Mud Can be Fun Sometimes

My mom is now helping spur old stories back into my old head...    

Not sure if you remember but thought about a story for you. Was not long after you got into IVFD, was a Thanksgiving or Xmas and you drove #01 into a old Pole house fire off the road going into Forks Park. Up a narrow road, big mud hole, numerous big stumps and Dixon Davies got in your face about backing the truck out, not getting it stuck or scratching the fenders. As I remember you finally came home to reheated left over dinner, soaking wet but not from working the fire, but sweating blood backing the truck out. Mom


...you will have to climb into the way back machine with me for this adventure.  As mom stated this call occurred just a short time after I had joined the Illinois Valley Volunteer Fire Department some thirty years ago.  We didn't have the extensive drivers training programs for new engine operators like we have for today's new fire recruits.  No, no it was almost like if you had a pulse you could drive the big fire engine screaming down the road going code three (lights and siren) to an alarm.  How do you think we recruited new volunteer firefighters?  Yep, we promised the new souls that they too could drive a big shiny fire engine if they came an joined our motley firefighting crew.  Again I'm not sure how we didn't kill more firefighters or pedestrians in the old days by awkwardly doing things the way we did back then.  Wearing no breathing apparatus when it was so smoky in the house you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face.  Getting dressed into our turn-out gear while standing on the tailboard of the engine as it responded quickly to the next big event (Hell it's deemed too dangerous for firefighters to even ride the tailboard today let alone dress themselves while riding on it).  Or letting new people drive really fast down the highway while talking on the fire radio, with the siren and horn blaring in the background. And they say just chatting on a cell phone while driving is dangerous today?

...it was only my second or third time driving the engine to a actual structure fire so I was still very nervous that I was going to screw-up.  During trainings we had been told over and over by Dixon that if the engine didn't get to the scene safely we could never help save any ones life or their belongings.   He had really scared this point home with me during our weekly Tuesday night trainings.  It had been raining for several days before as I headed up the nicely graveled driveway leading to where a plume of dark smoke was billowing over the tree tops.  The solidly graveled driveway quickly changed though as I could begin to see the flames coming from the burning home through the thick forest.  Soon the road narrowed even more with deep mud holes in it, filled with two feet of water, coming as high as the running boards on the truck.  I was afraid of driving further down the rough road for fear of getting stuck in the middle of it but also afraid of not getting to the house on fire and letting the peoples things burn up because this "newbie" couldn't get the engine there.  So I gritted my teeth, told my passenger to pull the mirror on his side of the engine in and I went for it.  With my foot nervously pressing hard on the throttle pedal, helping keep my momentum up so I could plow through those deep mud holes, I kept moving down the narrowing cow path slipping and sliding around the corners, leading to this ramshackle of a home but I finally made it to where the real work began...

...we already had the flames knocked down pretty well when the duty officer, Dixon , finally arrived on scene.  He walked straight over to me, not to congratulate me on the fine job I did getting the engine in there or about the great job we had done knocking the fire down so quickly.  He firmly grabbed my shoulder and swung me around and yelled "If you put one GOD DAMN scratch on my engine I'm going to KICK YOUR ASS".  Still very nervous from the harrowing adventure I was able to meekly squeak out, " I... I didn't Sir" as he stomped off to look for proof on his engine.  He didn't even care about what the fire was doing, just if I had scratched his darn engine.

Miraculously I hadn't scratched the engine but it was decided that Aaron Gates would drive the rig back out the driveway when the alarm was over because he had so much more experience driving big trucks.  The rest of us were sent back to the station in a different rig where we began cleaning the gear before the next alarm.  Quite some time later the engine finally arrived back at the station.  Aaron sheepishly climbed down out of the truck cab and came over and asked, Bill (I was still so new I didn't have a cool nickname like today, other than maybe, Horses Ass) "How'd you get that damn engine in there?". "Hell we had to cut some trees down next to the driveway so we could get the engine back out of there because the corners in the road were too tight for the engine to negotiate around them".  I just said "good driving skills I guess" and went about washing the red mud off of my new engine.

Send me some of the stories you remember from the old days and I can make myself look bigger and better in them then you may have remembered.