No, I haven’t forgotten the excitement of riding on a fire rig. “Lights flashing, sirens wailing,” nor the feeling of “a good save”! Whether it be human life or valued possessions of a fellow citizen.

I haven’t forgotten the feeling of standing, ankle deep, in freezing water on a 5 below January night, gloves frozen to the nozzle, fighting a fire I know was caused by carelessness or worse.

I haven’t forgotten the terror of being lost in a smoke filled building….feeling the taste of hot coffee and a cold meat loaf sandwich at four in the morning.

Now, I walk into my old firehouse, only to find it filled with strangers. I may not walk as fast, or stand as straight as you. My hair may be gray or thin. My jokes don’t come as easy as they once did. But I know in my heart I have paid the price, and have “earned” the right to say proudly.

“I’m a retired Firefighter.”

This post written by Ret. Battalion Chief Joe Carber (Deceased)
Fire Department City of New York

Joe Carber kind of sums it up for us retirees doesn’t he? God bless his soul.

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"Fire Horses" book authored by firefighter R.J. Haig.


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