Gary R. Ryman's Blog, page 26

From Chapter Three - My First Fatal

One weekend morning, I heard a call come in over the scanner for a motor vehicle accident at Route 26 and Carl Street, and begged my father to take me down to it. In those days, the fire department was not automatically dispatched on automobile accidents. Initially reluctant, he relented, and we drove over, much too slowly for me. Upon arrival, I saw a car with the front end smashed and wrapped around a telephone pole. Walking over, I saw a burlap bag over the driver's window. A man, a passerby it seemed, stood by the side of the car retching. As I approached the car, he said, "You don't want to look."

I know that, but I have to. It's my job now.

From Chapter Two - The Helmet

Dad moved up the ranks from firefighter to lieutenant, captain, and then assistant chief fairly rapidly. The transition from rank to rank differs little today. There's a helmet from back then that hangs on the wall in my office. I look at it daily as I sit at my desk doing paperwork, paying bills, etc. It's an old Cairns from the late 1950s. There's nothing unusual about it, other than the friction loss tables, which give the pressure loss through hoses at different flows, taped inside; not something most guys, then or now, would do.

It's mainly a soot-stained white. Close observation reveals it wasn't always that color. It's not like many helmets today where the color is injection molded into the shell. You can see the yellow below through some chips in the white paint; and the black beneath the yellow. It has definitely seen a fair amount of fire.

Back in the day, when firefighters made the rank of lieutenant, they didn't get a new helmet. They kept their old one and painted it yellow. A new leather shield with the title would be attached to the front. Moving up to captain wouldn't change the color, but a new front piece would come.

When the owner made assistant chief, the helmet was repainted again, this time white. The owner wore it for a number of years while in that position until it was ultimately replaced with a "modern" helmet. Safer, more impact resistant, the new helmet was definitely an improvement over the old from a fire ground perspective. It didn't have the same character, though.

The old helmet, if you found it in a flea market today, would probably cost you five bucks. It's nothing special, except to me. Mike seems to appreciate it as well.

It was my father's helmet.

From Chapter One - A Family of Firefighters

After that, Dad became an efficiency expert's dream. Clothes were carefully laid out on the bureau each night before bedtime. Keys, glasses, and cigarettes were strategically positioned. The most radical idea was yet to come: an automatic garage door opener. Those were unheard of in our neighborhood, but Dad took it to the next level. Most garage door openers, even today, have the button that activates them in the garage next to the car. That wasn't enough for Dad. He put an additional button in the closet in the bedroom which allowed him to hit the button while getting dressed. The garage door would already be open when he reached the garage, saving a good five seconds. A NASCAR pit crew would be impressed with his speed out of the house. When I was about eleven-years-old, we moved to a new house in a nearby neighborhood. One of the first things wired in was the activation button for the garage door opener in the closet of the master bedroom.

From the Introduction

I explained what had happened and that I was in the hospital.

"You burned?" Dad asked.

"No, but I'm not sure why," I answered.

"Are you going to call home later?"

"Yeah," I responded.

"Just be real cool when you do," he instructed.

Dad only worked about a mile from the house and usually came home for lunch every day. I figured he would tell my mother about it then. At about five p.m. that day, when the long distance rates changed, I called them. That's when I learned that he hadn't said a word to her. He wasn't stupid. He knew how she'd react.

She started yelling, "Your father's been doing this for over twenty years and this never happened to him." My "yes, but" answers weren't doing very well. I knew it was worry and concern on her part, but that wasn't making my explanation any easier. Over the next few phone calls, the volume went down but the butt-chewing continued.

Gary's Acknowledgments

This book could not exist if it weren't for the time and dedication of hundreds of firefighters. The stories herein are based on my best recollections and I have attempted to tell them as accurately as possible. There is no doubt that some participants may recall some aspects differently; any errors in that regard are solely mine. Names, with very few exceptions, have been changed and the stories are mainly, but not entirely, chronological.

Every firefighter will notice some incidents in which accepted standards and practices for safety and use of personal protective equipment are violated. They are related in this way simply because that is how it happened and they are not to be taken as an example of proper firefighting technique; as my son, Mike, regularly tells me–"You can't do it that way anymore, Dad."

I would also like to thank the Endless Mountains Writers Group (EMWG) and, in particular, Hildy, Marcus, Jeanne, Carl, Rob, Ann, Eleanor, Mary, Mary and all the other group participants.

I am also grateful to George Navarro for his assistance in locating photographs. The placement of the pictures throughout the book is random. A photo does not necessarily depict an incident described in the corresponding text of a chapter.

Read an Excerpt

Endorsements

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"This guy caught a lot of fire. Fire Men is a must-read around the firehouse. Gary Ryman is a master storyteller."

-Tiger Schmittendorf, Chief Storyteller, RuntotheCurb.com

"As someone who also comes from a multi-generation fire service family, I appreciate how well Gary Ryman captures his family's dedication and commitment to their fire department and community. Fire service families everywhere will relate to Gary's stories."

-Gary Keith, Vice President of Field Operations, National Fire Protection Association

"From the first page, Ryman hits the nail on the head. He provides a riveting look at the fire service as a whole, and the evolution of the business over the last three decades. Every fire fighter should read this. Old ones to reminisce, young ones to appreciate where we came from."

-Fred Bales, CFPS, CFI,
Pennsylvania Senior Fire and Public Safety Instructor & Past Chief, Greenfield Fire Company, Greenfield, PA

"I absolutely loved this book! It's full of adventure and suspense and family and friends and wrapping it all up with a great big bow is the complete dedication these fire fighters have. They truly are a breed apart and this book gives us a look into their extraordinary lives. What a terrific read!"

-Hildy Morgan, Executive Director, Wyoming County Cultural Center at the Dietrich Theater, Endless Mountains Writers' Group

About the Book

Having served over thirty years in fire departments across three states, Gary R. Ryman brings a unique perspective to the firefighting experience. The son and father of firefighters, Ryman ignites the fire, smoke, blood and fear spanning three generations of the "family business."

He recounts his early days in upstate New York learning from his father, the department fire chief. He describes the blazes he battled with a career and volunteer crew in the crowded suburbs of Washington, D.C. He examines the mentoring relationship established with his son as they respond to the calls of a volunteer department in rural Pennsylvania.

Overall, Ryman shares both the personal and professional turning points that define a firefighting career.

$10.95
280 pgs., 5.5" x 8.5"
paperback
ISBN 9780982256596

$2.99-$4.99
ebook

Gary R. Ryman

Gary R. Ryman is the second of three generations of firefighters. He has a bachelor's degree in Fire Science from the University of Maryland and has been employed as a fire protection engineer for over twenty-five years. He is currently pursuing a master's degree in American History. Ryman is married with two children. His oldest son makes up the third generation of firefighters in his family, which makes him feel both old and young at the same time.