A little while back, I spent the better part of a week up in northeastern Kentucky, shadowing and shooting the chief of the Maysville Fire Department. Was doing a story on Chief Kyle Carpenter for a photojournalism workshop, and as part of that ended up spending a good deal of time with the fire department.
While my focus was on the chief, I could have just as easily done a story on the department itself. Chief Carpenter called them his other family, and as the week wore on the bond they shared became quite evident.
The 24 full time and 3 part time firefighters that make up the Maysville Fire Department work 8 to a shift, with each shift lasting 24 hours on a 24 on/48 off rotation. Their four fire trucks and six ambulances are split between two stations, but Fire Company No. 1 were the only ones I got to know.
The L&N train station turned firehouse that they were based in was fitted out with living quarters upstairs, would have passed for a good sized apartment if not for the occupants curious habit of suddenly dashing out of it. Even had the old fashioned fire pole, but OSHA won't let them slide down it anymore.
Like any family, they have their ups and downs, as well as their own little routines. In the mornings they'd gather for coffee and a combination briefing and bullshit session. Never lasted very long, there was always more to do than time to do it, and that's without getting called away on runs.
They go on a lot of runs. About 5000 a year, in a city of less than 9000 people. While they mainly stick to the city limits for responding to fires, for medical emergencies (which make up a majority of the runs) they cover all of Mason County. The role of fire chief is as much an administrative one as it is about putting out fires, Kyle was always triaging the tasks in between runs.
One minute grading exams of potential hires, the next flying down the road responding to call. Brought to mind that description of serving in a war, "long periods of boredom interspersed with moments of sheer terror." Don't know that terror was actually involved but nobody seemed particularly relaxed.
They started calling me a black cloud after getting called out to two fires in just a few hours while I was tagging along. The second run was to the power plant, soon as we got out of the vehicle we were assailed by a smell that said 'nobody here is making it to 60 without getting cancer.' The sheer scale of the place had only truly registered as we'd gotten close, and with it a dawning awareness of how bad a fire here could potentially get. How's that for walking into work?
Fortunately, neither run amounted to anything serious but it highlighted the seriousness of the work these folks do.