists, it should be beside the fireside rather than inside the fire line for Jiggs.” Brooklyn Standard Union, August 25, 1923

“Jiggs was the dog who started out as a lithe, slim pup who ran yelping and barking just ahead of the three beautiful horses that pulled old “205.” But Jiggs fell into evil ways. He became a connoisseur of Borough Hall restaurant kitchens. A gourmet.

“Things came to such a pass that Jiggs fell down on his job of leading the fire engine. He grew to the proportions of a Shetland pony . . .” –Brooklyn Standard Union, 1929, article about the fire dog of Engine Company 205

When 8-year-old Jiggs died on September 14, 1925, he was called “Brooklyn’s fattest dog” in his “obituary” in The Brooklyn Standard Union. You see, Jiggs had a bad habit of making the daily rounds at the Brooklyn Borough Hall restaurants, and when he died, he tipped the scales at 121 pounds.
It wasn’t his weight, though, that killed him. Jiggs was “humanely dispatched” by the Brooklyn SPCA because he had reportedly become a grumpy old man in his final year of retirement.

A St. Patrick’s Day Puppy

Jiggs was born on March 17, 1917, and presented to Engine Company 205 in Brooklyn Heights on Memorial Day of that year. Right away, he bonded with 39-year-old Engineer Thomas J. “Smoke” McEwan. Over the years, he rarely left his side.



Although Jiggs would answer to any man in uniform who gave him orders, he would only follow Smoke McEwan. The two were inseparable. If you saw Jiggs anywhere downtown, you could bet Smoke wasn’t far away.

Jiggs also took a liking to Bum and her kittens. Bum was a Brooklyn aristocrat and the long-time mascot cat of Engine Company 205. Her mother had been found cold and starving on the street near the firehouse on Pierrepont Street in 1909. Bum and all her siblings stayed in the neighborhood, but only Bum was lucky enough to get a permanent home at the fire station.

Jiggs was quite hyperactive in his youth, and would bark and jump around like crazy whenever the gong rang for a fire. Bath time was also a struggle for Smoke and fireman Frank Wolf, but somehow they managed to bathe Jiggs four times a week.

Sometimes young Jiggs would get a little too friendly or too ambitious. Once he tried to make friends with one of the horses and got booted through a rear window. Another time he broke his leg while trying to slide down the pole.

[IMG alt="Steam Engine Company No. 5, Brooklyn Heights
Later, Brooklyn Engine Company 205"]http://hatchingcatnyc.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/engineno5.jpg?w=300[/IMG]



Engine 205 was Brooklyn’s oldest, most famous, and most influential fire company. It was organized as Steam Engine Company No. 5 on September 15, 1869, by young, upstanding men from wealthy families of downtown Brooklyn. The company’s first firehouse was located at 160 Pierrepont Street.

Jiggs Meets Chef Martin

During those first few years as a fire buff, Jiggs never weighed more than 71 pounds. He was fast with the horses and always present on every call, no matter the size of the fire or incident.

But then he struck up a friendship with John Martin, a chef in Joe’s Restaurant at the corner of Fulton and Pierrepont streets. John couldn’t help but give the dog a few treats every day, and with a menu that listed over 400 food choices, there was plenty to go around for Jiggs.



Joseph Balzarini and Joseph Sartori, both Italian immigrants, opened Joe’s Restaurant in 1909. Located just around the corner from Brooklyn’s insurance, political, and financial hub, it was the place to go for politicians and brokers as well as families and fire dogs. The building was demolished in 1959; today this is the site of 1 Pierrepont Plaza, the 2016 presidential campaign headquarters for Hilary Clinton.

After meeting John Martin, Jiggs discovered other friendly chefs at nearby restaurants. Chefs encouraged the dog to eat and often bragged about the fact that the famous fire dog preferred his restaurant kitchen to another.

No Diet and No Exercise

Fire dogs are tough but they have three enemies: accidents, colds and overweight. The last is the worst. Now that the days of running to fires with the horses are gone they need to watch their figures, and they have too many kind friends. — New York Sun, December 7, 1940



Another of Jigg’s favorites was the Clarendon Grill at the Clarendon Hotel, at 284 Washington Street (now Cadman Plaza East). This 1890 hotel, designed by Brooklyn architect J.G. Glover, replaced the first Clarendon, which was damaged in the deadly Brooklyn Theater fire of 1876. The Clarendon, the old Brooklyn Eagle building, and other buildings were torn down in the 1950s to make way for Cadman Plaza.

Jiggs couldn’t have become a canine epicurean at the worst time in the history of the New York Fire Department. Only 11 years before, Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo proposed motor-driven fire apparatus for the FDNY.

One by one, each company replaced its horses with motorized apparatus. Brooklyn’s Engine 205 was the last to relinquish its horses in 1922.
With the horses gone, Jiggs could no longer get his daily exercise. Refusing to be pensioned off and sent to a retirement farm, Jiggs tried running with the motorized apparatus a few times, but it nearly killed him. An overweight Dalmatian was no match for a motorized engine that could go 30 to 40 miles an hour.



On the morning of December 20, 1922, Fire Commissioner Thomas J. Drennan, Brooklyn Borough President Edward Riegelmann, firefighters, city dignitaries, and Jiggs gathered in back of Brooklyn Borough Hall to pay their final tribute to the last fire horses of Engine 205.

By 1923, Jiggs weighed 118 pounds. Twice the firemen sent him to an exclusive farm for canine reduction treatments, but both times he made his way back to Pierrepont Street. Then on October 12, 1923, Jiggs was taken to the Ellin Prince Speyer Free Hospital for Animals at 350 Lafayette Street in Manhattan to be treated for painful swelling in his right paw, which turned out to be gout.

Jiggs was reportedly put on a strict diet and did lose some weight over the next two months. But before long, when Smoke McEwan wasn’t watching him very carefully, Jiggs got back into his bad ways and was soon as heavy as ever.

By the summer of 1925, Jiggs was reportedly “fatter and lazier than ever.” He spent his days laying outside the firehouse sunning himself, and, as the firemen said, never partook in “any feminine activities such as dieting to reduce.” Captain Leon Howard told the press that the men never fed Jiggs – he fed himself – and that the fatter he got, the more he found to eat.



Jiggs howled in sorrow as his horse friends were bid farewell as Smoke McEwan tried to console him.



Jiggs was not a happy dog when Engine Company 205 was relocated to 274 Hicks Street in 1925. Today this 1903 landmark building is home to Engine Company 224.

In July 1925, Engine Company 205 was relocated to 274 Hicks Street. For Jiggs, Hicks Street was a long way from Borough Hall and all his favorite restaurants. Unable to adjust to the change, what Smoke once called “the best natured dog in the world” soon grew remorse and ill tempered.
That month, Jiggs nipped at a passerby who had reportedly kicked him in the paw. The man, 38-year-old Alexander Kyle of 78 Kingston Avenue, was treated at Long Island Hospital for a bite on the right leg. Jiggs was transferred to the pound in a wagon donated by the Brooklyn Standard Union (the distance was too great for him to walk), were he was detained for 10 days as authorities confirmed that he didn’t have rabies.

Upon his release from the pound, Jiggs was issued a silver-plated muzzle and a dog license. Fire Commissioner Thomas J. Drennan told Captain Howard, “Put him back on active duty. He will neither be fined nor his pay deducted. Jiggs is one of the best dogs in the history of the Fire Department.”

Apparently Jiggs didn’t wear the muzzle, because two months later, the men of Engine Company 205 had to call in the SPCA to “dispatch” their fire dog. He was reportedly snapping at many people, including children, and was a danger to the public. Sadly, Smoke was on vacation at the time, and the men were not able to locate him before Jiggs was put to death.

When Jiggs died in 1925, the old Engine Company 205 firehouse on Pierrepont Street died too. For some time, the 1869 building was used as a “parking space” for the mounted police, who would drop their horses off there when they went downtown for lunch or dinner. In the 1940s and 50s, the building served as the headquarters for the Kings County American Legion. Today, there’s a large office building on the site which houses Brooklyn’s Social Security Office.

These days, Engine 205 and Ladder 118 make their home at 74 Middagh Sreet. On September 11, 2001, both companies rushed over the Brooklyn Bridge to get to the World Trade Center. The men of Engine 205 arrived first, but most of their lives were spared when they had to carry the body of a fallen firefighter from another company to an ambulance a block away, out of the immediate danger zone. Sadly, Lt. Robert Walsh and Captain Martin Egan Jr. were also killed.

Lt. Robert Regan, Lt. Joe Agnello, and firefighters Leon Smith, Vernon Cherry, Scott Davidson, and Peter Vega of Ladder 118 were last seen running up the stairs of the Marriott World Trade Center Hotel to help the panicked guests. All six men were killed while trying to save others.



Ladder 118 lost six men on 9/11. Lt. Robert Wallace and Capt. Martin Egan, who used to work in the Middagh Street house but were detailed elsewhere that day, were also killed in the terrorist attacks.

1917: Jiggs, the Jelly-Belly Fire Dog of Brooklyn’s Engine Company 205 - The Hatching Cat The Hatching Cat (hatchingcatnyc.com)

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1917 -FIRE W/INJURIES




FIRE BUILDING 140 RAYMOND STREET





1918 - ENGINE 205 SHOVELS SNOW





1919 - EL FIRE




FULTON STREET ELEVATED LINE

The Fulton Street Line, also called the Fulton Street Elevated or Kings County Line, was an elevated rail line mostly in Brooklyn, New York City, United States. It ran above Fulton Street from Fulton Ferry, Brooklyn in Downtown Brooklyn east to East New York, and then south on Van Sinderen Avenue (southbound) and Snediker Avenue (northbound), east on Pitkin Avenue, north on Euclid Avenue, and east on Liberty Avenue to Ozone Park, Queens. The portion in Brooklyn has been torn down, but most of the line in Queens has been connected to the New York City Subway and is now part of the IND Fulton Street Line (a portion of the A and C), an underground line that replaced the elevated line in Brooklyn. The structure was the main line of the Kings County Elevated Railway, first opened in 1888.

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1925 - JIGGS FAT-SHAMED IN MEDIA





1925 - JIGGS BITES BACK

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1925 - FIRE - 4 DEAD





1925 - FIRE - LADDER 118 RESCUES BOY AND GIRL




FIRE BUILDING - 5825 5TH AVENUE





1925 - FULTON FERRY HOUSE FIRE




FIRE BUILDING - FULTON FERRY HOUSE

 

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ENGINE 205/LADDER 118 FIREHOUSE 74-76 MIDDAGH STREET BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, BROOKLYN DIVISION 11, BATTALION 32 “FIRE UNDER THE BRIDGE"


FIRES/INCIDENTS


1925 - FURNITURE STORE FIRE W/FF INJURIES





1929 - WATER TOWER BRAKES FIRE - MANHATTAN BRIDGE




WATER TOWER 6