Hey! You!

This event happened years ago, going through my patch collection the other day reminded me of it.

******

We went mutual aid to the Tiny Fire Protection District, which was just down the highway from us. It was a warm summer evening, a good one for riding on the tailboard. I could see the smoke from my vantage point, the swirling dark mass rising into the twilight sky.

We rounded the corner and I could see that the Tiny Fire District was engaged. The paid engine and two volunteer engines all had hose lines off and another crew was laddering the building. The fire was well established in a shabby, old corrugated metal building that held a couple of specialty shops, a bar and a vacant suite.

As there was not much going on in Tinyville on that evening, the locals were out in force, standing across the street hurling insults at the Tiny F.P.D. Tinyville was (and is) a perpetually impoverished community inhabited by the working poor and a very large contingent of the permanent underclass. These folks never were reluctant to offer their opinion on firefighting techniques, law enforcement practices and social issues, usually in a very loud and expletive filled fashion. Tonight was no exception, it looked like things could get out of hand.

As we rolled to a stop, I stepped off of the tailboard when I heard the spring brakes set. I walked up to the cab just as the the captain closed his door. We were met by a captain from the Tiny F.P.D, who was shouting back at the locals.

It was then that I noticed a short, white man dressed in polyester pants and a golf shirt run across the front of our engine and toward the building. The man made it to the building and started frantically pulling on some plywood that covered one of the windows. I had seen enough. As the Tiny F.P.D. captain was ignoring this intrusion into our scene, I took it upon myself to restore order and shouted at him. "Hey! You! Get your ass back on the street!"

I was a little surprised when the man stopped what he was doing and walked toward us. Again, I kept waiting for the T.F.P.D. captain to say something to this guy, but again I was disappointed. Finally the man stood in front of me, glaring silently.

Finally, the Tiny F.P.D. captain found his voice. "That's our Chief" he said with an embarrassed grin on his face. 

Great.

The Chief never said a word to me, he just turned around, went back to the building and finished pulling the plywood off of the windows.

We received our assignment from the captain and went to work. A short while later I watched as the chief climbed a ladder to the roof, grabbed an axe off of one the firefighters and began chopping. I could tell it was the chief, as I recognized his golf shirt from earlier in the evening. He didn't have gloves on nor a helmet. 

I really don't remember how the rest of the incident went, other than the building ended up being a total loss. I halfway expected to get in trouble for yelling at Tiny's chief, but nothing ever came of it.

The Tiny F.P.D. was dissolved a few years after that. The district opted to contract with the county to provide service. The fire chief was the only Tiny F.P.D. member who didn't get a job with the county.

I ran into one of the former Tiny F.P.D. members a few years back. I asked him what ever became of the former chief. He told me that the chief has Alzheimer's really bad and is living in a con home.

Ever since I heard that, I can't help but wonder if the chief's actions on that night were an early sign that he was suffering from Alzheimer's.

In a way, I hope that they were.

Thanks for reading,
Schmoe