Tommy and I felt all around under the table. Couldn't make out what it was, so I reached for it.Ī table leg. I strained to see something through the smoke. Tommy and I searched every inch of the first two rooms. The blistering heat sucked sweat from our skin. Pieces of ceiling smashed down on our backs. One thing you don't realize about a fire until you're in one is how loud the sound is. The smoke quickly grew thicker until it was pitch-black. For me, for Tommy, for the child in the house. Trying to find Tommy if I lost him would mean a delay, possibly death. Every few seconds I reached out to touch Tommy or I felt him touch me. Please shield us from the flames and lead us to that child. Lord, I begged, please get those other firefighters here on the double. Curtains of fire ate away at the walls and ceiling. Steve yanked the garden hose from the neighbor and headed inside. Battalion Chief Steve Brown was on scene. Someone-a neighbor, I figured-stood in the doorway of the house holding a garden hose, a pathetic jet of water spurting in vain.Ī large man burst through the door, sputtering and coughing, red eyes streaming with tears. We wouldn't stand a chance without oxygen. "Do something, quick!"įirst Tommy and I had to put on our air packs. Advise all units: We have smoke this is a working fire!" Smoke billowed from the one-story house's open front door. A small crowd had gathered in front of number 907. The truck screeched around the corner onto Simpson. As the first on the scene, our job was to make sure everyone was out of the house, locate the nearest hydrant, then wait for backup.Īnd there was another backup. Tommy and I rolled in truck 253, siren ripping through the otherwise peaceful Sunday afternoon. "False alarm, maybe?" But it was more of a hope than an opinion. Tommy and I threw on our fire-retardant clothes and boots. "The rest of the guys will be right behind you." Another firefighter, Tom Smith, and the chief were waiting. We'd get to a house fire and find everyone standing outside in the yard, safe. I drove to the firehouse, all the while hoping it would just be a false alarm. Again the dispatcher's voice: "There is a child inside. I left my family on the front porch, ran to my car, jumped behind the wheel and took off. Maybe it's just a brush fire and they won't need me.īut the dispatcher's voice crackled: "Attention, Pocahontas-Old Ripley firefighters! House fire on Simpson Street. Just as we headed out the front door my volunteer fire-department pager went off. Then we'd leave for a car show the next town over. One of the presents my daughters gave me was a T-shirt emblazoned with the words "World's Coolest Dad." That was good enough for me.Īfter church I put the shirt on. Pastor talked about how God is a father who never lets his children down. We ate a big breakfast at a local restaurant, like we did every Father's Day.
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