nfd2004

A Great showing of support for the Bridgeports Bravest. I noticed members from as far away as Seattle,Wash., and Calgary, Canada. In addition I noticed depts in to cover all of Bridgeport's Firehouses from Milford, Fairfield, Westport, Stamford, Danbury, New Haven, West Haven, Waterbury, and Hartford, so that all of the Bridgeport Members could attend the services. And there might have been more.
A very Sad day in Bridgeport for its firefighters and family members. It was a very Sad day for the citizens of Bridgeport and all those firefighters who attended the services. I hope that the families and Bridgeport Firefighters will find the strength to accept what they can NOT change.
These Brave firefighters died in a type of building that most cities have today. Fighting fires will always be a dangerous business as long as burning buildings have to be searched for occupants. That's what Steve and Mike were doing when something went wrong.
I guess you could say that "I'm on the outside looking in now". And I have the highest respect for what firefighters do. You really are "Americas Heroes"

As a young guy, I worked as a letter carrier in Westport, Ct from 1970-1975. For me it as a Great job. Single, living at home with Mommy and Daddy, good pay, and good benefits. But I think even in those days, the general attitude of most people there was that they were always better than everybody else. It was a completely different lifestyle than what I had known growing up about 15 miles away in Bridgeport. In Bridgeport, if a young guy had a job as a letter carrier, or a cop or fireman, it was looked upon as having a Great job. But it was sure different in Westport.
As I remember, the firefighters there talking that in Westport, people didn't have much use for public servents. I knew most of the firemen then because I would take my lunch break at the firehouses. With all those beautiful homes, fancy expensive cars, maids, butlers, and swimming pools, those people taught me a lot. I saw at a young age that money really doesn't buy happiness, because so many people there appeared to be UNhappy.
I do remember that there were some good people though, and they were happy. I delievered the mail to a guy by the name of Harry Ackley. He was the Fire Chief of the dept. A Great Guy. I think his son is now the chief. Great people. I also delievered the mail to the Fire Dept Union President at the time. I think his nickname was "Moose", and a few other firefighters and police officers. But none of them had the maids or swimming pools. But they seemed happy.
I hope the firefighters of Westport are careful when it comes time for them to perform. You could get hurt there and those people could care less. I respected those firefighters then, and I respect them now. But for me, I have no use for about 90 % of the people there. Just a very different lifestyle and priority for them. Just my own opinion I formed a very long time ago. Give me the ghettos of Bridgeport any day. At least I know where those people are coming from.

As a young guy, I worked as a letter carrier in Westport, Ct from 1970-1975. For me it as a Great job. Single, living at home with Mommy and Daddy, good pay, and good benefits. But I think even in those days, the general attitude of most people there was that they were always better than everybody else. It was a completely different lifestyle than what I had known growing up about 15 miles away in Bridgeport. In Bridgeport, if a young guy had a job as a letter carrier, or a cop or fireman, it was looked upon as having a Great job. But it was sure different in Westport.
As I remember, the firefighters there talking that in Westport, people didn't have much use for public servents. I knew most of the firemen then because I would take my lunch break at the firehouses. With all those beautiful homes, fancy expensive cars, maids, butlers, and swimming pools, those people taught me a lot. I saw at a young age that money really doesn't buy happiness, because so many people there appeared to be UNhappy.
I do remember that there were some good people though, and they were happy. I delievered the mail to a guy by the name of Harry Ackley. He was the Fire Chief of the dept. A Great Guy. I think his son is now the chief. Great people. I also delievered the mail to the Fire Dept Union President at the time. I think his nickname was "Moose", and a few other firefighters and police officers. But none of them had the maids or swimming pools. But they seemed happy.
I hope the firefighters of Westport are careful when it comes time for them to perform. You could get hurt there and those people could care less. I respected those firefighters then, and I respect them now. But for me, I have no use for about 90 % of the people there. Just a very different lifestyle and priority for them. Just my own opinion I formed a very long time ago. Give me the ghettos of Bridgeport any day. At least I know where those people are coming from.

As a young guy, I worked as a letter carrier in Westport, Ct from 1970-1975. For me it as a Great job. Single, living at home with Mommy and Daddy, good pay, and good benefits. But I think even in those days, the general attitude of most people there was that they were always better than everybody else. It was a completely different lifestyle than what I had known growing up about 15 miles away in Bridgeport. In Bridgeport, if a young guy had a job as a letter carrier, or a cop or fireman, it was looked upon as having a Great job. But it was sure different in Westport.
As I remember, the firefighters there talking that in Westport, people didn't have much use for public servents. I knew most of the firemen then because I would take my lunch break at the firehouses. With all those beautiful homes, fancy expensive cars, maids, butlers, and swimming pools, those people taught me a lot. I saw at a young age that money really doesn't buy happiness, because so many people there appeared to be UNhappy.
I do remember that there were some good people though, and they were happy. I delievered the mail to a guy by the name of Harry Ackley. He was the Fire Chief of the dept. A Great Guy. I think his son is now the chief. Great people. I also delievered the mail to the Fire Dept Union President at the time. I think his nickname was "Moose", and a few other firefighters and police officers. But none of them had the maids or swimming pools. But they seemed happy.
I hope the firefighters of Westport are careful when it comes time for them to perform. You could get hurt there and those people could care less. I respected those firefighters then, and I respect them now. But for me, I have no use for about 90 % of the people there. Just a very different lifestyle and priority for them. Just my own opinion I formed a very long time ago. Give me the ghettos of Bridgeport any day. At least I know where those people are coming from.

I'd like to share with you a little story about a "Role Model" that I had most of my life. I nicknamed him "Smokey", or "Smoke" for short. He was my father and he really didn"t mind that I called him "Smoke". The reason I called him that was because he smoked a lot of cigars, and was a firefighter in Bridgeport, Ct. The name just kind of fit him. I went to Catholic Grammer School and the Nuns always wanted the boys to become a priest, a doctor or a lawyer. I wasn"t doing very good in school, and myelf, and my father met with the Nun, while my mother stayed home with my brothers and sister. The Nun asked me what I wanted to do when I grow up and I said : "Be A FIREMAN". It really wasn"t what she wanted to hear and I think my father was actually a little embarassed over my response. I was probadly about 9 or 10 years old and in those days firemen worked long hours for low pay. I think at the time it was Seven Days, Two Off, then Seven Nights with Two off.
I remember my father and his friend, who was also on the job, studying for promotion exams at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and "Smoke" would have his cigar. I would be sitting nearby to listen as they asked each other questions and then, every once in awhile they"d talk about a "Big Job" they had. I sure used to like listening.
Later both got promoted to Lt. One day while walking home from school there was a Big Job in a six family house. As I watched the fire, I heard over the fire Radio the chief saying; "Send me Truck 5". That was the rig Smoke was on as Lt and working that day. I told everybody in the crowd, "they just called for Truck 5 and my fathers coming". I don"t think they really cared, but I sure did ! As the open cab American La France Tiller pulled up, my father waved and then they put the ladder to the roof. I watched the entire fire until just about everybody was gone. Then I ran home to tell my mother that I saw "Smoke" at a fire.
Later while he was still a Lt on Truck 5, a job came in on Fulton St. It was reported as a Vacant House Fire. Smoke went around the back to the second floor. He had a light with him and for some reason an axe too. Apparently, he had to force his way in. (they didn"t have what we know as a forcible entry team then). Through the smoke and fire, he found a guy, unconsious in the bathtub and dragged him out. At that time, the only truck to carry oxygen was their Rescue, called Squad 5, and they couldn"t get the door open that had the oxygen in it. It was just too close to a parked car. So Smoke began mouth to mouth resusciation on this guy. The guy took a deep breathe and started breathing again. Later I remember Smoke telling me that the guy was wearing a brown coat and the hospital had to give this guy a permenet stoma. (I think that's the term). Smoke recieved the "Highest Medal" in the Bridgeport Fire Dept for his actions that night. In his 30 plus years, only about 10 or 12 othes ever recieved this Medal called "the Gold Star".
About a year later I was waiting for a bus to go home. A homeless guy came up to me and asked if I could spare any change for a coffee. I won't give him any money but I bought him a coffee at the diner across the street. I had one too. I was now about 16 years old. While drinking the coffees, the fire engines went by. Then the Homeless guy said to me, "those guys saved my life". I said "What do you mean"? He then told me he was rescued from a fire on Fulton St and told me his story. Then I looked and the guy was wearing a Brown Coat as Smoke had described, and then I also noticed the stoma in his neck. I asked him if his name was Ed Martin and he said "Yes". I was so "Proud" to meet this guy and I couldn"t wait to tell Smoke.
Smoke retired as a Captain in 1978, about the same time my brother went on the job. Prior to going on the Fire Dept, Smoke was a "Combat Medic" in WWII. Sadly Smoke passed away in March, 2007.
If you have a Role Model or had a Role Model in your life, maybe you can share your story with us.

I had the HONOR of marching in the St Patricks Day Parade with the members of the FDNY several years ago. The members of Engine 37 and Ladder 40, welcomed myself and a few other members from my own small city dept to join them. At that Harlem Firehouse in the morning, we were all treated to one Great huge Breakfast. Other on duty companies in the battalion were invited to come over and join in the feast also. After that, we got on the subway to line up for marching. It sure was an Honor to march with those Great Firefighters. It was a Great day and a Great time. As I remember, we were invited down again for the next year too. Myself and the other members of our dept have never forgotten The Class and Great Time we were given by those FDNY Harlem Guys. "Thanks Again Guy's".
Retired IAFF 892

You and others are the REAL behind the SCENE HERO's. We Commend you all. Thank you for all the Lives you have Saved.

I remember the old brick firehouse I worked in. I think it was built in 1896. It even had an old Hayloft that used to store the hay for the horses. In the basement were maybe 12" x 12" solid oak beams. No drive through bays. No central air conditioning and we had to make sure there was always water in the huge steam boiler. Sometimes we"d get a loud "Bang" from the old steam raditors. The old wooden single pain windows would rattle all night long on those cold nights. In the morning the frost would be on the outside AND the "Inside" of those windows. The kitchen was on the apparatus floor behind the rigs. If one rig went out, you got a bit of a "feed from the engine smoke" while eating your pork and beans. We had an Engine, a Ladder and a Rescue in that firehouse. They closed the Rescue Co., and shortly after the Ladder moved to the new firehouse. I was assigned to the Engine and we were the last to go. We ended up staying there for about a year. Then in 1995, I was working the night shift and the chief gave me the keys and said; "Lock the place up at 1800 hrs and go to your new home". None of us wanted to leave.
When we got to the new firehouse we pulled the rig in through the drive through bay. The cement floor was all newly painted. It didn"t even smell like a fire house. Inside the walls in the various rooms were covered with white sheetrock. It reminded me of being in a Doctors office rather than a Firehouse. It just wasn"t the same.