My Dad The Fireman The fire was really hot. Even from the other side of the road where we were standing, it was too hot to stay long, without the heat burning your face. The building was five stories and engulfed in flames. Firefighters were blasting it with water from the long fire hoses they carried. It took four men to a hose due to the tremendous water pressure. I saw fourteen trucks in all, and two of them were hook and ladders. They are the long fire trucks with a driver in the front, and one in the rear. There were countless other emergency vehicles covering the entire block. The chief had a bull horn and was shouting the men orders, as they fought the blaze. The hook and ladder trucks, had their ladders extended to the roof, and were rescuing as many people as they could. I couldn't even imagine, just how hot it must have been right up in that fiery blaze. We watched in horror as one wall gave way caving in, and crumbling down into the fire. Look said my mother, pointing to the far side, there is your father. All six of us had our eyes now fixed on dad. He was at the top of one of the ladders carrying people down to safety, then climbing right back up to retrieve another. He was in full gear that must have added at least an extra fifty pounds of weight. I never realized how strong he truly was. I miss him, my mom too.
There were eight of us in all, plus our dog Tippy. He was brown all over, except on the edges. His paws, and the tip of his tail were white. Hence we named him Tippy. We lived in a small urban town in New Jersey, just outside of New York City. Our mom didn't work outside the home until we were a lot older. Taking care of the six of us rambunctious hoodlums, was more than enough work and stress for anyone. And let me tell you, we were a handful. Dad was a full time fireman. He worked shifts. One week days, the next it was nights. If memory serves me right they were twelve hour shifts. That put mom as the primary care giver most of the time, but dad wore the pants in the family. What he said, was usually law back then. He worried about us all the time. He did softened up as we got older.
Early one evening, while dad was working, Tippy came home smelling like smoke, and his hair was a little singed. Mom put him in the tub in cold water, and was pouring cool water on him when the phone rang. Hello I said. Hi this is Mr. Yasko, is your mom there? Yes sir I said, please hold on while I get her. Mom I yelled, it's Mr. Yasko. He was our friends dad. He was a fireman too. They live about a block away from us across from the school. It was weird. Mom flew out of the bathroom and to the phone. She grabbed it from me fast and hard, and her first words were, "What's wrong John, did something happen". He told her everything was okay, but that dad would not be home. He was working on a big fire and had to pull a second shift. Where is the fire she asked. On the corner of Highland and Lincoln he told her. Mom hung up the phone and rounded us all up. Where are we going mommy, asked my little sister Laura? We are going to see your father. I didn't realize it then, but I sure as hell understand now. Mom was worried sick about dad.
We didn't own a car. The firehouse was just ten blocks away. It was near the apartment building my grandma live in. She was the super there. The fire was in between our house and hers. We walked about two blocks and then began to see all the action. The closer we got, the more hectic it became. Stay close mom ordered us. She had us all hold each others hands. Standing there in that heat and watching our dad, I think gave us all, including mom, a new sense of respect for him. At one point when the people were all out, dad got a short break. One of his firemen friends told him we were there, and he came over and hugged mom. I saw tears in her eyes. Then he knelt and opened his arms wide and hugged all six of us at once. He smiled and said I love you guys. He looked at mom. I think Tippy is gone he said, he was here and chased me as the ladder went up. I heard him bark, then yelp, but I had to get to the people up top. Mom told him our dog was home and okay. It was an odd thing I thought, here was dad in the midst of chaos, and he had a look of relief on his face. I guess he counted on Tippy to help watch over us while he was gone. I'll see you when I get home he said, be good for your mother. We will daddy, we said. He hugged mom and went back to work. He was now holding the hose with the other men, and blasting the fire with water. Mom seemed to feel better now, and we all walked back home.
About six years later they passed a law, that firefighters could live out of town. They had to live in the state, but did not need to live in the town they worked. Dad and mom sold the house, got a car, and quickly moved us all into the country. Dad saw a lot of the goings on in town, and wanted to give us a safer place to grow up. Less congestion, meant less crime and more important less drugs. He incorporated a long commute to work for himself, but to him, it was worth it to keep the family safe. To be honest though, there was less violent crime, but drugs were still easily attained, even here.
We started school in September and made new friends. My two oldest brothers had friends with drivers licenses. They would come and visit sometimes. My brothers would also go back to the city and sometimes stay at their friends houses over night. Yea, the city didn't prove to be too good for them. Luckily dad and mom had instilled good morals and values in all of us. After some trouble and a near death experience, they began to stay in the country and around home. Dad took us fishing a couple times, and the older boys hunting. It was the best thing he could have ever done. It really helped save their lives I think.
When I was about sixteen, the house was getting emptier. One brother out on his own, one in the navy, and my older sister was just married. That left us three younger ones. My little brother and sister, and me. We were very close in age and had a lot of the same friends. We all hung out together too. Mostly, we all lived in the same neighborhood, and even rode the same bus to school. Mom now worked. She had a job in Ma-Bell. Dad still commuted to the firehouse all the time. Life was alright. My parents did not have to struggle as hard now with two incomes and a few less mouths to feed. Over the years, I think we all forgot how brave and courageous dad really was. We began to fight against his rules all the time, thinking he was just a tyrant. Looking back, I know he just wanted us safe.
One night in late fall, dad had just come in from hunting. His shifts at work had changed up, and he was off for three days. Mom had dinner ready and we sat down to eat. It was about seven PM. So dad I said, how did ya do hunting. Oh, he said, I saw a couple but nothing large enough to shoot. I could see he was exhausted from being out in the cold all day. Suddenly mom screamed. FIRE! I got up and stood next to her looking out the kitchen window. Down the hill was lit up like a giant candle. It looked like everything down there was ablaze.
Dad jumped from his chair and into his boots and dashed out the door in only his cotton thermal under ware which he wore under his clothes hunting. I can still see him running down the hill. We of coarse were all following him. As we reached the bottom of the hill, I saw it was my best friends house. It was an old converted summer lake house. Newspapers and straw were half the insulation. The house was totally consumed. Our neighbor Jim was the cop on the scene. The first firetruck had just arrived and started shooting the water on the house. Is anyone inside yelled my dad? The mother and one son are out. We don't know about the father and the other boy said Jim. Wet me down screamed my father to the firefighters. You can't go in there like that, you'll die, one of them responded. My dad looked at Jim. He is a paid city fireman yelled Jim, do what he says. The volunteers hosed him down and he disappeared into the house. It seemed like he was gone an eternity. People watching began looking at one another. It didn't look good. Finally my dad came out of the house. The father is gone I heard him tell Jim, it's too late, he is on the side porch dead. Wet me down again, he yelled. Again they soaked him with the hoses and in he went. They turned the hoses onto the side porch, thinking he was going to get the dad I guess. After another excruciating few minutes, he came out. There is no one else inside he said, and collapsed.
They turned the hose on him for a just a second to cool him, and then back onto the fire. The medics put my dad into the ambulance and gave him oxygen. He was okay. He suffered from some smoke inhalation. He refused to go to the hospital. The fire slowly got lower and lower until finally it was extinguished. My friend came home toward the end of it all. I told him about his dad, and took him to where his mom and brother were. His mom broke her hip when she had jumped out the window and into the yard. I left him there and went back to my dad and family over by the other ambulance. After dad had rested a bit with the oxygen on, we all went home. It is a night I will never forget.
Nine years later, dad went on to retire after suffering a couple of heart attacks. He died two years later. He lived through the Korean war, and through a life long career of putting others before himself. To others he was just a fireman, but to me, he was a hero. Thank's Dad!