VALERIE SCHULTZ: Thank you, firefighters, for keeping us safe
| Wednesday, Sep 28 2011 05:00 PM
Last Updated Wednesday, Sep 28 2011 05:00 PM
Whenever I hear a siren, I do as my grandmother taught me long ago: say a silent prayer for both the people needing help and the people racing to help. Lately, I do something else automatically: I sniff the air for smoke.
Whenever rain clouds converge and lightning zigs like hairline fractures in the bone-colored sky, I am amazed by the power of nature over this precious earth. Lately, I then listen for sirens.
And when the leaves begin to change color and the wind picks up in a warm and strong fall way, I thank God that I am witness to another turn of the lovely four seasons. Then, these days, I scan the horizon for helicopters. And for planes dropping water and fire retardant chemicals from the sky.
Fire season is just getting warmed up.
Kern County has been the fire capital of California recently, especially here in Tehachapi. From our house in the past month, we have seen flames to the east and to the west, brought on by manmade tragedy or natural phenomena. We have listened anxiously to the news. We have had our vision and respiration messed with by smoke. Although my family has been neither evacuated nor imminently threatened, we know plenty of people who have. And Tehachapi being a small town with a weird name, we residents have had phone calls from all over the country from people we know who hear that name on the news and worry about us.
The fact that our hills and houses are no longer burning is due to one great good: public service. More specifically, the exceptional people who serve the public by devoting their careers and lives to fighting fires. This is a small tribute to men and women who do very big work.
The firefighters I have known over the years have all been men. They are, for the most part, quiet, good-humored, unassuming guys who don't make a big deal about their job. It's strange to imagine having a job that requires one to risk one's own life in order to save the lives of others and not making a big deal about it, but they really don't. They shy away from drama.
Speaking of drama, the television show "Rescue Me" often depicts firefighters as selfish, alcoholic, insecure, immature, promiscuous, narrow-minded, financially challenged, borderline sociopaths, but television characters rarely mirror their real-life counterparts. Contrary to what a good portion of televised dramas would have us believe, most cops do not shoot someone dead on every shift. Most housewives are not sleeping with the teenage gardener. Most female lawyers/coroners/teachers/doctors/executives/employees-of-any-kind do not routinely show four inches of cleavage while they are working. But TV is an advertising medium, and sensationalism sells.
Rather, when it comes to firefighters on film, we are achingly familiar with the documentary footage from the Manhattan morning of Sept. 11, 2001, showing firefighters, along with paramedics and police officers, entering the damaged towers of the World Trade Center while everyone else is trying to exit. We've watched them lugging heavy equipment up flights of stairs that they would never descend, all the while thinking of themselves not as heroes, but as fulfilling their duties. They think they are on the job. No big whoop. We, in retrospect, know their fate. We respect their heroism. We mourn their end.
When the local wildfires were mostly contained, I happened to attend a meeting that was held in a conference room at a Tehachapi hotel. The parking lot was full of fire trucks, and the lobby and hallways indicated that the rooms were mostly occupied by the firefighters who had been keeping our town safe for over a week. I passed group after group of uniformed men. Finally, I said to one group, "Thank you for being here and all you are doing for us." I guess I expected them to say, "You're welcome, ma'am!" I expected that they were comfortable hearing how much we appreciate their dedication to our safety and wellbeing. Instead, they all just sort of smiled pleasantly and seemed a bit embarrassed. "Thank you," one of them finally said. But I hadn't done anything.
So I was glad to see on the front page of the Tehachapi News that the high school ASB class had made a banner thanking all the firefighters who had come from near and far to rescue Tehachapi. Other folks delivered baked goods to the firefighters to show their appreciation. More than 5,000 firefighters worked to put out the fires, which burned nearly 55,000 acres, and cost an unofficial estimate of $21 million.
Government workers have gotten some bad press lately, as parasitic, overpaid do-nothings who live off the taxpayers' hard-earned money. Those of us who live in fire country know better. We only rest easy in our beds at night because of the knowledge that the government workers who are the first responders in emergencies are willing to risk their own lives in order to protect the rest of us from danger. We in Kern County are deeply grateful for their work. With every siren, we keep them in our prayers.
These are the opinions of Valerie Schultz, not necessarily those of The Californian. Email her at vschultz22@gmail.com
