GLORY DAYS

[68jk09]

In regard to Johhny Gage's post in reply # 35 .... The Joe he mentions as the MPO who also was the Company UFA Delegate is a friend of mine Joe B. who also later became a LT back in his Company (88) ...Joe was also very Active in the UFOA & has 2 Sons OTJ who are Chiefs.... awhile back on EBAY i saw an odd old FDNY Badge it was the standard FDNY Maltese Cross but in the center where a Badge Number would be it had a double number & encircling it were the words "PROBATIONARY FIREMAN"...i had not seen one before & thought either it was a fake or maybe they had been used by probies while in school "way back when"...i posted the EBAY ad on a few FD related sites to see if anyone had some history on it....a poster Ret from LAD*6 who i had never met personally sent me a PM on The Rant & told me that he had no history on what they were but he did have one that someone gave him but it had a different number in the center than the one in the ad....he then told me he would give it to me for free....i did not really want to accept it.....but then i asked him what number it was & he said the number was 88....(you know where this is going) .....i told him i knew a well respected BROTHER who had been a longtime FF & LT in ENG*88 & i could give it to him .....he mailed it to me...it turned out soon after i received it we were having a get together at Maggie Mays (well over a hundred people) for 1st Deputy Commissioner Bob Turner (my friend & best mutual partner) & i knew Joe & at least one of his Sons were coming so i brought it there ....Joe B. did not know ....after Bob gave a little Thank You speech i took the floor & explained (to those that could hear since the sound system had failed) about the existence of at least 2 of these proby badges that i knew of & that someone had given me one...Joe was sitting there listening but not knowing about it & then i said the one that had been given to me was now being given to Joe.... he did not get why until i said the number was 88.....needless to say he was very excited to have it. .....this is one with a different number.... https://www.google.com/search?q=PRO...AKHcHICJcQ9QEwA3oECAkQCg#imgrc=wqXwpsUL3vgo8M:

 

[mac8146]

In regards to post 40 I too have a story of Joe B. I was a fireman in L-38 and was promoted in 1996 and had a friend at badge desk and was able to get badge #88 as a lieutenant, 38 was not available then. Year or two later Joe B. Gets promoted and while celebrating his promotion over a cocktail or two I mention my badge and offer to swap since he was in 88 his whole career and deserved it. So we make a lunch date and off we go to HQ and swap badges so Joe B now has #88. I get to look at some available badges and lo an behold #38 was in drawer, so I have had the pleasure of holding badges #88 & #38 as a lieutenant. FYI Joe B got me again a few years later when I had been covering back in the Bronx and was in 88 ufo when spot came up and I was informed it was going to Joe B so I took another assignment as Joe went back as Lt. In Engine 88.

 

[JohnnyGage]

WISDOM FROM A “WAR YEARS” LEGEND
Monterey Av and 180 St.

Every other street corner in NYC standing like a sentinel is a Red Fire Alarm Box mounted on a pedestal, they were part of an urban landscape as common as front stoops, manhole covers and lampposts. They were ornate, simple to operate, assuring and reliable. Anyone who needed emergency assistance knew by pulling the handle of the fire box, help was only minutes away. But the 1960’s culture flux these same guardians became a source of abuse and nuisance mainly in impoverished neighborhoods

False alarms, 10-92’s, were a recurrent daily activity for many City neighborhoods including the Belmont section of the Bronx. Triggering a false alarm was a short period of respite from an unexciting monotonous bland day. Merely yanking down the fire box handle precipitated the instant exhilaration of wailing sirens approaching from different directions, a cool distraction from the usual ho humness. Initiated during the War Years and into the Glory Days false alarms became the bane of the FDNY’s existence with unnecessary strain of manpower, apparatus and availability for local fire companies for actual emergencies.

I recall one night tour I was working with E 88 when we responded to at least thirty 10-92’s by midnight from a disgruntled character on a motorcycle who insisted on having fun with us. He selected three boxes in our first due area a few streets apart. On his dirt bike, he’d target one box, wait awhile and hit another a few blocks away, and then a third in similar fashion. This went on for hours. We spotted him once in the act and foolishly tried to pursue him with the rig down 187th Street but he was gone in a flash. That didn’t stop him either until he had enough entertainment by the witching hour.

One of the first times driving Captain “Tough Timmy” Gallagher E 88 a “ramp run” came in over the housewatch computer. A ramp run was when the nearby home box of another firehouse was pulled and we were assigned second due. In this case, the homebox to E 45 was activated. Depending on the company officer, sometimes we assembled and pulled the rig out onto the ramp and stood by awaiting for the usual quick “false alarm” transmission from the company.

Only Captain G did not believe in this custom. “Tough Timmy” was steadfast in his War Years experience and beliefs, and one of them was that when someone pulls that fire box, we give it our full attention without hesitation. Even if that fire alarm box is ninety nine percent of the time a false alarm. Tough Timmy did not believe in false alarms, there could always be that ‘one time’.

MONTEREY AVE AND 180 STREET

It’s New Year’s Day 1988, I’ve recently transferred across the floor from E 88 now assigned to L 38 and the junior man, so today my position is the ‘Can Man’, I carry a two gallon water pressure fire extinguisher and six foot hook. I’m one third of the forcible entry team working with the forcible entry firefighter and the Boss. The day tour is winding down and it’s about 3:30 in the pleasant chilly afternoon, we were returning to quarters after wrapping up a run of some sort in L 27’s area. Senior man Billy McDaniel has a box full of hats, scarfs and mittens, anytime we spot kids out and about, the rig stops and Billy hands out the gift. The kids are amazed and smile by Billy's altruism and goodwill.

Since it was the start of the New Year we decided to stop by the quarters of E 46 and L 27 to wish the Brothers a Happy New Year. For many years L 27 and L 38 were the only truck companies protecting the Belmont section of the Bronx and have a long history of working together. Since we were in the neighborhood, we’d stop by for a minute.

We are not there long exchanging pleasantries in front of the firehouse when L 38 LCC Tommy ‘Sidecar’ Sidorn sitting behind the wheel monitoring the radio notifies us over the handi-talkie in a casual voice; “38 has a run, Monterey and 180, first due”. A day does not go by that this “pull handle” Box 4791 does not come in, it’s a notorious false alarm box that sits on the corner of a dead end street in front of two large housing projects. This fire box comes in several times a day, it is our number one nuisance box. We hustle to the rig as the tones for the same Box echoes in E 46 quarters, they and L 27 will be right behind us.

We’re all aboard as Tommy shoots under the elevated Cross Bronx Expressway up Third Avenue and makes the right turn on 180 St. Immediately we notice a block away a man frantically waving to us in the middle of the street demanding our attention, as we get closer there are others excitedly yelling and motioning to us as well, they almost surround the rig. Something's up. Tommy stops the rig at the intersection of Monterey Avenue.

I grab the can and hook. The boss is Lt. Artie, he and I jump from the rig and follow the distraught residents who are running ahead towards the courtyard of the six story project. We’re running too and climb the short staircase into the project's spacious concrete courtyard. I notice what I assume to be a mound of outside rubbish smoldering. I think to myself, “all this excitement for outside rubbish?” Suddenly, the ‘rubbish’ begins to moan. I realize “Holy shit, it’s a human body!”. Examining closer, I notice the victim's clothes have been completely burnt off leaving the victims skin blackened and greasy with peeled pink patches of skin splitting open. There are only small slits for eyes, his lips are gone and his mouth is just an opening, that issues painful soft moans.

Instantaneously my senses go into a heightened awareness, the brain synapses firing rapidly trying to process this grotesque scene. I put my finger over the can nozzle, squeeze the lever creating a gentle fine mist and cool the body down. People observing the action from the upper floors begin throwing down blankets to aid the semi-conscious victim.

By now, the other companies have arrived and immediately start to assist the victim with oxygen and packaging. To my right I notice another victim. He is sitting up against a cement walkway a short distance away, L 38 Fireman Timmy Keller is administering to him. He is a young teenanger also burned from head to toe, especially his arms but most of his smoldering clothes are still on, however the front top of his sneakers and shoe laces have been completely burned off. EMS has just arrived and I’m the only other EMT at this point to make an assessment. With the first victim now being treated by EMS, I question the second victim who can barely speak but he mentions an additional name, there is a third victim.

The third victim is not accounted for and still trapped in the elevator, I relay this info to my boss. Our hands are full with these two victims and the boss directs the other companies on scene to head toward the elevators in the lobby for another victim.

The elevator is not in the lobby, yet the lobby is filled with a haze of smoke. Apparently the elevator car came down to the lobby as a fireball, the door opened briefly for the two victims to bail out, then closed trapping the third victim and proceeded back up to another floor. R 3 is on scene and identifies the elevator, the door is hot to the touch, discolored and severely buckled by the heat on the third floor landing. The hurst tool is started and the jaws placed to force the door open, the horrific remains of the third teen are discovered curled in a fetal position in the corner along with the charred remains of a blackened Christmas tree.

A resident standing nearby finally comes forward and tells us he saw the three teens bringing down a Christmas Tree in the elevator, he wanted a ride down with his bicycle in the elevator but there was no room. While he waited for the elevator to return he said he heard an explosion. The second victim informs us one of his buddies was playing with matches and lit the tree on fire as a prank, he survived but the other two teens died. Captain Tim Gallagher’s words of wisdom were validated, this was that ‘one time’.

Thanks for reading. KMG-365




Monterey and 180 St. "Monterey Project" courtyard...right rear



Two teenagers died. One in elevator at scene, the first victim I encountered, two days later.









JohnnyGage on right....Proby FF on left is George F. From E 48 (He would go on to be a super fine Lt in E 24 and Capt of L 29, now retired) Photo by Matty Daly

 

[8060rock]

This 6th alarm fire in B'klyn, fire in the cockloft, brings to mind another short story.
E80/L23 are at a multiple in Harlem, people were pretty tough back in those days, sometimes you had problems trying to get them to leave the building. At this particular top floor fire in a "h type", the cockloft is going good, threatening to jump the throat, we're on the top floor with our handline - 23 has been pulling ceilings - we bring our line into this apt. where there is a little old lady, doesn't wanna leave - her apt. is immaculate, unlike most others on the top floor, probably in the b'ldg.. Makes you feel badly for what's about to happen here - we're telling her that she has to go and she's arguing, but finally she's convinced it's time to go, but before she leaves she comes out with a classic line - she says to the guys from E80, standing there with a charged line "you squirters ain't so bad" then looking over at L23, with their 6' hooks "but them sons a bitches with them wrecking sticks ain't no good at all". We almost fell over laughing, sorry to say that her immaculate apt. was indeed destroyed. Wondered back then, what ever happened to that poor little old lady, possessions/home gone. Same thing is happening today in B'klyn. Some things never change!

 

[manhattan]

This entire site has to be edited into book format.  Remember -  you heard it here first!

Outstanding professions, callings and story-telling, everybody!

And special recognition to the Bendicks and our two unflagging moderators who never waver in their duties for all the work they do - Bravo Zulu!!  (Willy - did I say that the way you wanted?  If so, you owe me a Big Mac, fries and shake.  Yeah, I know - I'm easy but I ain't free.  After all it's New York.)

Seriously, thank you to everybody..

 

[JohnnyGage]

TOUGH TIMMY; Part 5
'LEAPFROG'

Roll call on Belmont Avenue was different from other companies I found out later. Most companies announce ?Roll Call? and members drop what they are doing to assemble in front of the apparatus, where the riding positions are assigned and any newsworthy memo is conveyed to the crew. Somewhere along the line E 88 and L 38 did away with the formality unless a Chief requested a Roll Call.

Working with a senior crew, these masters fell into the role, nozzleman, back up, door and control. They have done this hundreds of times before, E 88 was a well oiled machine...there was no need for the boss to ?assign positions?. The first member to the back step became the nozzleman, the next guy to the hose bed in effect became the back up and so on. On the rig, the senior men sat on the door in the rigs cab where they would be first off the rig and naturally first to the back step. If either senior member  wanted the nob they had it.

Being a ?Proby? I had to sit backwards in the jumpseat with my back either to the officer or ECC. Even with a couple of years on, the challenge for the nob was difficult. But as time pressed on, if we pulled up to a vacant, the senior man would give me a shot on the nob. On this one particular occasion with the boss, ?Tough Timmy? I would learn the skillful tactic of ?vacant building fire fighting?. This fire attack was done during the war years, now  it has become a forgotten evolution in today?s fire fighting tactics.

In one of my first TT articles about riding the ?Back Step?,  TT  told me and Frankie if we ?get anything (fire) on the first floor of a vacant? he wanted us to ?run in the booster?. This was a common practice during the War Years, to get water on the fire quickly. Yeah, I knew better, but I was going to take my lumps and not disobey his order...oh yeah, and no mask (SCBA). TT had a ?no mask policy? and did not want you hopping off the rig and delaying the stretch while donning your mask, especially if you were the nozzleman. He wanted that line stretched and in operation pronto. (I made up my own policy when I was working with TT;  on vacants I would not wear a mask, on an occupied structure I would, but bury it as soon as the fire was knocked down, if not sooner). TT taught me not to rely on the SCBA, I took my lumps, but in the end...he made me a better fireman, just by that.

I never saw TT with a mask, nor boots, whether the fire was a vacant or occupied structure, it didn?t matter, for him no mask, nada. Except; once when we had to go to the ?Rock? for training and the instructors would not let him get away without wearing the mask while we had to perform a certain evolution. He pulled the mask off the rig and  made like he was fumbling with the straps, getting tangled, ?is this where the strap goes, Johnny??  It was comical, he was putting on a show, he was a gem! The instructors were very patient, they knew better. TT was respected.


Back to the forgotten tactic for vacants. There were actually two tactics, the first, ?Clorox Bottle stretch? is still used. The boss would head to the floor below the fire with a ?cut out clorox bleach bottle? containing cotton laundry rope coiled inside, plus all the guys except the controlman who would stay behind. The controlman and ECC would watch the windows for the officer to appear, the officer would hold on to one end of the rope that had a brass clip tied on and drop the bottle to the ground deploying the rope where there was another tied on brass clip. The controlman would loop the rope unto the nob and the rope then hoisted to whatever floor to be pulled in, tied off and stretched. The line in position was then charged. It was a quicker stretch than going around stairwells that usually were not in good shape.

The second tactic was called the ?Leapfrog?. This was an organized attack by two engine companies before the tower ladders had a chance to set up. I remember E 88 came in second due to a typical six story brick pre war vacant apartment house on Vyse Avenue, four complete floors were showing fire. E 45 ?Eagles?, first due, were moving in on the ground floor. E 88 stretched to the second floor, I was the back up, right behind TT and the nozzleman Jimmy Sideron. Jimmy is a 20 year fireman of Greek heritage, he is a Navy vet, and as his last name portrays ?he is a man of steel?. E 45 is knocking the fire down and we have our hands full with the same heavy fire condition. The three of us move steady and swiftly through the apartment, I?m duck walking, the Captain and Jimmy, the old pros that they are, are standing erect. It?s difficult to see them above their knees from the smoke and steam. Jimmy stops briefly to spray water on his shoes (Jimmy does not wear boots, either like TT), his black navy style shoes literally begin to burn. Meanwhile, E 45 has knocked down the fire on the first floor and immediately back out,  and starts to ?leapfrog? us climbing the stairs to attack the fire on the third floor. Now with our apartment knocked down, it is our turn to do the same and muscle the line up to the fourth floor and repeat the process. This tactic elapsed maybe ten minutes and performed quickly and aggressively. I?m told E 88 and E 45 have done this many times during the war years. I was very lucky to be a part of this offensive tactic, it went smooth and deployed precisely. It truly was a work of  ?art?.

                                                                  ***********

Now TT was not too bad with you coming off the rig with a mask once you had a little time on the job. He believed that you should not solely ?depend? on the mask as a crutch. He wanted to make sure you got a good snootful, control your breathing and not panic. It was an old-school training tool. The same concept was employed at Proby school in the smoke house, it was a confidence building tool.

There were many more times I did get a good piece of the fire, especially when one of the senior members on the nob would need a ?blow? after knocking down a room with no mask at an occupied structure job.  I would have my mask on, grab the nob and finish off the other rooms. TT was ok with that.

TT, could be tough on the Chiefs! Many times he would not come out of the building until the fire was out, in his world, there was no such thing as relief or evacuating. There are plenty of stories where Chief?s would have to physically enter the fire building, order him and then ?follow? him out. In the street after a good snotty job, TT?s smiling white teeth would beacon, he carried a saline nose spray in his top left pocket and shoot the mist up his blackened nostrils. There was nothing more exciting than working a job with TT,  he loved the fire duty and couldn?t wait for the next one...



Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!  KMG-365




L-R, Jimmy S, Frankie B (Backstep story buddy), TT, Jimmy C (strongest and nicest man on earth), bottom row L-R, Good friend Marty (siren caper), Joe B (ECC), 25 year old Proby Johnny Gage with Pumpkin Patch on head.




Typical pre war apartments, now vacant. Vyse Av.

 

[JohnnyGage]

REMEMBERING VACANT BUILDINGS; P 1

Urban exploration; that is a term used today of people who like to explore abandoned properties such as farm houses, churches, schools even fire stations. I did not realize back in 1982 after being surrounded by block after block of vacant apartment houses this would become a modern concept over thirty years later.

As a youngster riding with Uncle Jack in Ladder 31 during the war years I was fascinated with the unusually large six-story multi-family apartment houses that lined the streets filled with life and vitality, it was exciting observing a different lifestyle from what I was accustomed to living in the suburbs. Laundry lines criss crossing courtyards and hanging out on window sills, people sitting on stoops and fire escapes, loud music coming from apartments, passing cars and bodegas, kids running around with no tee shirts on, fire hydrants splashing and making shallow pools in streets. There was a real vibrancy.

Most of these apartment houses were still occupied when I first began to ride in 1970, at that time the ?War Years? was beginning to steam ahead. In short order, many of the apartment houses were becoming vacant. I took notice of the changing demographics each time I came back to ride with Jack. The change of scenery and void of vibrancy was obvious as I observed street after street of these empty modern castles slowly decaying or burning.

During proby school our Squad took a field trip to a vacant apartment building in the Bronx,  it was the first time I was able to enter one of these spectacular buildings for ?overhaul training?. I was mesmerized. I found it fascinating looking at the remaining painted walls, some with weathered decorations and  thinking about the different families that used to live here, eat, sleep and call it a home. Sadly the likely future of this structure is about to become a memory with the help of a wrecking ball.

I recall after being assigned to E 88 when we held our company drills in these ubiquitous empty shells taking time to explore them. One time I grabbed another firefighter to come explore with me the remnants and remains of empty apartments on the different floors. Years of debris, peeled paint, glass and plaster would crunch as we walked down hallways entering the vast amount of hollow apartments. If you stopped and listened, you could almost hear the ghosts of the previous tenants talking and laughing.

Despite the damage, these still beautiful apartment buildings made from brick, wood, lathe and plaster featured beautiful baseboard and ceiling crown moulding, single pedestal bathroom sinks, tubs with ?claw feet? and beautiful herringbone parquet wood floors. These structures also featured solid wood doors with elegant glass crystal doorknobs and glass paneled pocket doors that would slide into the wall and pull out on coasters to separate different rooms instead of regular doors.

I was fascinated by the glass doorknob. The glass door knob was the preferred material used back in the early 1900?s, even more so prior to World War II as metal was needed for the war effort. They came in different shapes, mostly clear, but some had color added to the glass. Apartment houses built during these times were loaded with glass door knobs.

I found one laying among the rubble on the floor, it looked like a large diamond. I picked it up and looked it over, it was clear, not a crack or chip, very smooth and very refined. I held onto it and created a mission to find more of these little gems. I soon found out that even though there were probably hundreds of them at one time, they were scant. Unfazed, I continued the quest, hiking from apartment to apartment dragging my colleague determined to find a complete set still on a door that was undamaged. It was an urban ?Easter Egg Hunt?. Moving diligently from room to room I collected about a half- dozen sets or so, leaving the ones that were chipped or painted over behind. I thought that these little gems could replace the boring door knobs I had in my home.

My partner and I returned to the apparatus, drill time was over and we headed back to Belmont Ave. I showed TT my collection of the glass doorknobs. He got a chuckle out of my foraging and findings. Back at the firehouse, TT told me to follow him to his car, he opened his trunk and showed me a milk crate full of glass door knobs he collected over the years??add these to your collection? and handed me the crate.

Today, many new homes and condos have handle type levers to improve grasp. Yesterday's  glass door knob will become another memory of the Glory Days.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.  KMG-365

 

[8060rock]

The "TT" series is great reading JohnnyG - hope you can keep the memories coming. In the last part, JG mentions  "duckwalking"  - another quick story.

"Duckwalking" - I don't think I can remember more than a handful of times doing this maneuver, we were mostly advancing down on the knees.

Like it was yesterday - W147 St./Powell B'lvd. - fire out a few windows of a FP MD on a cold and windy winter's night. 69/28 1st due, 80/23 2nd due (pre-Barb days). Apt. door was left open by fleeing occupants, fire is like a blow torch coming well out into the public hallway. Ended up with two 2 1/2" lines off the standpipe side by side to push the fire back into the fire apt. Hallway was like an inferno and the water on the hallway floor was so hot that the guys who didn't duckwalk were scalding their legs - rubber boots and "dungarees" didn't do it in that hot water. For those that have no idea - duckwalking while advancing with a 2 1/2" handline is hard work made even more difficult when the water on the hallway floor is burning the legs - a number of engine guys were burned that night. I guess nowadays this would be a wind driven fire - back then it was just a really good job!

 

[68jk09]

^^^^ To add to Reply 147 above ....how about the old oval NYC Public School doorknobs with a "Public School #xxx" cast in the (brass?)  knob ? 

 

[68jk09]

Johhny Gage your new Frontpiece is in.... https://www.ebay.com/itm/Vintage-Cairns-Bro-Leather-Fireman-Helmet-Badge/323768752892?_trkparms=aid%3D222007%26algo%3DSIM.MBE%26ao%3D1%26asc%3D20131231084308%26meid%3Dc353229aa6524d59b139030344eee009%26pid%3D100010%26rk%3D6%26rkt%3D12%26sd%3D183767014512%26itm%3D323768752892&_trksid=p2047675.c100010.m2109

 

[JohnnyGage]

Johhny Gage your new Frontpiece is in.... https://www.ebay.com/itm/Vintage-Cairns-Bro-Leather-Fireman-Helmet-Badge/323768752892?_trkparms=aid%3D222007%26algo%3DSIM.MBE%26ao%3D1%26asc%3D20131231084308%26meid%3Dc353229aa6524d59b139030344eee009%26pid%3D100010%26rk%3D6%26rkt%3D12%26sd%3D183767014512%26itm%3D323768752892&_trksid=p2047675.c100010.m2109

Thanks JK, but me thinks something is a little fishy here... says "Vintage" and "used"...also no holes to mount facepiece onto helmet. Buyer beware!

 

[68jk09]

Yes never mounted.......there are a lot of fakes & put together stuff on ebay.

 

[memory master]

It's also too clean to have seen any fire duty.

 

[JohnnyGage]

It's also too clean to have seen any fire duty.

Very true, however...
I moved in with my new wife to Battery Park City early 1999,  our apartment view was to the east, from our 9th floor apartment I could see the southern half of WTC #2. (Used to marvel how they did outside window cleaning with a JWB in my hand from my recliner...) On 9/11 my wife left for work, I was headed to a Fire Tech study course on SI. Such a beautiful day, I left my sliding windows open about 3-4 inches. On my desk in front of the window is my first pre-chinstrap leather helmet with 112 frontpiece. I cleaned most of the carbon collection on the helmet, but left the ashen frontpiece alone. A reminder of my Bushwick Glory Days.

After the attacks my wife and I were not allowed back into our apartment (I did get in briefly to get clothes and valuables out that afternoon). Our apartment needed to have a thorough cleaning by a professional company paid by insurance adjusters. We were homeless for three weeks, but the very nice Leona Helmsley allowed us to stay "free" in the Park Lane Hotel on 56 St. (our insurance covered our stay).

Upon returning home at the end of September, every knook and cranny, countertop, knick knack, pot and pan was scoured, vacuumed and cleaned...including my helmet and frontpiece, both looked like they just came out of the box...But that was the very least of my concern and worries...I just thought about it after looking at the above posted frontpiece...

 

[JohnnyGage]

TOUGH TIMMY;  Part 6 
'THE INTERVIEW'

It?s a comfortable spring afternoon on Belmont Avenue and I have the 3x housewatch duty. Before I head to the housewatch I grab the days Daily News and make a fresh batch of coffee, pour myself a nice hot black cup of Joe before I head up to the housewatch and relieve the 12x fireman.

The journal is opened and in the middle of the desk with two Bic pens that are taped together laying in the binder, one pen is red and the other pen is blue. They are taped together in the middle and the ballpoints face opposite sides. Only officers are permitted to make entries in the journal with red ink, everyone else uses either blue or black ink. In blue ink I  begin to enter my entry, first in the ?time? column I jot; 1500 hrs. The next column I enter ?FR. Johnny Gage E 88 relieves Fr. De Soto on HW. Department PAQ (Property, apparatus, quarters) in good order.? I settle in and hit the ?DOOR OPEN? button from the desk console to enjoy the fresh spring air.

A few minutes pass when a nice looking well dressed young man about my age approaches the firehouse and walks up to the housewatch door where I am now standing. He introduces himself as a fireman from Queens and I welcome him into the firehouse and ask if I can get him anything. He proceeds to tell me he heard all good things about E 88 and wanted to speak with the Captain about transferring into the company. I told him the Captain was upstairs in his office, ?give me a sec? and through the intercom I notify TT he has a visiting fireman that would like to speak with you. ?Thanks Johnny, send him up? is the reply.

I turn back to my newspaper and coffee. A few minutes later there is a deafening slam of the Captains office door that reverberates down the pole hole and shakes my chair in the housewatch. I hop up and look towards the stairs leading up to the bunkroom and Captains office, at the top the young fireman grabs the bannister, he is visibly shaken as he walks towards me. It looks like he saw a ghost. I stop him as he walks zombie-like towards the housewatch where I comfort him and tell him to relax, ?take a second and catch your breath?. I inquire; ?What happened??

The young fireman tells me the interview was fine and that the Captain really liked him, up to the point when he told TT that he wanted to ?do a couple of years in the Engine and then ?s-l-i-d-e? across the floor to the truck?.

Nobody ?slides? across the floor to the truck and uses 88 as a doormat, especially on TT watch, TT biggest peeve.


Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!  KMG-365

 

[JohnnyGage]

VACANT BUILDINGS; P 2

We have just been relieved from a job this steamy summer afternoon, our yellow compressed  air bottles for our self contained breathing apparatus (scba) are depleted. We are out of service until we can exchange our empties for full bottles at the bottle depot located at ?Triple Deuce? E 222, and Battalion 37 quarters on Ralph Avenue.

After a few minutes replacing our spent bottles and replenishing our spare bottles we leave E 222 and travel a short distance south on Ralph Avenue and notice a vacant, pre-war three story brick school that has seen better days. From the back of the rig we tell the LCC John Gaymon to pull over for a moment. WE want to do a little ?Urban Exploring?.

The property is surrounded by a chain link fence and weeds, but we find a hole in it. We wandered from classroom to classroom, many still had blackboards with hints of old chalk lessons still readable, some classrooms had school desks and chairs piled up in corners. We were not sure how long the school was abandoned but it was in real bad shape. Up on the third floor we looked into classrooms that had no roof over them, the roof had fallen in years ago, the old wood floors were musty, moldy and damp.

After a short time, we decided we had enough and headed back to the rig. Back in the street I took a look at Tommy Hokey, ?Hey Tom, there?s a bug crawling up by your neck?, then I noticed another. Tommy lifted his shirt, there must have been a couple of dozen more scurrying around on his chest. Tommy pointed to me, ?Better check out yourself, too? he said. I did, and I too was infested with what we now realized were fleas, as were the two other members. We were all infested. LCC John Gaymon saw what was going on, ?don?t you dare get inside the rig, get on the backstep?.

We zipped back to quarters, the boss called ahead and had a big garbage can filled with water in front of the firehouse on the sidewalk waiting for us. We cast off our work clothes into the can, then sprayed ourselves down with the garden hose on the apparatus floor and ran upstairs to the hot showers in skivvies, much to the delight of the Engine members who enjoyed the performance.

That experience would satisfy my quest for any future adventures of ?Urban Exploring?.

   
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!        KMG-365

 

[JohnnyGage]

PROFILE; ?BIG LAR? 

Big Lar, Larry. Lieutenant Larry McCarthy, senior lieutenant in L 112. Larry was a big guy, not ?tall? big, but a big barrel chested jovial guy who was a bit of a prankster and instigator that sported a flat top crew cut and black plastic horned rim glasses. You could always tell when Larry was working, he only used the hi-lo siren on runs, his signature call. Being robust, Larry wore his turnout coat open.

When Larry laughed his shoulders and body would heave up and down. Everytime I worked with him he was in a cheery, buoyant mood. Larry was an ?old school? fireman in Ladder 120 during the ?War Years?, as some would respectfully call him; ?a Master?. Larry liked to remind us about his Glory Days spent on ?Watkins Street?,  with anecdotal accounts that always started with ?Back on Watkins Street??. Larry was proud of his time served there and he let it be known and, rightfully so.?Watkins Street? was and still is an elite top-notch firehouse that maintains a very honorable and distinguished history of membership.

During lunch I remember sitting opposite him as he meticulously deconstructed a BLT sandwich. With surgeon-like skills and precision he then rebuilt the sandwich; first, with just the right smattering amount of mayo on the rye bread, well maybe just a little heavier than a smattering, then layering perfectly aligned crispy bacon, topped with a light touch of lettuce and two red ripe tomato slices. He seemed very pleased and content taking that first bite, like a kid with a cone.

My partner tonight is Gene Hickman. Gene is the Outside Vent Man, I got the roof.  Larry always got a kick when we both worked and took pleasure calling us ?Ernest and Julio? much to his amusement. Tonight is a warm night and the rig is parked under the Broadway ?El? in front of one of the few remaining businesses in this area that escaped total destruction during the blackout. The business is a furniture store that has a water sprinkler break and is discharging water in a back room. The store owner is there and lets us in. Gene and I know the routine and we begin to head for the basement to locate the water sprinkler shut off. But Larry, for some reason is in a foul mood, he seemed angry and crabby since the beginning of the tour, we noticed this unusual behavior and gave him room.

?Where you two think your going?? Larry barks at us. We don?t need to be told, and simply reply ?To the basement, Lou, shut off the sprinkler system?. He turned and made a growly comment under his breath that we couldn?t hear. Gene and I headed to the basement and quickly located the OS&Y valve and proceeded to shut down the water to the broken sprinkler head above us.

?OK, you got it? came from the handi-talkie, but I could detect a little grumpy snarl as we closed down the valve. ?Hold on Gene?, I said, ?step back, I think maybe we should make sure we have the right valve and cool somebody down!?.  Gene knew where this was going, slowly, I reopened the valve, one quarter turn at a time, another turn and my handi-talkie exploded; ?CLOSE THAT G%# #&^% VALVE DOWN!?. Gene and I were besides ourselves laughing at the prank.

We took a minute to compose ourselves, then climbed the stairs back to the street, nonchalantly passing the rig to put our tools away. Gene and I can feel the stare coming from the opened front officer door where the big Boss is standing. He is pointing at us, only now with a sheepish big grin as his wet shoulders start heaving.

Larry was to retire later that year, and so we asked what he would like as a retirement gift and he mentioned a particular type of fishing rod caster that we presented to him.

Big Lar; Watkins Street ?War Year Veteran? and a very special Boss passed away not too long after retiring.


Hope you enjoyed! Thanks again, for reading.    KMG-365

 

[JohnnyGage]

4,000 views!...WOW! Thanks for reading, your comments are very appreciative... it has been fun writing and remembering these special memories, I look forward to sitting in my recliner after dinner recording them on here while being transported back to those Glory Days...Thanks Willy for allowing me to download my memoirs and relieve my smokin' coconut!... stay tuned, more crazy stuff on the way...KMG-365.

 

[nfd2004]

This is my favorite new thread. Its nice to hear these stories, especially now with the constant ?the job has changed? stuff....its a reminder that although we may have more issues with who gets hired nowadays, some of these stories could have happened my last set in. Same circus, different clowns.

Dan, aka "JohnnyGage", you began writing these stories less than one month ago, on March 24, and you have reached about 4,200 views. That's a lot by any standards we've seen here.

I think "bxengine" (quote above) speaks for most of us on how we feel about reading these stories.

These stories are NOT from some Hollywood fiction movie. But actual real life situations involving Real People.

Real People who presented their own True Character in living the life of some of the busiest fire companies in the city, maybe even the world.

Beyond the Show, these guys were True American Hero's. They were Role Models and Family Members. Being a part of that special firehouse family was a rarity that few in life ever got to experience. It was a Firefighter Brotherhood that went beyond any other. "I know that because as a buff, I saw that for myself". "Those guys were tight".

Thanks Dan for telling us these stories. Speaking for myself here, I sure enjoy tuning them in as the next chapter is played out.

As far as some guy named Willy having any "special hook" to get you on here. NOT really, "he just likes to think so".

 

[manhattan]

HEAR, HEAR!!

"Speaking for myself here, I sure enjoy tuning them in as the next chapter is played out."  Not speaking just for yourself, Willy; speaking for a great many of us and hitting the nail on the head as you usually do (unless, of course, you hit your thumb instead of the nail, but why bother going there...?)!!