Fighting Fires

Most girls I knew wanted to grow up to become teachers or lawyers or wives.  I dreamed of a less traditional path - like a superhero. or a firefighter. 

Shay at Firefighter Training School

As kids, my brother and I would race outside at the sound of sirens - chasing red trucks down the street to watch firemen save a life...even if it was just a cat stuck in a tree (our small town firefighters really did rescue pets).

Most of us outgrew our childhood dreams but I sometimes wonder what if we'd followed those paths? 

Me? As a journalist, I chase fire trucks for different reasons now. Maybe the signs were there all along that I'd become a writer.  A shy kid, I'd preferred Reader's Digest over boys. did crossword puzzles in ink. laminated my library card. 

Ironically, my job as a journalist let me experience my childhood fantasy of fighting fires and saving lives.  I jumped at a chance to attend Firefighting Academy for a series on why there so few women pump hoses for a career.

I'm not sure where the Academy dug up gear small enough to fit my frame but there I was at roll call, along with several mostly-male journalists and a class of new recruits. 

One test required rescuing a 200-pound man (a REAL one acting unconscious, not a dummy!) from a burning house. I don't know anyone petite woman who could carry that much weight - also wearing 60 pounds of gear, including oxygen tank and mask, AND racing a stopwatch.   

So I did the logical thing. 

The trainer stopped me - apparently dragging a man by his arms down a flight of stairs is not the correct way to rescue him.

Another test required saving victims from a wrecked car using the Jaws of Life.

So again, I did the logical thing. The trainer stopped me again - apparently hoisting a 75-pound hydraulic tool with one's knees is not safe technique.

 Shay at firefighting training

Then there was a test to reach occupants in a burning highrise, which required climbing a five-story truck ladder and dangling over the concrete below without a net or harness. 

This time the trainer did not have to stop me. I made it only part-way before fear won out. 

But this test wasn't about strength.  While I may not be able to carry a 200-pound person or manhandle a monster tool, this test didn't require muscles; it required courage.

"Let me try again," I asked the captain.  Made it to the top (higher than any other non-recruits) but failed at the last step - my shaky legs and arms of jello couldn't be trusted to hold me five stories in the air.

The truth is that while many women lack the physical strength firefighting requires,* we are often filled with a heart and determination that can change the world.

*Less than 3% of firefighters are women (LA Weekly)

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