They Say All Dogs Go To Heaven

Back in December the Chicago Fire Department suffered the loss of FF Ed Stringer and FF Corey Ankum when the building they were operating in collapsed.  19 other firefighters were injured.  At the time we did what those of our trade do: made sure the Class A uniforms were pressed and shoes polished, donned our formal uniforms, and went to pay our respects to two of our fallen.  

Having an Irish heritage I was raised in a grand tradition of attending wakes.  If you have not been to an Irish wake, it's a lot like a wedding, except the guest of honor isn't drinking. I think that Fire Service wakes bear much in common with the Irish Wakes that I've gone to over the years.  We gather together to celebrate the memory of one of our own.  Oftentimes we gather for someone we have never even met, have never heard of until he or she joined the roll of the fallen.  I think it's a way for us to acknowledge the dangers we all face and to acknowledged, in the words of Chief Crocker, "When a man becomes a fireman his greatest act of bravery has been accomplished."

So we stand in the parking lot of some funeral home and then walk past in a steady procession, saluting our fallen.  Then we disperse to pubs, restaurants, bowling alleys, homes, and dozens of other places and raise a glass and toast to the memory of our fallen and health to those who are in our company.

I think that we sometimes forget that there are folks at home who are dealing with this loss too.  Not the family members of the fallen Brother or Sister, but the folks who hold US near and dear.  We get to put on the dress uniform, salute, and have a pint afterwards.  Our spouses, children, partners, parents, and siblings sit at home and wait for us to return once again.  Their stress is a different kind, but it's real.  

An old friend, who I reconnected with through Facebook, sent me this conversation in the weeks after the funerals for Ed and Corey.  Her husband is a Chicago Fire Fighter, and they have two little ones at home.  She was out shopping with the oldest, and like many of our kids, he uses the time in the car with mom to ask questions.  Afterall everyone is strapped in a seat, unable to flee, and there are few Star Wars toys in the back seat of the average family roadster.  She gave me permission to reprint it here.

I'm proud and not at all hesitant to say that our four-year-old is sharp as a tack and a truly compassionate kid.  So when he asks me questions, I've never seen the point in dumbing things down past what I know he can handle.  Whether it's questions about his adoption, or questions about death, I'd rather stumble through it honestly than duck out of it easily.  So during the week between Christmas and New Years, Matt was gone way more than usual, as I'm sure all firefighters were.  It was a busy, stressful, awful week. 

Kevin and I were driving around on errands, on the day of one of the firefighters' funerals.  I'd asked our babysitter to take J.D. for a couple of hours, because errand-running with two little ones is an exercise in physical comedy.  Kevin is familiar enough with Matt's work routine that he noticed Matt hadn't come home that morning.  He'd gone straight to the south side to line up in formation before the service that day.  We have some of our best talks when he's strapped to his car seat.

"Where's Dad today?"

"He's at a funeral," I said, taking a breath and committing to the conversation.

"What's a funeral?"

"A funeral is when people get together after someone dies, to remember them.  They tell stories about them, and sometimes people are sad, and everybody honors the person who died."

"Who died?"

"Two firemen died."

"What happened?" he asked, seeming to truly grasp what I'd said.

"A building caught fire, and after they put the fire out, part of the building fell down.  A lot of guys got hurt, and two guys didn't make it.  They died."

"Did Dad know the firemen?"

"No, but all firemen go to another fireman's funeral, because every fireman is sad when another fireman dies.  The whole city gets sad."

"Are you sad?"

"Yeah, I'm sad, Kev.  But I'm okay."  I was starting to well up, and he noticed.  He's a good kid.

"So are the fireman at heaven?" 

"We think so, yes."

At this point, he lit up.  "Well, Sully and Goose will be SO EXCITED that there are firemen there to play with them!"  Sully and Goose were our two fabulous Boxers, whom we lost to old dog illnesses in 2008 and 2009, respectively.  Their deaths constitute Kevin's entire comprehension of death and an afterlife. 

So that's the point in the story where I lost it.  Driving and crying, and telling my four-year-old what a sweetheart he is, and assuring him that yes -- while I might not know exactly what heaven looks like, I can absolutely endorse a heaven where dogs and firemen run around playing together.

I read this and thought of the song Fiddler's Green.  If you haven't heard it it's an old sailor's song about what heaven would be like for a sailor after he's shuffled of the mortal coil.  There probably is a heaven when dogs and firefighters play together, napping the afternoons away, and playing fetch until neither the dog nor the firefighter know exactly who is entertaining who.

Take the time to remind yourself of the stress that our occupation causes our families.  Remember you get the excitement and satisfaction of crawling down that hallway and your spouse and kids are stuck with the worry that you might be hurt or killed.  Create a personal ritual to let those folks who are nearest and dearest to you know that you love them and appreciate their willingness to shoulder the burden of fear while you are off saving the world.  Most of all say "Thank You", because without their love and support doing this job is supremely hard.  

I'll leave you with a Wolfe Tone's version of "Fiddler's Green".  Enjoy.

Our Rituals

Thousands of Firefighters from the Chicago Area and around the country participated in one of our timeless rituals, the laying to rest of a fallen Brother. FF/PM Christopher Wheatley, Chicago Fire Department, Truck Co. 2 fell from a ladder while fighting a fire August 9th. When I arrived at the funeral home yesterday to pay my respects I was humbled but not surprised that it took two hours to make way from the back of the line to his casket, salute him, and pay my respects to his family.

I didn't know Chris, but as is so common in our trade we have mutual friends and acquaintances. From everything that I have heard he was an amazing guy who loved being a firefighter. One thing that struck me in looking at the hundreds of photos his family had put together is that he had a genuine love for life. I did not see a single photo where he did not have a huge smile on his face.

FF/PM Wheatley's Funeral had an amazing turnout of Brother and Sister Firefighters.

Photo Copyright Tim Olk, 2010

Paying our respects to one of our fallen is a ritual that we do well. Many members volunteer countless hours to be members of Honor Guard Organizations or Pipe and Drum Bands. They train and prepare to render tribute to our honored dead. It is a noble service they provide.

While the Line of Duty Death Wake and Funeral are not the only Fire Service Rituals they are certainly the most well know. The purpose of the ritual is to give our Brothers and Sisters a chance to grieve, reflect, and honor. The ritual itself is a thing of beauty, as all things are.

Rituals are important for the human psyche, which is why we have created them for longer than history exists. Ritual provides a backdrop for our brains to set-aside the day to day thoughts, concerns, and distractions so that we can concentrate on important matters in a reverent way.

We can be speaking of a Church Service, a Symphony, or the way a chef goes about preparing a meal. A teacher and scholar I had the joy of learning from, Issac Bonewits (who also passed away this week), has said that ritual is a ordered sequence of events designed to bring about an altered state of consciousness.

Do you have rituals that you follow everyday you are at the firehouse, or when you are getting on the rig for a call, or do you have routines? There are people who use these words interchangeably. They are not synonymous however, for one is about approaching a task with reverence and the other about checking a box on a form. A ritual is “an established or prescribed procedure for a religious or other rite.” A routine is “regular, unvarying, habitual, unimaginative, or rote procedure." There is a very different state of mind involved when you approach a task as ritual, than when you approach it as routine. Are you like the professional pitcher who always puts his left sock on first? Do you always perform your rig check in the same order? Do you report the same pieces of information for every size-up? The human mind likes order, we like sequences and patterns. This is why the pattern matching that is a critical component of Recognition Primed Decision Making works so well. It’s also why many people are challenged by a rapidly changing situation that does not match up to their expected outcomes. Most of people do things the same way every time out of routine. For the Fire Service Warrior routine, mundane acts, take on the form of Ritual, and in doing so become part of being in the Ready Position.

Firefighting should be an altered state of consciousness. Preparing for your shift should be done with the same attention to detail a minister gives in preparing to preach. The alert of the station alarm, or the pager on your belt, should mentally trigger your understanding that something outside of your normal existence is about to occur; like the swelling of an orchestra during Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. If you ever find yourself having to call a MAYDAY it should be with the same sense of calm heard in the voice of “Sully” as he guided his aircraft into the Hudson.

In religious rituals the sound of the organ music, the lighting of candles, and the invocations of the celebrant are sub-conscious triggers that tell your brain that something “special” is going on. Those triggers are imbued with sacred meanings that are supposed to cause your mind to focus and set aside the “unimportant” thoughts. That initial dispatch should be the same thing. That should be the trigger that shuts off your thoughts about the fight you had with your spouse, how your kid is doing in school, and even of your parent who is dying in a hospital bed. You can come back to those thoughts later. They are important, but they are completely irrelevant right now. To be a Fire Service Warrior, you must approach each day with a focus. Whether we are cleaning tools, presenting a public education class, treating an asthma attack, or fighting a structure fire we owe it to ourselves and to our neighbors, our “customers” if you prefer, to be 100% present in the moment. Why? We have a sacred duty to protect society. The initial dispatch should trigger your mind to focus on the task at hand. Learning to do this can be challenging though. We all get consumed in our thoughts. Learning to flip a switch to shut out those other concerns will come only with practice.

Embrace your rituals and use them to guide you. As we say farewell to FF/PM Chris Wheatley another ritual is going on in Detroit. Family members, and Brothers and Sisters are at the bedsides of six brothers who were injured in a building collapse earlier today. One of their number is in very critical condition. Keep him in your thoughts and prayers. Be Safe.