When I was in First grade at the Riverside Elementary in Idaho Falls, Idaho my class went on a field trip to the Fire Station on Shoup Street. I was very impressed with the Engines and the firemen and the way they could slide down the pole. They taught me and my classmates about fire safety. I thought at the time that I would like to be a fireman too. The year was 1963 and a female fireman was unheard of and I could only dream.
Now it is the year of 2011 and we live in a different world. The fact is that the child in me is still dreaming. So when my 18 year old son came home one day last winter and informed me that he and his friend were signing up to be volunteer firemen for the Shelley fire Department I felt a rush of joy. My son would be joining the ranks of those whom I admire most. He had no knowledge of my own inner desire and yet there he was fulfilling my dream.
Today it gives me much pride to see my son fulfilling his duties as a volunteer fireman. He carries his radio on his belt where ever he goes. His radio wakes me up in the night from his room with its different tones. It interrupts our meals and family activities. My son always has an ear listening for a fire call and so do his brother and I. He has to be ready to drop whatever he is doing and take off in a moments notice to be a first responder. Most times his pack with his helmet and other gear is in the back of our car. If not there, then it sits by our front door. There has been times when he has received a call that while my son is throwing on his boots I have grabbed his bag and tossed it into the car for him so as to help him off. I don’t need to do this though for he is often up and gone before I’m barely aware. However those times in which I have been able to assist him in his departure have brought me much satisfaction.
Being a mother of a fireman is similar to being a spouse of a fireman. I am proud to see him go… yet there is a worry and a concern. Will it be a big fire? Will he be okay? Will he be gone for hours? Will he return with an injury? Will his experiences affect him for the rest of his life? It is best not to think of such questions. Yet they are there haunting the back of my mind as I watch him drive off. Then hours later upon his return I breath a sigh of relief. He enters thru the door and the smell of smoke accompanies him. He is tired, he has given his all to help in whatever capacity is needed of him. He never complains and simply prepares his gear in the state of ready for the next call.
That which my son appears to enjoy the most are the moments when as the firemen of my childhood did, he teaches a child about fire safety. In my son, I have found my dream fulfilled. He has become a brave man and is willing to risk his life for whomever. So to you son, and to all firefighters I say… thank-you for putting your life on the line. Thank-you for making our community safer. Thank-you for all you do.