Commentary

This is a good counter balance story to the
Jane Fonda/Vietnam/Woman Of The Year
story I have received many times in my e-mail.

Ann Margaret

Viet Nam 1966

Richard, (my husband), never really talked a lot about his time in Viet Nam other than he had been shot by a sniper. However, he had a rather grainy, 8 x 10 black and white photo he had taken at a USO show of Ann Margaret with Bob Hope in the background that was one of his treasures.

A few years ago, Ann Margaret was doing a book signing at a local bookstore. Richard wanted to see if he could get her to sign the treasured photo so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o'clock for the 7:30 signing.

When I got there after work, the line went all the way around the bookstore, circled the parking lot and disappeared behind a parking garage. Before her appearance, bookstore employees announced that she would sign only her book and no memorabilia would be permitted.

Richard was disappointed, but wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much those shows meant to lonely GI's so far from home. Ann Margaret came out looking as beautiful as ever and, as second in line, it was soon Richard's turn.

He presented the book for her signature and then took out the photo. When he did, there were many shouts from the employees that she would not sign it. Richard said, "I understand. I just wanted her to see it."

She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, "This is one of my gentlemen from Viet Nam and I most certainly will sign his photo. I know what these men did for their country and I always have time for 'my gentlemen.'"

With that, she pulled Richard across the table and planted a big kiss on him. She then made quite a to-do about the bravery of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them, and how much she appreciated them. There weren't too many dry eyes among those close enough to hear. She then posed for pictures and acted as if he was the only one there.

Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When I asked if he'd like to talk about it, my big strong husband broke down in tears. "That's the first time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the Army," he said.

That night was a turning point for him. He walked a little straighter and, for the first time in years, was proud to have been a Vet. I'll never forget Ann Margaret for her graciousness and how much that small act of kindness meant to my husband.

I now make it a point to say "Thank you" to every person I come across who served in our Armed Forces. Freedom does not come cheap and I am grateful for all those who have served their country.

If you'd like to pass on this story, feel free to do so. Perhaps it will help others to become aware of how important it is to acknowledge the contribution our service people make.

THE MAN IN THE GLASS

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself,
And see what THAT man has to say.

For it isn't your wife or family or friend
Who judgement upon you must pass;
The man whose verdict counts most in the end
Is the one staring back from the glass.

Some people may think you a straight-shootin' chum
and call you a person of place
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the face.

He's the man to please, never mind all the rest
For he's with you clear up to the end,
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

Submitted by: Bill Dupras M.T.F.D.

"I Wish You Could Know"

I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for trapped children at 3 AM, flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen below you burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 6 in the morning as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late, but wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done to try to save his life.

I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke--sensations that I've become too familiar with.

I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire. "Is this false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to a call, "What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?"

I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during the past 25 minutes. Who will never go on her first
date or say the words, "I love you Mommy" again.

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine, squad, or my personal vehicle, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile. "What if this was my daughter, sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What are her parents reaction going to be when they open the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.

I wish you could know how it feels dispatching officers, firefighters and EMT's out and we call for them and our heart drops because no one answers back, or to hear a bone chilling 911 call of a child or wife needing assistance.

I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of "It will never happen to me."

I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain and missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" and not being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say.

Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having CPR done on him as they take him away in the Medic Unit. You know all along he did not have his seat belt on--a sensation that I have become too familiar with.

Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means to us...I wish you could though.

*author unknown *

First to fight, last to be equipped

From the Washington Post
Submitted by John L. Randall (retired DFD)

U.S. Marines are rightfully proud of their pledge to be the "First to fight." Well-trained and well-equipped, they have done outstanding service on scores of foreign shores. However, their counterparts in the homeland — the policemen, firemen and emergency medical service personnel who will be the "First to fight" in any terrorist event — are considerably less well-prepared, according to a study released today by the Rand Science and Technology Policy Institute.
Rand surveyed almost 200 first responders representing more than 80 organizations across the nation. It found that "The majority of emergency responders feel vastly under-prepared and under-protected for the consequences of chemical, biological or radiological terrorist attacks." There are a number of reasons for those deficiencies, largely centered around three areas — communications, equipment and training.
Communications failures between individual first responders and different agencies added significantly to their losses on September 11. According to Rand, those problems are festering among all first responders. One problem is unreliable signal transmission — many current radio systems lack the strength to penetrate buildings and other obstacles. Even when individual first responders can talk to one another, they cannot coordinate with their fellows from different agencies, a consequence of incompatible radio systems. While authorities have encouraged first responders to upgrade to higher frequency systems, which have higher penetration and permit better intra-agency cross talk, they are so expensive that few municipalities can afford them. As it stands, the average fire department can equip only about half of its personnel on a given shift with portable radios.
First responders also need better equipment. Most considered themselves to be "vastly under-protected" against weapons of mass destruction. While many jurisdictions have separate teams for handling bombs and hazardous materials, few have the capacity to handle the integrated responses required by unconventional weapons. Since there is a great deal of uncertainty about what equipment is needed to respond to the vast range of potential threats, municipalities are procuring equipment on an almost ad hoc basis. For instance, "departments are . . . acquiring chemical and respiratory protection without having a clear understanding of what exactly they are preparing for or how to prepare for it," the report said.
Emergency medical personnel reported that they felt particularly vulnerable to weapons of mass destruction, which is not too surprising considering that they already lack equipment specifically designed for their job. Nor, by and large, have EMS personnel developed specific hazard-awareness protocols or done the training that should accompany it.
Other first responders echoed the call for additional training on safety equipment and practices. "Without specialized training, there is a limit to the ability of non-specialized responders to take appropriate actions, even for such basic functions as hazard awareness," the report said. That almost certainly means additional casualties, since non-specialists will be the first on the scene in any terrorist attack.
Aside from providing additional funding for equipment and training, legislators also could take a more active role in standard setting, particularly for the equipment of EMS personnel. Appropriators also could encourage the research and development of such equipment with the goal of making it more protective, more interchangeable and more integrated.
Just like the Marines, first responders will be the first to fight in any terrorist event. They proved their valor on September 11. They shouldn't go into the next battle under-equipped or under-prepared.

WHAT IS A FIREMAN

He is the guy next door - a man's man with the memory of a little boy. He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.

He is a guy like you and me with wants and worries and unfulfilled dreams.
Yet he stands taller than most of us.
He is a fireman.

He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.
A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.
He is a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.
He is a gentle man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control.
He is responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again.

He is a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life - hot coffee held in the numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men - the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.

He doesn't wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.
When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.
He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.
He lives it.

When God was creating firefighters, he was into the sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of extra work on this one."

THE MAN IN THE GLASS