February 3, 2006
It’s Friday, the end of another long week for those of us working the traditional 40 hour gig. Of course, for the firefighters, paramedics, and communications personnel serving in Portland, the clock goes round n’ round. 24 hours, seven days a week. Every day and every night of the year, Local 740 members stand watch over Maine’s largest city.
So, what happened this “week”? Well, a lot. Our members in dispatch handled thousands of 911 calls. Fire companies and ambulance crews responded to over 200 calls each of the last seven days. They fought a 3-alam fire on Deering Ave. 50 of our members did the hot, dirty, dangerous work in that multiple unit dwelling. They put the fire out and nobody got hurt. Portland paramedics served the needs of hundreds of those that were sick or injured. From the most serious medical emergency to calls for members of the public that want to be reassured, our ambulance crews did this and more. They helped people, they cared for people, and they comforted people-people that they don’t even know-yet our gang was there for those who found themselves victims of circumstances that put them in vulnerable positions. And we didn’t get out of this week unscathed. Hurt knees, strained backs, and stressed hearts are the normal wear and tear on the folks who serve in public safety, not just here in Portland, but all across our country. We even had a couple of companies physically assaulted-an urban and, unfortunately, growing phenomena-by the very people who called for help.
Well, so? You might say. Nobody forced them to be dispatchers, firefighters, or paramedics. They could be doing something else with their time. And you know what? If you said that you’d be right. The Local 740 dispatcher waiting for the call could be working somewhere else. Maybe at a big computer company. The medic staffing the ambulance that just rolled by your house could have chosen to get a job at a medical facility. The firefighters, standing silent guard over their neighborhood, coats and boots at the ready next to that big red truck could have gone to work as carpenters or electricians. With the talent possessed by this group, any of them could have chosen varying other professions.
None of them did, though. And thank goodness for that.