Bisme11

B sighting.

Short tease clip of me walking to chicken kitchen with my mom & bro for lunch. :) haha

The Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

~by: Linda Ellis~

The Firefighters Prayer

This prayer is dedicated to all those who have gone before me and who will follow me in the line

When I am called to duty, God, wherever flames may rage,
Give me the strength to save some life whatever be its age.
Help me embrace a little child before it is too late,
or save an older person from the horror of that fate.
Enable me to be alert and hear the weakest shout,
and quickly and efficiently to put the fire out.
I want to fill my calling and to give the best in me,
to guard my every neighbor and protect his property.
And if according to my fate I am to lose my life this day,
Please bless with your protecting hand my family this I pray.

Untitled

Brother when you weep for me
Remember that it was meant to be
Lay me down and when you leave
Remember I'll be at your sleeve
In every dark and choking hall
I'll be there as you slowly crawl
On every roof in driving snow
I'll hold your coat and you will know
In cellars hot with searing heat
At windows where a gate you meet
In closets where young children hide
You know I'll be there at your side
The house from which I now respond
Is overstaffed with heroes gone
Men who answered one last bell
Did the job and did it well
As firemen we understand
That death's a card dealt in our hand
A card we hope we never play
But one we hold there anyway
That card is something we ignore
As we crawl across a weakened floor
For we know that we're the only prayer
For anyone that might be there
So remember as you wipe your tears
The joy I knew throughout the years
As I did the job I loved to do
I pray that thought will see you through

-Author Unknown-

I Wish You Could Know

I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for
trapped children at 3AM, flames rolling above your head, your palms and
knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the
kitchen below you burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 6 in the morning as I check
her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway,
hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting
his wife and family to know everything possible was done to try to save his life.

I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear,
the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely
nothing in dense smoke-sensations that I've become too familiar with.

I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire "Is this A
false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What hazards
await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to call, "What is wrong with the patient?
Is it minor or life-threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?"

I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead the
beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during the past
25 minutes. Who will never go on her first date or say the words, "I love you Mommy" again.

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine, squad,
or my personal vehicle, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the
pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to
yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us
however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years
from the remains of her automobile. "What if this was my daughter, sister, my
girlfriend or a friend? What were her parents reaction going to be when they
opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my
parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not
come back from the last call.

I wish you could know how it feels dispatching officers, firefighters and
EMT's out and when we call for them and our heart drops because no one answers
back or to here a bone chilling 911 call of a child or wife needing assistance.

I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically,
abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of, "It will never happen to me.

I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or missed
meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the
tragedy my eyes have seen.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save
a life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in time
of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging
at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" Not even being able to look in his
eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say. Or to have to
hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having CPR done on him as
they take him away in the Medic Unit. You know all along he did not have his
seat belt on. A sensation that I have become too familiar with.

Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand
or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means to us......

I wish you could though.

-Author Unknown-

A Firefighters Legacy

My father is a fireman,
He used to respond to calls,
Now he just sits at home and does nothing at all.
He says the department is full of crap,
And are all egotistical and have too much pride,
When I know deep down he loves to ride.

Finally the day comes where the pager beeps,
There seems to be a fire in the barn holding some sheep,
He says this could be a good one and gets up to leave,
Little did I know later, I would grieve,
Once he arrived on scene there was fire through the roof,
“Surround and Drown” yelled the captain,
But that was not my father’s gut reaction,
Soon they heard screaming coming from inside,
There seems to be a child and apparently still alive.

He struggled with his SCBA until he heard the familiar beep,
Got down on his knees and began to creep,
Soon he spotted the child under some burning hay,
But this was no time to start yelling “yay!"
For there was a hiss off in the distance,
This he knew from experience was a propane line,
And it would blow if he did not get out on time.

He undid his coat and removed his tank,
And gave it to the child so he did not die,
The fire at this time was raging and wild,
He tucked the child under his arm,
So the falling timbers would do him no harm,
As he scrambled to the window to throw the kid out.

All of a sudden the whole house flashed,
My father knew it he was trapped,
No air, No protection, the end was near,
But he still heard the hissing and that was clear,
The barn was gonna blow, but could he make it on time?
He fought with god, please be kind,
He knelt on his knees and began to pray,
He prayed for the child, he had just saved,
And prayed for the house begging it not to cave,
He looked around and noticed the corrosion,
Before he knew it, there was an explosion.

As I kneel down at his grave,
I cannot imagine what he went through,
To save the stranger he never knew.


Written by, CJ Heinbach
SRLFD in Loudonville, NY

The Last Alarm

My father was a fireman.
He drove a big red truck
and when he'd go to work each day
he'd say "Mother wish me luck".
Then Dad would not come home again
'til some time the next day.
But the thing that bothered me the most
was the thingÕs some folks would say,
"A fireman's life is easy,
he eats and sleeps and plays,
and sometime's he won't fight a fire
for days and days and day's".
When I first heard these words
I was to young to understand
but I knew when people had trouble
Dad was there to lend a hand.
Then my father went to work one day
and he kissed us all goodbye
but little did we realize
that night we all would cry.
My father lost his life that night
when the floor gave way below
and I'd wondered why he'd risked his life
for someone he didn't know.
But now I truly realize
the greatest gift a man can give
is to lay his life upon the line
so that someone else might live.
So as we go from day to day
and we pray to God above
say a prayer for your local Firemen.
He may save the one's you love.

Carved in stone at the National Monument for
Fallen Firefighters Colorado Springs, Co.

What Is A FireFighter?

He is the guy next door - a man's man with the memory of a little boy. He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.

He is a guy like you and me with wants and worries and unfulfilled dreams.

Yet he stands taller than most of us.

He is a fireman.

He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.

A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.

He is a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.

He is a gentle man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control.

He is responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again.

He is a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life - hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men - the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.

He doesn't wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.

When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.

He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.

He lives it.

-Author Unknown-