Before fire brigades came into being, whole communities could erupt in flame, the conflagration spreading like the wild fires that plague California and western forests. Then someone had a better idea: "Saaaay, what if we picked some guys... Gave them, um, buckets of water! ...and they would extinguish fires before they consumed our town? Whaddya think? Huh? Huh?" Or something like that.Since that moment, Fire Departments have become entities with a broader mandate of disaster mitigation. Car wrecks, heart attacks, funny odors - who you gonna call? We regularly, daily, roll on the report of a "man down", called in by a helpful Samaritan, universally a malt-beverage-enthusiast napping in the shrubbery. We drill for the predicted, and inevitable earthquake. We have a tractor-trailer stuffed with sensors, equipment, and rubber suits waiting for the tanker car carrying methyl-ethyl-mess-you-up to derail in the switch yard. If you are in a trench, installing pipes or cabling, and you should find yourself suddenly in a cave-in, buried in glacial till, we have a plan. All this official and professional worry is financed by your tax dollars. We are the City's residents' insurance policy.
Our training, equipment, vehicles, and responsibilities necessitate a certain cost to the City to effect our mission. This necessary investment in social services, schools, police and fire departments, roads, water and sewage systems, hospitals, are a hallmark of civilization. We, long ago, signed a compact acknowledging the benefit of taking care of each other. It costs money, real money, money that people grudgingly pay with their mortgages, cars, businesses, and lesser purchases. Someday, somewhere, you will need the safety net that society provides. The fire engine (or police car, clean drinking water, public transport) is the incarnation of an ideal, rooted in the greater good, the assurance that help is at hand.
We are a force of good in a harsh and indifferent universe. One of my favorite captains, thirty plus years-on, we call him Uncle Ronnie, once told me, "When you start hating your patients, you start hating your job, and it's time to go." He's right, there are guys on the job who suffer from this creeping cancer, it poisons every public interaction, and there is only one cure. It's not our job to judge or select our customers, no matter their emergency.
So, can you really blame the family with a feverish child, lacking a trusty pediatrician, and the funds to pay her fees, for dialing 911 at midnight? They (or their better-off neighbors) pay our wages, buy our shiny fire engines and aid cars, and they know we will come. We stomp up the stairwells, knock on the doors, find the patient, collect vital signs, and arrange transport to the hospital, all for the price of a local phone call. There are system abusers and it's a tired cycle. Cynicism creeps into our conversations en route to these calls, friendly wagers are laid on the weight of the patient, the number of floors back down to the ambulance. But we come, we help, and it feels pretty good.
There exists a pernicious notion that fire departments can profit (at least in WA state) by billing insurance companies for the transport of patients. Utter dreck. The private companies that subsist on this commerce have optimized for this business by offering fast-food wages, exploiting high turnover, specializing only in patient transport. This can't scale to an organization whose charter is to "protect the lives of our citizens, their property, and the environment".
We shan't be in the business of padding our budget, it compromises our values and fosters inappropriate decision-making. Consider one example: the aforementioned feverish child. EMTs find no critical medical issue, just worried first-time parents. The clinic is open tomorrow morning, and the parents have transportation. Should we coax them to accept a ride in our aid car to the emergency room, at a cost of $600 or more, with the expectation that the fire department makes a buck? Most guys wouldn't (largely for selfish reasons - time, paperwork), but there is a potential for compromising our values. I reject this idea absolutely. A fire department cannot be a revenue generator, it cannot taint it's mission statement with the footnote of "*and make a few bucks!" There is no nobility in seeking a reward for service, it should strive to operate simply: you call, we come, we help.
All of which leads me to a digression, perking in my brain for years. It is impossible to not be familiar with, what I'll call, the Comic Book Mythos. The media has fully inoculated us with stories of Spiderman, Superman, Batman, and a pantheon of other superheroes, their struggles with Evil, personal conflict. For every Hero, there is a mob of anti-heroes, bent on selfish goals of world domination and financial gain. Just when Batman defeats the Dr. Octopus, the Joker arrives on the scene, spreading his mayhem. A superhero can't get a break, there's always another crisis! To boil it down, the Superhero is focused on the welfare of society, the greater good, the Villain on power and his bank account. Good vs. Evil, Love vs. Hate, altruism vs. self interest.
Further, it's been explored in legend, books, and movies that Good cannot exist in a vacuum. How can you know Good without the manifestation of Bad? Life on this blue planet wavers between two extremes, with happiness and contentment on one side, bankruptcy, death, and extinction across the way. It's called the drunkard's walk, made famous by the paleontologist Stephen J. Gould, and, to paraphrase, the goal of game is to maximize the amount of time you stagger down the sidewalk, before you eventually stumble into the street and are hit by the cosmic bus. Heavy stuff, and I wouldn't bring it up if I didn't believe that we can influence the duration and quality of our sojourn around our sun. We can, by voting for the ideals that further civilization, by electing candidates that will make things better.
This is fully my opinion, and I equate the Democratic ethos with Superman, the Republican's with Lex Luthor. I know it's a broad stroke with which I paint this landscape, and I'm speaking here of collective values, not the exceptional individual who crosses party lines (and maybe that's an argument for the unelectable Independent). Of course, it's not the perfect analogy, but I think it's fairly solid. So please consider carefully this November, when you make your choice.
Be a hero, vote.
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