The Men of Station 51                 By: Sharon

In the firehouse, the men not only live and eat with each other, they play sports together, go off to drink together, help repair one another's houses, and, most important, share terrifying risks; their loyalties to each other must, by the demands of the dangers they face, be instinctive and absolute.

                                 -excerpt from David Halberstam's book, Firehouse

The men of Station 51’s A shift gathered around their television in the day room. Firefighter/Paramedic Roy DeSoto walked over from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in either hand. He sat down on a wooden chair and passed one of the bowls over to the crew’s engineer, Mike Stoker, who was also seated on a wooden chair that he’d turned around from the kitchen table, and had placed beside Roy’s.

Mike took one of the bowls placing it between his legs, then grabbing a handful of the delicious smelling snack, when he felt a jab in his side. He looked at his co-worker, Marco Lopez, perched beside him, who had a distasteful look on his face.

“What?”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach ya to share?”

“Oh sorry, I love popcorn. I figured the rest of ya could share the other bowl.”

“That’s real mighty of you, Mike. I’ll remember that the next time I buy cookies,” Marco responded, grabbing the bowl out of the shocked man’s lap.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the ever-present sounds of Chester B Kelly’s mumbling, or humming, the guys could never figure out which, could be heard. Chet had the blender out and was making milkshakes for everyone. His ingredients were spread across the countertop.

“Okay, guys. My masterpiece is ready. Come an’ get 'em.”

Each of the men got up from their assembled places around the television and made their way over to the counter to pick up a glass of strawberry/banana milkshake. They each grabbed a tall glass and retreated back to the dayroom, once again gathering around the television. Chet, and the station's other paramedic, John Gage, both tried to sit in the same spot and ended up knocking into each other; causing their drinks to spill.

“Oh man, would ya look at what ya did, Chet! You spilled your shake all over me!,” Johnny protested at the sticky feeling now making its way down his chest.

“Me! I don’t think so, pal, this was your fault. You know I always sit beside Henry.” Chet snickered while watching Johnny grab hold of his wet shirt holding it away from his body.

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to be close to the TV is all,” Johnny responded, looking towards the Basset hound sleeping on the couch.

“Would you two twits be quiet! Some of us are rather interested in what’s being said on the tube,” Captain Hank Stanley informed his men rather sternly, pointing towards the television.

“Sorry, Cap,” they replied in unison.

Johnny hurried to the locker room in order to change his uniform shirt and wash up. He didn’t want to miss the documentary.

He arrived just in time to see a pretty woman's smiling face appear on the television, welcoming her viewer’s back from a commercial, turning towards the man sitting behind a long desk beside her.

“As you know, Steve,” she smiled at her co-host Steve Drake, “last month I took a film crew and followed a couple of policemen from the County Sheriff's Office, around, while they were both on, and off duty.” She turned back towards the television camera and her - at home - audience.

“It was a very intriguing look into a policeman’s life,” Steve shook his head slightly.

“With the response we received from that story; mostly people wanting to see more exciting action, we decided to look into another emergency type day in the life. This time, I had the pleasure of watching the six firemen making up the A-shift at Los Angeles County’s Fire Station 51.”

“Wow! I can hardly wait to see this! It must have proven very insightful!” her partner tried to help build the audience’s excitement.

“Oh, it was! These men are just as brave, if not braver, than the policemen we watched last month. They also have a very unique chemistry I hope our cameraman, Don, was able to capture.”

Steve smiled into the television and said, “Well, without further ado, let’s follow the men of Station 51.”

Johnny ran into the day room just in time to see the opening clip of the documentary. A tall, nice looking man in uniform was rather fluidly and gracefully raising the flags of the United States of America, as well as that of the State of California.

“Hey, that’s me! I don’t remember that,” Mike Stoker pointed at himself.

~~***~~

Four weeks earlier, a short, smartly dressed woman walked into Station 51. She was wearing a two piece burgundy suit, consisting of a blazer and a matching knee length skirt, a scarf wrapped around her neck, and coifed up hair. She walked towards a man unfolding a flag.

He turned at the sound of her approach,  “Hi, you must be the reporter from KTLA.”

“Yes. I'm Carol Wells. Nice to meet you. This is my cameraman, Don Jones,” she smiled towards the man filming them.

Reaching his hand out to her he said, “I’m Charlie. I work the C-shift. The man you probably wanna film doing this is Mike Stoker.”

“C-shift?”

“Yeah, we’re about to go off duty. I believe you’re here to film our A-shift. They’re a great bunch of guys, but I’ll give you the heads up now. Watch out for Kelly and Gage,” he smiled warmly.

“Thanks, Charlie, I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled, committing the names to memory.

“Anyway, Capt'n Stanley from the A-shift is in the office with Capt'n Hook…I mean Captain Hookraider, they’re going over our engine's runs from last night. He should be out in a few minutes to welcome you.”

“Okay, thanks, Charlie.”

“Yer' welcome, in the mean time, why don’t ya head into the kitchen, one of the guys'll get you and Don a cup of coffee. It’s the second door on your right,” he nodded at the open apparatus bay of Station 51 as he returned to the task at hand.

“Okay, we’ll do just that,” she motioned for her cameraman to follow her.

As she and Don started into the building, Captains Stanley and Hookraider made their exit from the office. They both noticed the two strangers immediately, but knew who they were. Mostly, because all of Station 51 knew of their approval to follow its A-shift around for a few shifts; but also because they recognized the woman from her current affairs show. She was a nice looking woman of about thirty. She was rather petite, standing only five feet three inches tall, with long chestnut colored hair and big almond shaped, hazel colored eyes. Being a woman of television, it also went without saying that she had a smile which could only be described as beautiful, which of course, could light up any room she walked into.

“Hello, Miss Wells. I’m Hank Stanley and this is Stan Hookraider. I’m Captain of the shift you’ve been assigned to. Stan is Captain of the shift currently on duty. Welcome to our station,” Hank said while lifting his arms and waving them through the air. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, that’s just where we were headed. This is Don Jones, he’ll be the one doing the filming.”

“Don, it’s good to meet ya. Right this way,” Hank smoothly pointed in the direction of the station’s kitchen. The two captains, one reporter, and one cameraman walked into the kitchen, to find the men of C-shift sitting at the table eating the last of their breakfast. Captain Stanley reached into the cupboard and took down three coffee mugs. He poured coffee into each, handing one to Don who stood beside him.

Carol did a quick glance around the room. She noticed it was one area which actually encompassed two rooms. To her right was a living room type domain that housed a television, a chalk board, a long brown leatherette couch sitting underneath a long window, a couple of chairs, and a bulletin board with a few papers tacked to it. There was also a pay phone hanging on the back wall beside the television.

To her left, as well as where she stood, was the kitchen. She thought to herself how much she’d love to have all that work space in her own cramped apartment kitchen.

Hank approached her with a cup of coffee in his hand. She accepted it with a smile and allowed the captain to escort her to a table perched in the center of the room. The captain pulled a chair out for her. Taking her seat, she added cream and sugar to her coffee as she chatted with Hank Stanley and Mike Thomas of C-shift. She kept a close eye on the clock. Having read her briefing papers, she knew the shift she’d been approved to follow started at eight a.m. and it was now only seven-thirty.

The new crew slowly started to make their appearance the closer to eight o'clock it became. Mike Stoker, as usual, was the first to arrive. He entered the kitchen and nodded his head to the men sitting around the table eating their breakfast. He made his way to the coffeepot, poured himself a mug, then proceeded into the day room to read his paper. He looked up as his captain made his way over to him with a very professional looking woman, and a man carrying a film camera. He, of course, knew who they were.

“Carol, Don, this is my engineer, Mike Stoker. Mike, this is Carol Wells and Don Jones from KTLA. They’re here to do a documentary on firefighters.”

“Hi, welcome to fifty-one,” was all the man in front of her had to say, before turning his attention back to his newspaper.

Carol wasn’t put off; the man had smiled when he’d said these all too few words. She wondered how she was going to get anything worthwhile out of him for her documentary, and silently hoped the rest of the crew wouldn’t be as quiet. This was television after all! Realizing this was the man who matched the name Charlie had given her outside, she made a mental note to get Don to film him raising the flags whenever he did the job.

As if reading her thoughts, Hank touched her lightly on the elbow, directing her away from Mike. “He’s a rather quiet person. But as long as you stay out of his way and let him do his job, he shouldn’t give you any problems,” the older man smiled warmly.

Just then firefighter Marco Lopez waltzed into the room, “Morning everyone. Beautiful day for you guys to start your days off.”

“Morning, Marco,” was the response from the men seated at the table, who started gathering up their breakfast dishes. Marco made his way over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. Noticing it was the last cup, he set about making a fresh pot while whistling the latest John Denver tune.

“Marco, come here, pal,” Hank waved at the man as he turned from starting the new pot of coffee.

“Morning, Cap,” he replied, as he came to stand in front of Hank.

“Marco, this is Carol Wells and her cameraman, Don Jones. Don, Carol, this is one of my linemen, Marco Lopez.”

“Nice to meet ya. I hope we don’t let ya down, and you’re able to at least get something of interest for your viewers,” Marco smiled widely at the two news people in front of him.

“Thanks, Marco. I’m sure we’ll be able to get some good stuff,” Carol sized the man up and noted right away how muscular his frame was. He was roughly five feet ten, sported a mustache, and had beautiful brown eyes. He was of Mexican decent and seemed to be a rather happy person. Carol herself was happy to find that at least one member of the crew she was about to film had at least a spark of personality.

After Roy DeSoto arrived and made himself a cup of coffee, he too, was introduced to the film crew by his captain.

“So you’re a paramedic?” Carol asked taking a seat beside him.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Is the public more accepting of you these days? As I recall, your reception wasn’t necessarily a welcome one.”

“Oh, it’s gotten better. People are actually relieved to see us arrive now.”

“You do provide an invaluable service,” she caught the small discoloration in his cheeks, and smiled.

After years of conducting interviews, Carol had developed a sixth sense about people. She believed the man sitting next to her, was probably a very caring, gentle, and unassuming man. She also believed these were qualities all the men who did his job probably possessed. Marco, she figured to be a determined, friendly, and chatty man if given the chance. The engineer, had puzzled her somewhat. She had to admit, he was a nice looking man, but learned upon meeting him, he was a man of few words. Strong and silent type she decided. Captain Stanley was very gracious with a friendly face and manner. She looked forward to watching these men in action. She still couldn’t judge whether any of the crew would allow herself and Don into their homes or not. She couldn’t help but suspect that so far, Marco would possibly be the only one.

She glanced at the clock and noticed it was ten minutes to eight. She started feeling anxious as she knew there were still two crewmembers who hadn’t arrived. Yet, their shift would begin in ten minutes. Looking around her, she noticed no one else in the room seemed bothered by this. As if on cue, lineman Chet Kelly came running into the kitchen with a smirk on his face.

“Morning, Chet,” a chorus of men sang.

“Morning,” he responded. Just like all the others, Carol noticed, he too, made himself a cup of coffee.

Chet took the unoccupied seat beside her, “Hi, I’m Chet Kelly,” holding his hand out to her.

“Hello, Carol Wells, KTLA. This is my cameraman, Don Jones,” she pointed at the man who sat across the table from them. The two men nodded at each other.

“So you’re here to film the fascinating world of fire fighting, huh?”

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a loud shriek was heard coming from the locker room.

“CHET!”

The room erupted with laughter, as men from both crews appreciated the moment. Carol, who wasn’t privy to the inside joke, looked over at Don. He shrugged his shoulders and continued his conversation with Charlie Dwyer.

Captain Stanley picked that moment to direct his men, “Okay fella's, roll call.”

He turned to Carol and Don. “You may want to join us. This’ll be the start of our next twenty-four hours.”

The group of four firemen, a reporter, and a cameraman followed the captain out to the apparatus bay. Don turned his camera back on and Carol watched with notepad and pen in hand as the four men she’d met only moments before, formed into a line in front of the smaller red truck facing their captain. She wondered where the fifth man could be when she remembered the loud howl, which had made all of the men in the kitchen laugh. Just then, a man with damp dark hair came sliding into the lineup, knocking into paramedic, Roy DeSoto. Roy braced himself holding his arms out to still his partner, John Gage, into a standing position.

“Morning, Gage,” Stanley frowned. Hank acted as though John's tardiness irked him, when in fact the captain didn’t mind at all. The paramedic was rarely late. He always seemed to get in line just in the nick of time, in spite of being the Phantom’s favorite pigeon.

“Morn'n, Cap,” he smiled.

Carol felt her knees go weak at the sight of the man, who was pinning his nametag onto his work shirt. With his dark complexion, sparkling eyes, and smile, well what could she say. She instinctively knew the camera was going to love this man. Hopefully, he doesn’t have a stale personality, she thought to herself.

“Okay guys, as you know, the local TV station, KTLA, has been given permission to film us over the next three shifts. Cameraman, Don Jones and reporter, Carol Wells are here from their news program, A Day in the Life, and will ride in the squad with John and Roy. Roy, I’ll leave it up to you to decide the logistics of seating arrangements, but remember safety comes first.”

“Sure, Cap,” Roy replied with a frown.

Facing all of his men once again, he stated, “Also, they’ve asked permission to film each of you during your off duty hours. Of course, the decision is totally up to you. If however, you do allow this, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that you’ll be representing the entire department. I’m positive you’ll all make 'em feel both welcome and remain courteous.”

“Right, Cap,” the five men responded.

After Hank doled out the day’s chores, he made his customary retreat to his office to finish some paper work from his previous shift. Roy followed closely behind, “Uh, Cap, can I talk to you a minute?”

“Sure, pal, do you want them with us?” he nodded towards Carol and Don, who had chosen to follow the fireman heading for the office.

“Yeah, I guess so, it’s about them,” Roy entered the office, with the film crew settling in to get a good shot.

“So, what is it?”

“I was just wondering; if the station gets called out, could we put one of these two on the engine? It would be less cramped for Johnny and me.”

“Sure, Roy, but you’ll still have a problem going to Rampart.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think they’ll both be able to come with us, Cap. Even if we were to put Johnny in the back, if we happened to get called out while coming back to the station it wouldn’t be safe.”

“Yeah, I can see your problem. I guess only one of  'em can ride in the squad with you.”

Carol, not liking what she was hearing, quickly jumped in, “If it’s a problem with riding in the back, I’d be more than happy to,” she smiled.

“No, Miss Wells, we couldn’t let you do that,” Roy responded.

“I don’t mind,” her eyes were pleading with the man standing in front of the Captain's desk.

“The problem, Miss Wells, is that our number one priority as firemen is always the public's safety. And Roy's correct, four people in the squad just isn’t safe. We just can’t do it, I’m sorry,” Hank came to his paramedic's aid.

“Well, we’re not here to cause problems so I understand,” the disappointed lady said. Pointing towards her cameraman as she spoke.

As Roy and the news team walked out of the office, they found Johnny with the drug box on the floor next to him doing the morning's calibrations. After replacing the biophone into its cradle, he took out his notepad and pen and started taking inventory of the drug box. He glanced up at Roy and smiled. Noticing the two strangers following his partner, he rose to his feet smiling from ear to ear, and met the young woman’s gaze. “Hi, I’m John…John Gage. You must be the reporter headquarters told us about,” he extended his hand.

“That’s me. This is my cameraman, Don Jones,” she said, accepting the paramedic’s large hand into her own small one.

“And your name?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, sorry, it’s Carol,” she blushed.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Carol. If there’s anything either of you need just let me...I mean us know,” Johnny said pointing from himself and then towards Roy.

“I will...I mean we will,” she nodded towards Don.

Johnny turned his attention to the camera and waved his hand through the air,  “Is that thing on?”

“Yes it is. I highly doubt we’ll be turning it off much. Except when you guys are sleeping.”

“Far out!” he said.

Rolling his eyes, Roy walked over to the biophone, picked it up and started to put it back into the squad, "Come on. We have a supply run to make.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, Roy,” he knelt down and closed the drug box putting it into the same compartment as the biophone in the squad; shutting the door once its contents were safely inside. He then made his way to the office to let Hank know they were leaving.

“Carol, would you or Don like to come with us or would you both rather stay here?” Roy asked the woman whose eyes were still following his partner.

“Just a minute, Roy,” after conferring with Don for a few seconds she turned to the senior paramedic and informed him, "I guess I’ll come along, Don wants to stay and film the rest of the guys for a while.”

“Alright then, climb aboard,” Roy waved his hand at the passenger door of the squad.

Carol opened the squad’s door and sat on the passenger seat shutting the door behind her. She shifted through her bag getting out the same pen and notebook she’d had out during roll call, “So what are you guys doing?”

“We’re making a quick trip to the hospital to fill up the supplies used by the last shift,” Roy let her know as he started the engine and patiently waited for his partner to return.

“C-shift,” she smiled, pleased with the lingo she’d already managed to pick up.

“Right, C-shift,” he smiled.

“What kind of supplies are you getting?”

“Well, drugs, needles, D5W, saline, gauze, those sorts of things,” he shrugged.

“And you do this every day I take it?” she asked, while nodding her head and taking notes.

“Do what everyday?” Johnny asked, leaning against the door of the squad. Not realizing Johnny had come up to the window made Carol jump at the sound of his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he chuckled.

“That’s ok, I was just wandering if you went to get supplies every day?”

“Yep, um…Carol, can I get you to slide over so I can get in,” Johnny motioned for her to move to the center of the seat.

“Oh sorry, of course,” she slid closer to Roy. As Johnny jumped into the squad, his partner slowly pulled out of the apparatus bay.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, cameraman Don Jones tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. He’d come to learn over the years, if you want people to be themselves in front of a camera, you had to make them forget it even existed. He sat quietly beside Henry on the couch and pointed the camera, now housing a microphone, at the three firemen now gathered in the kitchen.

“So how long do you think it’ll take before Gage hits on her?” Chet asked no one in particular while taking a sip of his coffee.

“At least by the end of the day,” Mike replied, looking up from his crossword puzzle.

“The end of the day, don’t you mean the hour?” Marco laughed, leaning against the counter with his hands crossed in front of his chest.

“Care to make a wager gentleman?” Chet asked.

“NO!” the other two firemen responded.

“Okay, no need to get uppity. I was just trying to make the day a little interesting.”

“You don’t think having a nice looking chic in the station at the same time as Johnny, isn’t interesting enough?” Marco questioned.

“What’s this? Don’t you gentlemen have chores to do?” Captain Stanley entered the room to get himself another cup of coffee. The three men scattered from the room, heading off to do their assignments for the day.

Hank poured himself a cup of coffee and took a moment before turning around. He was trying to decide how he felt about having the film crew around. He knew headquarters saw it as a great opportunity to spread some public relations. Although Hank himself agreed with the theory, he also wondered why it had to be his crew? Couldn’t they have picked a bigger, busier station? Why one so small? He assumed it was because of the central location of their station as well as the fact that one of the best, if not the best, paramedic team was assigned to his command. Finally, turning to face Don, he asked, “Have you gotten anything interesting yet?”

“Oh boy have I. A conversation Carol and I had with Charlie from the previous shift suddenly makes perfect sense. Speaking of Carol, she’ll love to see what I just got,” Don replied, tapping the side of his camera.

“Good, as long as we can be insightful to the public. Some people don’t understand our down times. They see fire trucks sitting at the station and begrudge us a little. They think if we’re not fighting a fire somewhere, we’re not really working. Anyway, Don, make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let me know,” The captain left the room shaking his head, thinking about finding his men sitting in the kitchen avoiding chores, and headed off towards his office again.

Wow! Carol will love that little speech. Oh well, I guess I should find the guys and see what else they do with their time, other than speculate on whether one of their co-workers is going to score with one of mine. He walked his way around the station and heard whistling coming from an open door. Walking through it he found Marco stripping sheets off of what looked like cots.

“So, is this where you guys sleep?”

Don let the camera pan around the room. It held roughly ten beds and a desk at the front of the room. The desk had a lamp and a telephone on it, and a chair in front. To the left of the desk, and beside one of the beds was a small night table. On it was a CB like device he figured was for communicating with the station's headquarters. Also in the room, were sort of half walls that acted like partitions, they were made of brick, just like all the walls throughout the station.

While Don looked around the room through the camera's lens, Marco looked up to see the man holding a camera which he now noticed had a microphone attached to the top, “Yeah this is it. I’m just changing the bedding from the previous shift. Then I’ll sweep and mop the floor.”

“You guys do your own house cleaning?”

“Yep, sure do. It’s against department regulations to let someone else do it. We do our own cooking too.” Giving a quick look towards the door to see if anyone else was around Marco turned back towards Don informing him,. “Don’t let the other guys know, but I’m the best chef in the house.” He gave a conspiratorial wink.

“Is that so,” Don chuckled. “Well, I’m off to find the other two. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

“Yeah, Mike’s outside hanging hoses and Chet's in his office,” Marco couldn’t hold back his laugh.

“His office?”

"Yeah, the latrine. He’s usually stuck cleaning it for some prank he’s pulled on Johnny.”

“Ah, I understand, his office, it’s a joke.”

“Sort of.”

Don turned on his heel, walked out of the bunkhouse and looked for a door that might be the latrine, as Marco had called it. Why don’t they just call it a bathroom, he thought as he walked through a door and found lockers to his left. He thought he’d entered the wrong room when he heard a toilet flush. He sat down on the bench in front of the lockers and waited for Chet to appear. As anticipated, Chet walked around the corner with a toilet brush in his hand. He was startled to see Don sitting there.

“Oh, hi. So you’ve come to show America what we firemen do when we’re not attacking some ferocious fire huh?”

“I guess you could put it that way? So tell me, why does Marco call this your office?”

“He said that! Boy wait till the Phantom hears about that!” He replied, while putting the brush away in a utility closet.

“The Phantom, who’s that?”

“Well, I’m not at liberty to say, but I can tell you he’s a guy who always gets even.”

Don couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t sure if the stocky man was serious or not, but he had the distinct feeling, the man before him knew how to have fun.

“Listen could you excuse me for a minute?” Chet asked, walking towards Don.

“You want me to leave?”

“No, I just need to get in here,” Chet pointed towards the lockers. “You’re sitting in front of Johnny’s locker.”

Don slid to the other side of the bench. He had the feeling he was about to witness the “Phantom” in action. He silently wondered if Chet realized that soon all of Los Angeles would witness his alter ego as well.

When Don vacated the spot in front of Gage’s locker, Chet set to work. He rigged his second water bomb of the day in this particular location. When he was happy with his work he took a look at the Smokey the Bear poster and turned it upside down, giving it two taps before he closed the locker door. He walked over to the sink and started cleaning the mirror above it.

Just as Don started to walk out of the room the klaxons sounded. Station 51, vehicle accident corner of Maple Drive and Second Avenue…Corner of Maple Drive and Second Avenue. Time out 8:52.

As Chet turned to leave, he looked at the cameraman and muttered, “Damn. We didn’t get you a helmet, follow me, Don.” The two men made their way over to some sort of closet in the apparatus bay. Chet pulled out a helmet for him.

 “You must wear this at all times. No exceptions, no excuses, got it?”

“Sure,” Don put on the helmet and walked over to the waiting engine. He was instructed to climb up into the seat Chet normally occupied behind Captain Stanley. Chet climbed onto the back of the engine and held on.

“Engine 51…KMG 365,” Hank said over the station’s radio and ran to the engine with a slip of paper in his hand. He climbed into the rig. Mike pulled out of the bay turning on the lights and siren.

Don had to admit the whole experience was quite exhilarating. Just like most little boys, he’d dreamed of driving a fire truck when he grew up. He alternated the camera between watching the road ahead and the engineer expertly driving the massive machine. His thrilling ride soon came to an end. When he jumped down from the rig, he felt his stomach turning into knots.

Two vehicles looked like they’d been in a smashing derby. One, a small two-door hatch back, was twisted so badly he didn't think anyone could have possibly survived. While the other, a half-ton pickup truck, was lying on its side. For the first time in his professional life, Don didn't feel like running in to get a close up. After getting a shot of the accident he decided to turn his attention to the man with the stripped helmet barking out orders.

“Marco, get a real line and start watering down the gas lines. Chet, check both vehicles for injuries, then help Marco.”

Hank took a quick look at his engineer who was in the process of setting up the hose pressure for his linemen, “Michael, when you’re finished there, unplug those batteries.” He then looked off in the distance to the sound of an approaching siren. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the rapidly approaching vehicle. Recognizing it as a police vehicle he frowned and climbed into the cab of the engine, and reached for his CB. “Squad 51, Engine 51, what is your ETA?”

Johnny reached for the squad’s radio, “Cap, we’re about two minutes from your location.”

Carol sat sandwiched between the two men and could barely hear herself think. Boy, I forgot how loud these sirens are. I wonder how many emergency response workers end up deaf in their later years? She glanced to her right, and found Johnny seemed to have left his charm back at the hospital. He had taken on a more serious manner. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would allow Don and herself to film him on one of his days off. She decided the charm, humor, and sense of fun he’d displayed at the hospital would be a nice balance to the scenes she knew some of her viewers might find a little squeamish. She hoped over the course of the next few days that Don would be able to capture the lighter side of him.

As the squad rolled up to the scene, Roy killed the siren and hopped out. Before getting out, Johnny turned to Carol, “Remember to stay a safe distance away from the accident. We don’t need to be looking after you as well.” He flashed her a smile, hoping to convey to her that he wasn’t trying to be bossy, just concerned for her welfare.

She nodded her head in understanding and climbed out of the squad behind him. She noticed Don had made his way over and was watching the two paramedics putting on their turnout coats. They both watched in amazement. She couldn’t help but think she was witnessing a well-choreographed dance. The two men went about getting their needed equipment and communicating to one another without saying a word. Then, the paramedics each headed for a separate car, again without speaking a word. Don had a hard time deciding which one to follow. He looked to Carol for guidance, but she just shrugged her shoulders,  "Did we get any papers telling us how close we could get?” she asked.

“Not that I remember,” he replied.

“Why don’t you shoot from here and we’ll talk it over with the Captain later.”

“Sure,” Don turned his camera around and decided to use his zoom lens to get a close up of paramedic Roy DeSoto looking through the windshield of the hatchback. He hated the thought of having to use the zoom lens. He knew the best way to get close ups was to actually move in on the object he was shooting.

Captain Stanley approached the film crew and put his hand on Don’s shoulder, “Listen, Don, if you want to get closer be my guest, but if anyone of my men ask you to do anything, you do it, no questions asked. Got it?”

“Yeah sure, but…”

“Don’t worry, they won’t ask you to do anything you’re not trained for, or unable to do. I was thinking of them asking something along the lines of you moving out of their way. Let’s go join them,” Hank smiled at the young man with the worried look on his face.

As Don got closer to the wreckage, his throat started to constrict somewhat. He wasn’t prepared for the awful sight before him. A man and a woman were both trapped inside the vehicle. The man looked to be unconscious, but the woman was awake. Her legs were pinned and she was looking straight ahead taking in small gasps of air. She was shaking and didn’t respond to anything Roy was saying. None the less, the paramedic continued talking to her in a soft reassuring voice.

“Cap, she has a lacerated jugular and her legs are pinned. We’re gonna need the port a power.”

“Sure thing, Roy.” Hank hollered in the direction of the engine, “Mike, we need the port a power over here. Marco, come help Mike.” 

Don continued to film Roy, who was by now all contorted in the vehicle and holding his hand on the woman’s neck, “You just take it easy, ma’am. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

“Roy, what about the driver?” Hank asked.

All it took was a simple shake of Roy's head for Hank and Don to understand the driver was not a victim, but a body.

Don felt a wave of nausea flow through his body thinking of the man who had breathed his last breath. He couldn’t help but think about what a horrible job his could turn into. Here he was filming this deplorable sight, while another man had gotten into this smashed up vehicle and was holding a complete stranger’s life in his hands. Taking his eye away from his viewfinder he looked at the captain, “Is there anything I can do?”

Hank shook his head, “No, but don’t worry, if we do need your help, we’ll ask.”

Don continued to film. Mike set the equipment into place and started efforts to release the woman’s legs out from under the dashboard. Marco ran up to the scene carrying a cervical collar and the backboard, placing them on the ground.

“Cap, Johnny has Rampart on the bio and wants to know if he should relay any info to them for Roy?” he asked Hank.

“Marco, tell Johnny the driver is a code F, and I have a female victim whose jugular is lacerated. I’m applying pressure, but she’s still pinned,” Roy answered, having heard Marco’s request.

“Got it.” Marco darted off to the other vehicle. Don allowed himself to turn from Roy and let the camera follow Marco’s brisk pace over to the pick up truck. He swung the camera back to Roy and then back to the truck again. What should I do, what’s going on over there? I see Carol is close by taking notes. I guess I’ll stay here and wait to see if I’m needed, he thought to himself.

Once the dashboard released the pressure off the woman’s legs. Mike bent at the knees and started to palpate the woman’s legs, “I think she has a broken left femur, Roy.”

“Okay, Mike, let’s get her onto the backboard.”

Hank grabbed the backboard and maneuvered closer to where Mike knelt. He lay it on the ground and then placed his hands on his engineer’s back, hoping to be a guide as Mike and Roy slowly, and as evenly as possible, extricated the woman from the vehicle. Once she was on the backboard, Stoker ran to the squad, returning with a splint in his hand, which he proceeded to place around her leg.

“Cap, I could use Johnny’s help,” Roy glanced up at his captain.

“You got it,” Hank took off towards the pickup truck.

Johnny looked up, squinting at his approaching captain, “John, Roy needs your help. What do you have here?”

“The little boy seems to be okay. Just some bumps and bruises and pretty shaken. His mother has a few broken bones. They’re both ready for transport."

“Okay, you go help Roy, Chet and I will stay with them until you’re back.”

“Sure,” Johnny turned to the young boy sitting on the ground holding his arm. “James, this is Captain Stanley, he’s going to stay with you while I go help my partner, 'kay? I won’t be gone long.” With the drug box and biophone in his hands, Johnny got to his feet and ran towards Roy, Mike, and the woman lying on the backboard.

“Wha’da ya need, Roy?”

“Mike’s gonna help me with her neck, could you get her vitals?”

“Sure,” Johnny set to work.

After the woman was taken care of and ready for transport, Johnny gathered up the supplies, looking up at Don, “You two better decide real quick who's coming with me.” Having said that, he ran to the ambulance, placed the biophone onto the floor, then handed the drug box to his partner. He shut the doors securely and gave two quick knocks, letting the driver know it was safe to leave. He turned see which of the film crew was coming. He threw his turnout coat into the squad and nodded his head to Don, “Let’s roll.”

Don climbed into the squad and turned the camera to the front windshield, watching the ambulance ahead of them, “Man that was some intense. You guys sure know what you’re doing.” He turned the camera towards the paramedic.

“Yeah, well, you know, we’re trained for that sort of thing. Unfortunately, we get a lot of practice,” Johnny explained, not taking his eyes off of the vehicle in front of him.

Arriving at the hospital, the cameraman soon got lost in the chaos. A pretty nurse placed a hand on his arm and told him he would not be allowed access into any of the treatment rooms. Shrugging his shoulders, he stood outside the door and waited, continuing to film the busy floor of the hospital. Soon the door beside him opened and Station 51’s paramedics came into view.

“Come on, Don. Our work here is over,” Roy nodded his head in the direction of the exit.

“How is she?” Don couldn’t help but ask.

“She’ll be okay. But she’s in for a huge shock when she finds out her husband was killed. It’ll probably slow down her recovery somewhat,” Don noticed that Roy’s face and tone of voice spoke volumes.

Returning to the station, they found the engine crew had, themselves, just returned.

 Johnny turned to Mike and offered, “Come on, Mike, let’s hang some hoses.”

“Sure, John.”

The two firemen made their way outside as the others went into the kitchen. Roy started to make a fresh pot of coffee while Marco inspected the fridge, trying to find out what ingredients were there so he could plan the day’s lunch.

Don decided to find out what was involved in hanging hoses, “Where can I find the paramedic and the driver that just left?” he asked anyone who was willing to answer.

Chet turned to him responding, “They’re out back, and if you value your life, don’t call Mike a driver. He’s an Engineer, pal.” He turned back to the fridge to peer over Marco’s shoulder, trying to find something to snack on.

Don glanced at Carol and they both shrugged their shoulders. What’s the difference, he wondered, as he made his way out back. He still drives the truck, doesn’t he? He turned and found the two firemen to his left. The engineer was up on the top of a tall tower, while the paramedic was at the bottom untying some of the hoses, which were attached to some type of a pulley

“What time do you want me to show up again?” Johnny was asking Mike as he pulled on a hose, letting it fall to the ground.

“Anytime after lunch is fine. I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem. Did you ask any of the others to help?”

“Yeah, Roy can’t come because he has to take Jenny to the dentist, Chet has a doctor's appointment. I haven’t asked Cap yet. So it’ll just be you, Marco, and myself, if Cap can’t make it.”

“Great, sounds good. Do you want me to bring anything other than my tools?”

“No, that’s ok. I think I have everything we’ll need.”

“'Kay, so how do the boys feel about having a new brother, or sister?”

“Oh, pretty excited. Of course they’d prefer to have a baby brother,” Mike chuckled, thinking about what his sons’ reaction would be if his wife, Beth, gave birth to a little girl.

“Well, isn’t that normal for boys? To want another brother,” Johnny responded, finally noticing Don was filming them.

“Yeah it is. I remember when my kid sister was born. I told my mother to trade her in,” Mike remembered shaking his head.

Johnny chuckled trying to imagine Mike Stoker as a child, “So, how is Beth doing anyway? If I remember correctly, her last pregnancy was difficult.”

Mike frowned, “Yeah it was. I remember thinking to myself that I never wanted her to go through that again.”

“Well, pal, looks like you goofed,” Johnny chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess so. Oh well, as long as Beth is able to remain healthy, the benefits will last a life time.”

“I’m sure they will. Looks like we’re almost done with these dry hoses. Ready for the wet ones?” Johnny looked up to Mike, squinting his eyes in the sun.

“Yep, ready.”

Johnny lowered the pulley and put a recently cleaned and still wet hose through it. He then proceeded to pull a chain, making the pulley and hose make its way up to the waiting fireman at the top. Mike took the pulley in one hand and took the hose out of it with the other. He then draped the hose over the “fence” and sent the grooved wheel back down to his waiting partner. The two worked for another twenty minutes in silence. Finally, placing the last hose up to dry, Mike started to make his way down. As he placed his foot on the ground, he noticed Don standing there with the camera on him. Blushing, the shy fireman turned to Johnny, “Let’s get a coffee.”

“Sure.”

Wow, Carol will be happy to know that the man does speak. It sounds like a few of them are getting together at his place. I’ll tell Carol. Maybe we could join them? He turned and followed the two men into the kitchen. Mike got down two mugs and poured coffee into each of them. He passed one to Johnny and put some cream in the other. He pulled out a chair and placed himself down at the table beside Marco.

Don scanned the room. Chet was on the couch petting a dog and eating a carrot, while all the other guys were sitting around the table. He chose to film them. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Carol looking at him. He took his eye away from the viewfinder and looked at her. She motioned for him to follow her so he turned his camera off, placed it on the counter and followed her into the apparatus bay. She turned to face him, “So, what have you got so far?”

Don pursed his lips while thinking, “Let’s see. I’ve managed to get three of them talking around the kitchen table, one of them making beds, another cleaning the bathroom, oh and the captain making a little speech. And of course, I just got the dark haired paramedic…”

“Johnny,” Carol smiled.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Don smiled back, “and the engineer hanging hoses, as they say.”

“Well, did you get any interesting conversations?”

“Um. Well yeah I think so. By the way, a couple of the guys are going over to the engineer’s tomorrow after lunch to help him build something. Maybe we could try to tag along.”

“Oh, darn, I just made arrangements to go to Captain Stanley’s tomorrow afternoon. Looks like we’ll be tied up,” she shrugged; wishing she and Don had been able to compare notes sooner.

“So, did you get anything interesting while riding with the paramedics?” Don asked.

“Nothing too interesting. But they do seem to have a very unique friendship or chemistry or whatever it is they share. They’re very in tune with one another. I get the distinct feeling they can communicate to each other without saying a word. It’s really rather fascinating.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that at the accident. They didn’t say anything to each other and yet they both went in different directions. I think it’s all in the eyes, or maybe they have some sort of plan of action already set up.”

“Whatever it is, I suspect it makes them very efficient. If I ever need help, I think I’ll request their assistance.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you would,” Don teased.

“What?” Carol asked, trying to sound offended.

“Oh, give it up, Carol. I know you, you’re my partner. You’re interested in, Mr. Paramedic,” Don nodded his head towards the kitchen smiling.

“I am not!”

“Uh huh?” he tilted his head towards the petite woman with a questioning look.

“Well, he is nice looking. A girl can admire that, can’t she?” she responded with a frown.

“Uh huh. Does he wear a wedding ring?”

“No,” Carol answered before she could stop herself.

“Thought so,” Don answered laughing.

Feeling flustered, Carol grabbed Don by the arm and led him back towards the kitchen, “Oh, just come on before we miss something.”

As they walked into the kitchen they noticed a game of cards had started up. Carol grabbed a chair and sat down beside Captain Stanley, while Don retrieved his camera, turning it back on as he turned towards the action at the table. After watching for a few minutes at the silent men playing cards, they finally started speaking, much to Carol’s relief.

“You can’t play that card!” Chet lamented, picking up a card and throwing it back at Johnny.

“Why not?” Johnny whined.

“You have to follow suit! No wonder you always end up doing the dishes,” Roy answered.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Johnny offered while playing another card.

Carol and Don couldn’t help but laugh, “Do you guys play often?” she asked.

“Everyday,” Mike said.

“Have to decide somehow,” Roy said playing a card.

“You’re playing to determine what?” Carol smiled with amusement.

“Who does dishes after lunch,” Marco piped up.

“I see, so dishes don’t automatically fall into kitchen detail?”

“Nope, not on my shift,” Hank jumped in, while placing the queen of spades onto the discard pile.

“Aww Cap, why did you do that?” Chet wailed.

“I’m trying to win you, twit,” Hank answered with a smirk on his face, while watching Chet pick up five new cards off the top of the deck.

“You’re playing crazy eight's?” Carol suppressed a laugh.

“Yeah, is there something wrong with that?” Roy asked softly, not wanting the woman to think he was angry, because he wasn’t, he was just asking a question.

“No, not at all, I was just expecting something more along the lines of poker I guess,” she smiled.

“Poker’s reserved for Chet’s house,” Johnny responded.

“Yeah, at the station we play dealers choice,” Chet offered.

“Oh, okay,” Carol shook her head.

All of a sudden the Klaxons went off, and Sam Lanier’s voice could be heard giving the station its instructions. Station 51… Station 8…Station 110… Squad 36… Battalion 14. Warehouse fire…35 Coleman Street…cross street Iris…35 Coleman Street…time out…11:35.

The men jumped up and went to their respective vehicles. As Carol started to slide into the squad, Johnny noticed she didn’t have a helmet with her. Making his way over to the closet, he reached up and grabbed one before returning to the squad. Roy handed him a piece of paper, which he took and placed between his teeth while pulling the squad’s door shut. He took the helmet and handed it to Carol, “You have to wear this,” he said while taking the paper out of his mouth and wrote the address and time in his notebook.

Carol took the helmet from Johnny and couldn’t help but notice how heavy it was. She placed it on her head and also noticed it was too loose. She pulled on the strap, but nothing seemed to happen. Roy glanced at her and smiled, “They can be kind of tricky, especially when they’re new.”

“I can see that.”

“Here, let me help,” Johnny said after pulling on his own strap, making his helmet snug. He turned to Carol and noticed the strap was twisted up on itself. “Can you take it off for a sec?”

Carol took the helmet off and handed it to Johnny. He took it and glanced up at the road, making sure the coast was clear to go through the intersection. Once that was accomplished, he set to work on the reporter’s helmet. Finally, untangling the strap, he handed it back to her, “It should work now,” he smiled.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Squad 51…Engine 51. This is our hydrant, set us up,” Captain Stanley’s voice could be heard inside the squad.

Roy slowed the truck to a halt beside the hydrant, letting Johnny exit the vehicle. Noticing Carol was about to get out as well, Roy placed a hand on her arm, “He’s just getting out to open up the hydrant and hook our engine up to it You may as well stay here and get a ride up to the fire. He’ll join us at the building when he’s finished.” Roy observed Johnny had retrieved his turnout coat and a monkey wrench from a compartment and had walked around to the driver’s side of the vehicle, so he pulled the squad away.

Johnny waited for the engine to drive up and pulled a hose down from Big Red. With that completed, he grabbed a coupler from Marco, and headed over to the waiting hydrant. Mike watched the paramedics movements from his side view mirror. Seeing Johnny had every thing he needed, he drove the engine towards the burning building. Don, who had been sitting in the back of the rig, continued to film Johnny’s actions as the engine drove away.

Once the engine reached the burning building all the firemen raced into action. Don watched as Marco and Chet listened to what their captain was saying to them, and then retreated to the back of the engine, grabbing a fire hose. Mike jumped down from the driver’s seat and ran around to the other side of the engine. This time the cameraman noticed that no words were spoken from Hank, the engineer went about his duties without instructions, or directions. Roy ran up to stand beside Hank, who was listening to instructions coming over his handie-talkie from the Battalion Chief. “Okay, Chet, Marco, attack from the main entrance. Roy, when John gets here, help Squad 36 do a sweep starting on the north end.”

After the overhaul and clean up was finished, six tired firemen and a film crew all walked into the kitchen of station 51, sitting down at the table.

Marco, remembering lunch was his responsibility, got up and headed over to the fridge, “How about soup and sandwiches, guys?”

“Sure Pal, anything is fine with us. We still haven’t solved the dish problem though,” Hank answered, looking at the cards still sitting on the table.

“I’ll tell you what. Don and I will be more than happy to do them for you,” Carol chirped.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hank replied with a frown.

“I know, but you're feeding us. It’s the least we could do.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. All we got out of Reed and Malloy was sandwiches, no soup,” she smiled.

“Okay, it’s settled then. Anyone wanting a shower, do it now,” Hank ordered.

Marco dashed out of the kitchen, hoping to make it to the shower first so he could start on lunch. He also hated the thoughts of eating his lunch smelling of soot and smoke. It usually made the food taste the same. Realizing he would be first, he smiled to himself. He heard Hank make the station unavailable for half an hour, giving the shift mates time to shower if they desired.

After Marco and Chet each had a shower, Hank made the station available and said a small prayer, hoping they would be left in peace to eat the smoked meat sandwiches and minestrone soup Marco had prepared. After sitting for a few minutes eating, Carol broke into the kitchen’s silence.

“Captain Stanley has agreed to allow Don and myself to come to his home tomorrow afternoon and conduct an interview. I was hoping that maybe all of you, at some point, would be willing to let us follow you around during your days off?” Carol asked casually, while inside she was begging.

The entire crew looked up and met the gaze of their captain. Hank’s face was a mask; no one could tell what he was thinking. After looking at the rest of his station mates, Marco finally chimed, “Sure, why not. Maybe you could drop by my apartment as well.”

“Great, Marco, that’ll be great,” Carol let out a small sigh of relief. Two down, four to go. She turned her gaze towards Chet; she somehow got the feeling he would love being the center of attention.

“Yeah, okay,” Chet shrugged his shoulders trying to sound as causal as possible. Silently his mind was racing, trying to figure out what sort of activity he should be doing during this up close and personal interview.

“Thanks, Chet. I’m sure our viewers would be very interested in finding out what you men do with your days off. Someone mentioned to me once that you guys hardly seem to work.”

“What! Roy was the first to react. Exasperated, he slammed his spoon into his bowl while looking up at Carol, the shock of her statement was written all over his face. 

“Well, this friend of mine mentioned to me that you guys work one day and then get two days off,” she replied, trying to sound more informative than accusatory. She felt bad, she could tell by the look on all the men’s faces that they had taken offense to her words.

“Did your friend also mention, that the one day we work is twenty-four hours long? That’s the equivalent of working three straight eight-hour shifts,” Johnny nearly shouted while pointing a finger at her. “And tell me another thing, does your friend's job require him or her to wake up in the middle of the night from a deep sleep, to go put out some stranger's fire? Or maybe leave his or her dinner to get cold so he or she could run off to climb some hundred foot crane to rescue someone?” Johnny opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by his captain.

“John, that’s enough!" Hank cautioned sternly. Reigning in his voice, he continued, "Miss Wells just made an innocent comment. I’m sure she wasn’t trying to offend anyone,” Hank wasn’t exactly happy with the woman’s comment himself, but he would not allow his men to explode. He was thankful the camera wasn't on. Looking at, and holding each of his men’s gazes, he was effectively letting them know to keep their thoughts on this matter to themselves.

“Look, I’m sorry, your captain is right. I didn’t mean to offend any of you. Trust me, I’ve only witnessed a couple of your runs, but I’m impressed. I didn’t mean to offend you. I think you should be applauded for the job you do. That’s basically why we’re here,” she said pointing towards Don. “We hope to let everyone in this city know how much they should appreciate the efforts you men do each and every shift.” She turned to look at Johnny. She found him silently eating his soup with his head down. Oh boy, I just blew it she thought. Now how am I going to get these guys to open up to me about their personal lives, let alone their thoughts and feelings about the job they do?

The room remained quiet for a few more minutes before Roy spoke, “I’ll have to check it out with my wife, but I’m sure she won’t mind if you want to come over.”

Taking in a deep breath, Carol acknowledged him with a small smile, “Thanks, Roy. I appreciate it.”

Getting up from the table and placing his dishes in the sink, Chet walked out of the room. Soon afterwards, the unmistakable sound of a basketball could be heard banging against the outside wall. Marco got up next and repeated the same motions as Chet, finally making it outside to play a game of one on one.

Don wished he could be outside filming them. He would bet his entire next paycheck that the two firemen were discussing the comment his partner had made. He silently tried to figure out whether she had said it as innocently as she claimed, or was trying to get some sort of reaction out of these men. Knowing her as he did, he believed it to be the former. Carol wasn’t one to make a comment just to get a rise, especially when they still had two more shifts of filming left to do. If she had been doing a hard core interview and the statement was actually true, then maybe he’d believe she’d made the comment on purpose. Finishing his lunch, Don also got up and made his way over to the sink carrying his dirty bowl, plate and glass with him. He placed the small rubber stopper in the sink and started to fill it with warm soapy water. Carol soon joined him while Mike, Hank, Roy and Johnny silently finished their meal.

When the room had cleared, leaving just Captain Stanley with the reporter and cameraman, Hank cleared his throat. “I just want you to know that I can’t tell my men what to think or feel, but I do believe if you let them talk this out amongst themselves they’ll come around quicker. It may take Chet and Johnny a little longer. They’re both a little more sensitive than the others. Deep down they know you just spoke before thinking. Of course, whatever trust you’ve been able to gain with them, you’re going to have to regain, but that’s your own doing.” He turned and left the room. Deciding to follow his own advise, he went into his office, allowing his men to discuss their feelings amongst themselves, silently he wished he was outside playing hoops with his men. He was dying to know what their thoughts on the innocent comment were.

Outside, five frustrated men continued to play basketball, but finally gave up when Marco was knocked to the ground and skinned his elbow. Reaching up, he took hold of Mike’s hand and allowed himself to be helped up off the ground. Roy made a beeline for the squad and took out the drug box and returned outside. Setting the box on the ground, he looked over Johnny’s shoulder, who was in the process of examining Marco’s wound.

“Just needs to be cleaned and bandaged.” 

“Sorry, Marco, I didn’t mean to elbow you like that, I guess I was just a little frustrated,” Chet placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

“It’s okay, Chet, these things happen. I’m a bit frustrated myself.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we all are,” Roy commented, while handing Johnny some gauze and tape. “I can’t believe she said that in a room full of firemen?”

“Do you think she said it on purpose, to get a reaction?” Chet wondered aloud.

“I don’t think so. I think Cap is right. She just made an innocent comment,” Mike shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I’m not so sure. I mean, she must have known she would get some sort of a reaction. Man, I bet she’s kicking herself because the camera wasn’t on, not because she caused us to react.” Johnny was getting worked up all over again.

“I agree with Johnny. She was out for blood,” Chet shook his head.

“I don’t know guys. She seems like a nice lady,” Marco winced at the small feeling of pain in his elbow, caused by the antiseptic ointment Johnny was smearing onto it.

“I don’t know about you, but she’s not coming any where's near me on my day off. She can just forget that idea.”

“Johnny, don’t get too worked up. Allowing her to follow you around on your day off might be exactly what you should do. You know how I feel about these reporters. We should grant these people into our private lives, to let the public see what we do when we’re not working. Seeing us as everyday people, with feelings and all, will show her she can’t go around making innocent comments like that.” Roy closed the drug box and stood up to return it to the squad.

“That’s just it, Roy. She should have to suffer some sort of consequence for her actions!” Johnny protested, while securing the gauze to his crewmate's elbow.

“Johnny, you know why this bothers us so much?”

“Yeah, I do, Mike, because she’s a nice looking chic with no brains!” Johnny offered.

“No, and you know that’s not true. The real reason the comment got to us is because she’s right. Most of the public seems to think we don’t work that much,” Mike grimaced as he said those words, hating the sound of them.

No one responded to Mike’s reasoning. Deep down inside, they each knew he was right. Carol was not telling them anything they had not heard themselves over the years. It was one of the reasons the department had decided to let her follow them. Public relations thought it a fantastic idea; they had actually sent each of the crewmembers a letter, encouraging them to let Carol follow them around while they were off duty.

The rest of the shift was awkward and uncomfortable for everyone. Johnny and Chet pretty much kept to themselves, which had a very unsettling affect on the rest of the guys. Mike spent the rest of the shift polishing Big Red or cleaning hose nozzles. Marco read every magazine and cookbook he could get his hands on; Roy leafed through the captain’s manual, while Cap made small talk with Don. Carol kept to herself, deciding to write some of the voice over for her documentary.

After the station had responded to a few other calls and had eaten supper, everyone, with the exception of Johnny, chose to watch television. Don sat with the guys while continuing to roll the camera, hoping they would partake in some small talk while watching an old movie. Carol was going to be leaving at eight o’clock, since it was agreed upon between the television station and the fire department that her staying with the guys' overnight wouldn’t be the best idea.

While sitting at the table continuing to work on the documentary, she noticed Johnny wasn't sitting with the guys and decided to look for him. She concluded the obvious choice would be out back, but when she didn’t find him there, she came back into the building. Looking around, she could not decide whether she should be entering doors when she had no idea where they led. She sighed and decided to knock before going into a room. When the first door she knocked on brought no response from within, she crossed the apparatus bay and knocked on another open door. She was rewarded by Johnny’s soft reply.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Are you decent?”

“Yeah,” Johnny tried to hide his surprise at hearing the reporter’s voice.

“Mind if I come in?”

“It’s a free country.”

Carol cautiously walked through the door. She noticed a desk on her right, but the rest of the room was filled with beds. It must be where they sleep she thought. She didn’t see Johnny anywhere. She looked around, and still not finding him, found her voice again, “Johnny?”

“Over here.”

She noticed Johnny’s head pop up over the top of a half wall. She walked over and found him perched on a bed, with a book in his hands. He looked tired, and like he wanted to be left alone.

“I’m sorry, if you want me to leave, I will.”

“No, it’s ok. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to come in here, well…maybe, Roy."

“Roy?” she asked as she sat down on the bed opposite Johnny.

“Yeah, he usually seeks me out if he knows I’m upset.”

“And you’re upset now, right?”

“Maybe a bit. I can’t help but think about what you said…”

“Oh, listen, John, I’m really sorry about that. I really didn’t mean to upset you guys! I wish I hadn’t said what I said. I get the feeling you all wish I would just leave and never show up again.”

Johnny smiled, “Well, I don’t think it’s that drastic, but your comment did hit a nerve. Don’t worry about it though, it’s nothing we haven’t heard before, it’s just never been said directly to us, that’s all.” 

“I’m…I’m…not sure what to say. I was expecting you to tell me you hoped to never lay eyes on me again.”

“Nah…but I will admit, it still irks me that people feel that way, but the only way we’re going to dispel that misbelief  is by showing people what we do, how we do it, and how it affects us. Both on duty and off,” Johnny shrugged.

“So, are you saying you’ll let us film you one day?”

“Sure, why not?”

“That’s great, Johnny! Thank-you so much. I promise to behave myself,” Carol smiled.

“No problem, I just might enjoy having a heated discussion with ya over this issue of the public’s perception of my job,” Johnny returned the smile.

“I’ll let you get back to your reading,” she pointed to the book in Johnny’s hand.

“Okay. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see ya later,” Carol got up and walked out of the room feeling somewhat better knowing Johnny wasn’t as upset with her as she thought he was.

~~~***~~~

The following morning, the crew woke to the sound of the morning tones. Captain Stanley called into dispatch to acknowledge the tones. After pulling on his bunker pants and placing the pant straps over his shoulders, he entered the kitchen and sat at the table waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, “Where’s Don?” he asked.

“He followed Mike outside,” Marco answered.

Just as Marco finished his explanation, Mike and Don entered the room. “Are we eating here today or not?” Mike asked.

Six firemen looked around the room at one another. Some days the men ate together at the station, and others they waited the hour until the shift was over, to eat at home. The trick being whether or not they’d be able to finish their meal if they started it, the chance of getting toned out was always present.

“I think we should wait. We only have forty-five minutes to go. If we start getting too active, it’s bound to happen,” Johnny replied, pouring himself a cup of the coffee that had finally finished brewing.

The others agreed with Johnny’s reasoning, so only coffee and small talk were served at the kitchen table on this particular morning.

~~~***~~~

At one o’clock that afternoon, Carol and Don drove up to the Stanley home. It was a two-story red stucco house, with black shutters adorning the windows. It was smack dab in the middle of a friendly, well looked after middle class neighborhood. What appeared from the outside to be a living room window, was large and getting southern exposure. On the other side of the front door, was a smaller window with what looked to be matching drapes to the larger window on the other side. The lawn was well manicured and there was a cobblestone walkway, leading from the driveway and attached garage, to the front wooden door.

The film crew patiently waited after ringing the doorbell. The door was opened by a handsome looking, blonde haired woman. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and her makeup was immaculate. Dressed in a loose fitting red blouse and a comfortable pair of black slacks, she smiled at her guests and stepped back into the house.

“Welcome, you must be from the television station, please come in. I’m Cheryl Stanley, Hank's wife. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi Cheryl, I’m Carol and this is my cameraman, Don. Thank you for allowing us into your home.”

Cheryl escorted her guests into a cream colored hallway. A magnificent oak staircase stood in front of them, leading to the upper portion of the house.

“My pleasure, Carol. I figured you’d be most comfortable in the living room, it’s right this way,” Cheryl led them through a set of French doors into a tastefully decorated room.

It was long and narrow with a huge beautiful bay window, which had a window seat taking up most of the southern wall. Off-white shears hung from the ceiling to the floor and thick tapestry drapes were slightly open and pulled off to each side, secured with a thick green colored rope with tassels hanging from it. A fireplace with huge rocks making up the hearth, was in the middle of the east wall. It would easily be described as the centerpiece of the room. A framed mirror was hung over it and on the mantle piece were some candle sticks, a few small pictures, as well as a vase of fresh flowers sitting in the middle. An area rug sat on the oak floor and a small dog was off in one corner, sleeping on his pillow. Cheryl pointed to the comfortable looking hunter green leather furniture and asked her guests to make themselves at home.

The only evidence in the room that Hank Stanley was a fireman, was a framed five by seven picture sitting on top of the floor model television set, which was placed on an angle in the corner beside the bay window. It was an official group picture of his crew, including himself. The men were all in work dress uniform and standing either on or beside the engine, which was sitting in the apparatus bay of Station 51.

“Hank is in the den, he should be out in a minute. Could I get you something to drink? I’ve just finished making some ice tea.”

“Sure, ice tea would be nice thank you,” Carol responded while taking a seat on the sofa.

“And yourself, Don?” Cheryl turned towards the man holding a film camera.

“Thank you, Mrs. Stanley, ice tea sounds great,” Don nodded his head in a friendly manner.

Cheryl left the room as Don also took a seat. “Maybe I should set up the tripod, that way I could control the audio levels better. What da ya think?” he asked not waiting for an answer before he got back up and started to place the camera on the tripod.

“Sounds good,” Carol replied while taking out a notepad and pen from her bag. She started describing the warm comfortable feeling that the Stanley’s living room exuded. 

Cheryl returned carrying a tray with a glass pitcher full of homemade ice tea, with ice cubes floating on the top. Also on the tray were four glasses, some napkins, and a plate of home made blueberry muffins. She placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Upon taking a seat, she started to pour three glasses of the ice tea and handed one to Don.

“So how long have you and Hank been married?” Carol asked, as the woman took a seat next to her holding an ice tea for each of them.

Cheryl once again smiled, “It’ll be twenty years next month. It’s hard to believe Hank and I have been together that long. Once the children came along, time just sort of flew by.”

Don smiled, knowing how true the woman’s statement was. He had two small children of his own and the years just seemed to keep speeding up the older they got.

“How many children do you have?” Carol questioned.

Glancing towards the television, Cheryl Stanley smiled, “We have two teenage girls. Catherine and Sandy, they’re both straight A students, Catherine is on the gymnastics team and Sandy plays basketball, we’re very proud of them both,” She once again broke into a smile.

“Is that a picture of them?” Carol asked, pointing to the television where an eight by ten photo of two young blonde girls sat smiling into the room. Both girls had their mother’s eyes and nose, but the younger girl obviously had her fathers smile.

“Yes, that picture was taken on Christmas Eve two years ago. Its Hank’s favorite.”

“I notice a picture of his crew as well?” Carol commented, hoping Cheryl Stanley would comment on the men in the picture.

Cheryl’s eyes wandered from the picture of her daughters, to the picture of six men dressed in blue with smiles on their faces. “Oh yes, they’re sort of like our children as well. Hank may not think of them that way, but it’s hard for me not to,” she shrugged. Carol let the silence fill the air. She didn’t want to interrupt the older woman’s train of thought. She instinctively knew the woman wasn’t finished with what she wanted to say.

After a moments silence, Cheryl spoke once again, “They’re a wonderful bunch of men. It helps ease a fireman’s wife’s mind, when she knows how well her husband’s co-workers perform their jobs. It’s funny, but when Hank was a regular lineman, I had to put a lot of trust in his Captain. It was a very difficult thing to do, but eventually I did. I had no choice I guess. Then, when he became an engineer, my fears lessened somewhat, not much, but some. After all he was still a fireman. And now that he’s a Captain, I have to put a lot of trust and faith in his crew. It’s sort of come full circle,” she stopped and looked at the younger woman sitting beside her and smiled slightly.

While she was making her speech, Don had slowly panned the camera to the picture of the crew, and left it there, but now he directed the camera towards Cheryl Stanley.

“You mentioned you think of them as your children?” Carol asked.

Cheryl’s face softened and a genuine smile cast across her face, “Yes, of course. In reality they’re not much younger than Hank or myself, but they are Hank’s men, and he looks out for them. I guess that just sort of carries over to off-hours as well. I worry about Johnny when he goes off camping by himself. I’ll worry about Roy’s and Mike’s children if they’re ill. The bond that has developed between these men and my husband is very strong. I care about those men a great deal. They’re a very close knit crew. My husband takes a great deal of pride in that fact. The funny thing is, he’d doesn’t see how much he contributes to the closeness they all share.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Cheryl sighed, “at least once a month, Hank and I host a dinner or barbecue, depending on the weather. Each of the men comes. Mike and Roy bring their families. The single guys will usually bring a date if they happen to be seeing anyone. Sometimes, Marco will bring some of his family members. Hank feels one of the ways to make sure the men are always looking out for one another at work, other than forming friendships, is to encourage them to know what’s going on in each other’s personal lives, and who the people in them are. It seems to work,” Cheryl once again glanced at the photo which had started the conversation.

At that moment Hank walked into the room., “Sorry I’m late, Carol, but I had an important phone call. I trust Cheryl has made you feel at home?” he questioned, as he bent over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, and then poured himself a glass of ice tea and took a seat in an armchair across from the sofa, beside the fireplace.

“Yes, Hank, Cheryl is a wonderful hostess,” Carol assured Hank. She noticed Hank throw a loving glance towards his wife and smiled. She knew at that moment, Hanks, daughters were very lucky to have these two people as parents.

“So has she been telling you horrible stories of how I abandon her for twenty-four hours at a time, and how that’s usually when the toilet will back up, or the fridge will decide to go on the blitz?” Hank chuckled.

“Hank, stop teasing,” Cheryl lovingly looked at her husband.

“No, not at all, she’s been telling us about your role as captain of this motley bunch,” Carol pointed her pen towards the picture.

“Oh, so I suppose she’s told you about the whip I keep in my locker and my penchant to abuse my men.”

Carol laughed while Cheryl admonished, “Hank!”

Hank joined Carol in her laughter and stole a look towards the picture on top of the TV, “Seriously, I’m very proud to call that motley crew mine. I enjoy working with them immensely. Somehow, I clicked with them when I took over as captain.”

“Took over? I’m confused.”

Hank leaned over and took a muffin. Picking up the plate he offered one to each of the women sitting across from him, both declined his offer. He placed the plate in front of Don, who happily accepted one.

“Yeah, Station 51 was a brand new station six years ago, with brand new crews. I inherited them. I’m not their original Captain. I took over for Captain Hammer,” Hank shrugged his shoulders, while peeling the paper wrapping from the muffin in his hands.

“Was it difficult?” Carol asked.

He took in a deep breath, “You know, I thought it was going to be. I was nervous; after all they’d been together for about nine months when I took over. But they made it easy. They welcomed me with open arms and I’ve never forgotten that. I know if one of my men was ever to leave, for whatever reason, the new guy coming in would be welcomed. My men are very professional. I believe that each must have had a very good captain when they first entered the department.”

“You don’t think that you have anything to do with it?” Carol asked, starting to understand Cheryl’s comment about Hank not seeing his influence on the crew's  closeness.

“I don’t really know, because I don’t know what they were like before I came along. For all I know, they've changed.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Hank. When the idea for us doing a story on firefighters was proposed to the department, they immediately told me if it was approved, they’d put us with the A-shift from 51. When I asked them why, they told me because your crew was the best in the department. Your shift is highly regarded, Hank, and I believe it starts at the top,” Carol responded.

Hank blushed slightly and offered, “Like I said, they’re the best.”

After another couple of hours with the Stanley’s, Carol and Don finally left and headed for the television station, to take a look at what they’d managed to get from the afternoon’s interview. Carol sat back with pleasure, wondering how she was going to incorporate Hank's comments on each of his crewmembers she’d managed to get him to share during the interview.

~~~***~~~

The following afternoon, Marco Lopez was busy folding his laundry when the buzzer to his apartment went off. Carrying a pair of sports socks over to the speaker on the wall, he pushed on a small tan colored button and spoke into the speaker, “Hello?”

“Marco, it’s us,” Carol responded, and was rewarded by a loud buzz indicating the doors had been electronically unlocked.

Upon reaching the fifth floor, she and Don turned to their left and headed down the long hallway. A door at the end of the hall opened and Marco appeared, a smile on his face.

 “Hi." 

“Good afternoon. This is a nice building you live in.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty new. It’s only about five years old. I like it,” Marco said, while leading the film crew into his cozy two bedroom apartment. “Can I get you a coffee, tea, or maybe something cold to drink?”

“A coffee would be great,” Carol replied.

“Water, thanks,” Don announced.

After getting his company their requested beverages, Marco placed all his laundry into a basket and carried it down the hallway and into his bedroom. He returned to the living room, after making a brief stop in the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He sat on a reclining chair and smiled towards the film crew, “So, did Mrs. Stanley make you some of her home made ice tea?”

“Yes she did, that was home made?” Carol asked astonished.

“Of course, she’d never think of serving you somethin' she hadn’t made herself.”

“Wow, it was the best ice tea I’ve ever had. Now I’m not so surprised!”

Marco smiled as well, realizing, possibly for the first time, how well he knew the rest of his station mates and the people in their lives. “Did you get to meet Hank’s daughters?” he wondered.

“Briefly, they arrived home from school about thirty minutes before we left. Very nice, friendly girls,” Carol answered and realized that Marco was genuinely interested in his questions, and not just making small talk. “Do you get to spend much time with your co-workers away from work?” 

Marco took a sip of his coffee and looked at Carol, “Yeah, I do. More so than at any other station I’ve ever worked at. We just seem to be able to make time for each other I guess.”

As Marco was talking, Don panned the camera around the room. The walls were painted a soft terra cotta color and family pictures all in black frames seemed to dominate the wall above the couch. There was a stereo sitting on top of a beautifully carved wooden table. Records sat on its lower shelf; floor model speakers sat on either side of the table. A TV occupied the corner of the room by the sliding door leading to the balcony. Two end tables that didn’t match, but with matching lamps, sat on either end of the deep blue couch. Plants were both in front of the sliding door leading to the balcony, as well as outside on the balcony. As he started to turn the camera back towards Marco, the cameraman noticed a framed five by seven picture sitting on one of the end tables. He stopped the camera and held it on the picture of six men wearing blue with smiles on their faces.

“Do they ever stop by the station? Hank’s girls?”

“No never, but I see them whenever Captain Stanley holds his monthly dinners. They’re very smart young women, Cheryl and Cap are doing a great job raising them,” Marco looked towards the picture on the end table.

“What about your family? Are you from L.A?”

“Yep, born an' raised. My parents live in the valley and I have two sisters, both married with kids of their own, and I have one brother. He’s married as well, no kids yet,” he looked up at the wall above the couch. His eyes dancing over the different pictures hanging above the reporter's head.

Don noticed the action and swung the camera towards the wall. Slowly taking in each picture, allowing the audience, who would eventually see them, the chance to try and understand the fireman, not only through his words, but through his choice of photo’s hanging on the wall.

“Are you close to them?” Carol asked following Marco’s eyes to the pictures. She noticed, like Marco, all the members of the Lopez family had nice smiles and kind eyes.

“Oh yeah, my mother wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s always making an excuse to get us all over for dinner. She usually waits until I have a weekend off and then springs her excuse on us all,” Marco smiled, while looking at his favorite picture of his mother. It had been taken at least twenty years earlier and was black and white. Her features were soft, as she sat on a lawn chair watching her four children playing.

“How does she feel about your being a fireman?”

Taking his eyes away from the picture and looking at the woman across the room from him Marco replied, “She worries. I don’t think she’s exactly happy with my choice of profession, but she understands that it’s just that, my choice. So instead of fighting me on it, she accepts it, and all of my crew mates into her life, and gives them all lectures about keeping me safe.”

“You’re kidding?” Carol smirked.

“Nope, especially Chet. Poor Chet. He sees my Mom coming and he starts mumbling under his breath,” Marco laughed.

“Why Chet?” Carol asked.

“Well, we’re a team of sorts, just like Johnny and Roy are, and Cap and Mike I suppose.”

Frowning Carol asked, “How so?”

“We’re always working side by side at a fire. Whether we’re fighting it outside or in, we’re always together and looking out for one another. The second one of us suspects a flash, an explosion, or a possible collapse of some sort, our first reaction is to make sure the other knows it, and gets out of, or away from the building,” Marco shrugged.

Carol sat in silence for a few seconds realizing for the first time how much these men depended on each other. It was not like they were sales men, teaming together with the hopes of reaching a sales quota so they could attain a bonus. Or men playing some sort of a sporting event, hoping to win a trophy, or a couple of reporters trying to make a deadline for that matter. These six men, and many more like them, depended on each other to keep from being injured, or worse yet, to keep from being killed. She hoped the magnitude of Marco’s words would not be lost on her viewers.

Shaking her head slightly she asked, “You mentioned Captain Stanley and Mike being a team?”

“Oh yeah, they’re a great team,” Marco offered. Seeing the confusion on Carol’s face he elaborated, “You see, just like any sort of team, you have a leader and a co-leader. Mike is Cap's  co-leader.”

“Is this written or unwritten?” she asked, trying to visualize Mike Stoker, to recall whether or not his uniform had anything different on it, that would distinguish him as his Captain’s assistant.

“Both,” Marco responded, “just like the military or police departments, a fire department has a chain of command. An engineer falls directly under a captain. So if anything were to ever happen to Captain Stanley while we’re on a run, Mike would automatically take over, if another Captain wasn’t on the scene,” Marco shrugged his shoulders once again.

“Has it ever happened?”

“Once. Captain Stanley was electrocuted at a rescue once. Mike jumped right in and radioed for backup and then started instructing us on what to do. He was great, he'll make a great captain one day.”

After chatting with Marco a while longer, Carol and Don accompanied him to the grocery store, the barbershop and finally, to a local restaurant where the off duty fireman met a friend for a quick lunch.

Leaving Marco and his friend, Cameron, at the restaurant, Don and Carol arrived at the KTLA television studios, and immediately went into an editing suite to review the morning spent with Marco Lopez.

“Boy, these guys are a rare breed, aren’t they?” Don commented after listening to Marco’s explanation of how he and Chet Kelly were a team.

Not taking her eyes off of the screen, Carol nodded her head in agreement, “Are they ever. But what gets me, is how they seem so non-chalant about it all. They just go on about their daily business, not giving the risks of their jobs a second thought.”

A silence fell between the two as they sat watching Don’s camera savvy. “So, tomorrow we’re back at the station, right?” Don asked.

“Yeah.”

Part Two