Ever since I was a little kid, I can remember wanting to grow up and be a fireman. Then again, is there any little boy that hasn’t dreamed the same dream at least once? Probably not. Big, bright red trucks, hoses spraying water, a cool costume, shiny toys, lots of noise. It seems to consist of all the necessary elements for a boys ideal situation.
I was lucky growing up because dad was on the fire department. That meant I got to hang out there lots. It meant rides in the truck, it meant playing in his old gear, it meant hanging out at the hall sometimes. I remember getting so excited before our town parade every year. That was a guaranteed trip to the fall hall. I knew I’d go once to wash the trucks, and then I knew on parade day I’d get it ride in one.
It was inevitable, I suppose, that I’d end up on the fire department. Actually, I don’t think not ending up on the fire department was ever an option for me. I remember riding the trucks, but I knew one day I’d want to drive them. I remember watching the hoses spray water, but I knew one day I’d want to be the one holding it. All shiny toys carefully stored in the compartments of the fire trucks that were “lookie no touchie” were crying out for me to be old enough to finally play with them!
I’ve been doing it going on 10 years now. I’ve seen a lot, I’ve done a lot. Every time I climb into that truck, I still feel those butterflies of excitement like I did when I was a kid. That feeling of jumping into your gear, sitting down in the jump seat, and pulling out of the hall with lights flashing and sirens wailing, I don’t think will ever grow old for me. Actually, since I transferred to my new station a year and a half ago, it’s only got better for me because they do three to four times the amount of calls as my old station did.
Today I did a fire prevention event for a group of small children. They are something I’ve always enjoyed, because it takes me back to my childhood. I’m a little afraid of kids. They’re pretty small, you know. I’m always afraid of breaking one. Especially around the fire trucks and all that equipment. At the same time though, nothing melts my heart like seeing the joy in a little kids eyes while they’re bouncing around inside the truck or waiting for their turn to hold the hose.
Twenty five years ago, I was that kid. I was fascinated beyond the capacity of my vocabulary. What I couldn’t express in words, I communicated through pure joy. All I could do was stand there with my eyes as big as saucers, and my smile as wide as my mouth would let me. I ran, and bounced and skipped and crawled and explored everything with wonder. I wanted to sit in the drivers seat and put my hands on a wheel that was bigger around than I was tall. I wanted to wear the coat that swallowed me whole, leaving my head to pop out like a turtle. I wanted to pull the handle back and watch the water shoot from the hose like a cannon. I wanted to splash in the puddles that came after.
I smiled for 2 hours today. It made my face hurt. I’m sure a lack of sleep, and the hot sun may have been a factor, but mostly, it was the kids. All of them. The boys and the girls and watching them take in the wonder of it all. Each time I lifted one of them into the truck, my heart melted a little bit. Each time one of them reached out for me to bring them back down, my heart melted a little. Each time they touched my hand and pulled the lever on the nozzle with me, my heart melted a little.
The only thing better than doing what I did today, will be the day when I am “Firefighter Marc” and the parent too. That is the day it will have come full circle. The day it’s my little boy, or my little girl. Just thinking about that day makes me smile. And maybe my little boy or little girl will grow up and become a firefighter just like me, and maybe they won’t. Either way, I can’t wait for the chance to share it all with them like my dad did with me.
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