Ah, Hook & Ladder 43... part of a three bay firehouse, built in 1913 to serve the newly populated Italian East Harlem. It was one of the busiest houses in the city from the day organized.
In the very midst of the War Years, summers of 1969 and ‘70, a young lad on leave from the US Army, I was privileged to be invited to roll with this house. Three companies, E91, E91-2, and L43, and later the 25th Battalion...a common kitchen, centered around the table that Babe Ruth had signed his first contract with the New York Yankees (it’s still there!), purloined from the old Rupert brewery that had been torn down just a few (1st due ) blocks away.
Invited by a a member of the crew, a good friend to this day, usually arriving at the beginning of the night tour. The price of admission was a case of Schafer, dumped into an ice barrel in the kitchen. But no $$ ever accepted from me for the meal to follow.
A fast one down and then the bells began to hit...12xx this, 13xx that...one engine, both engines, “ everybody goes! “...back in, grab a beer...back out...constant for the next few hours. At a good job, grab the line kid, follow us in...
The meal? always interrupted but always good. Then the cards came out, big $$ on the table.
What a great bunch bunch of men for a young kid to know. Lt Cassano, Lt “Koogie”, the Irish Mikes, Boland (L43s tillerman) and Prendergast (on the nob with 91-2) both with brogues off the boat and Bronx pub owners, Richie Driscoll, last year’s 200th casualty of Post 9/11, Bob Schildhorn, a later chief...and on and on. Like every other firehouse, heroic firefighters, then and now.
I have been back there over the years, the last to help with E91’s Centennial. It’s quiet now by comparison. Then, three raucous War Years companies. Now, only just one. In a three bay house. But the kitchen table, and the echoes, remain.