Part 2

 

 

~~~***~~~

 

Station 51…house fire…1-0-5 Division Street…cross street Camden…1-0-5 Division…time out 10:47.

 

Don Jones climbed down from the rig and let the camera take in the sight before him. A small white bungalow was on fire, with smoke rising into the sky from behind the house. Other than the fire, the house looked like any other in the middle class neighborhood.

 

The black roof shingles matched the color of the shutters. The front porch was small but welcoming to any visitor, as well as to the eye of any passerby. Four beams went from the ground to the bottom of a small roof over the porch attached to the house, protecting the black colored door. A beam ran from the arch of the porch doorway, across to the other two beams at the corners and then along the sides until they met the front of  the house. Along these beams, both on the front and sides, hung long narrow black flower holders. Bright pink geraniums as well as white and deep purple petunia's stood proud in the morning's bright sunshine.

 

The front yard was immaculate. The grass was well groomed and as green as any Don had ever seen. One would only have to take a brief look at this yard to know it was the pride and joy of its home owner. A path of pebbles led from the sidewalk at the street to the porch's front step. On either side of the walkway was evidence that the grass had been mowed on the vertical. In the middle of the yard, to the right of the pebble path, stood a large oak tree. It's leaves bristling in the gentle breeze, as if waving to all those admiring its beauty.

 

On the left hand side of the walkway stood a cement bird bath. On any other day, the patina colored bath was being used by any number of birds. But on this day, the birds kept far from their favorite watering hole in the neighborhood.

 

The cameraman stood mesmerized at the unnatural site of thick black smoke billowing from this serene scene before him, until he heard Captain Stanley’s voice.

 

“Chet, Marco, inch and a half around the back.”

 

Carol followed the two men, making sure she wasn't getting too close, or at least close enough to be a nuisance. She stood watching the two linemen go about their task, shaking her head slightly as she did so. She couldn't help but remember the conversation she'd had the day before with Marco concerning himself and Chet looking out for one another. She also couldn't help but remember the words spoken by Captain Stanley about his sub-ordinate, Marco Lopez.

 

"Marco has that special gift of quietly doing his job. He's never dramatic about it and never takes his responsibilities lightly. He doesn't think he's special, but he is. Unfortunately, not many people in this world hold firemen in high regard, but if they were to choose one man to think highly of, Marco's a good choice."

 

"Everything he does, from fighting fires, to cooking, to playing a pickup game of basketball, is done deliberately and with a gusto, so to speak. Marco also has that unique ability to make everything look like it's done non-chalantly, but it isn't. He's a very methodical thinker."

 

"He also manages to keep Chet in line most of the time, which we're all grateful for." Hank laughed.

 

"Marco doesn't seem to speak much while at work. Is he shy?" Carol asked.

 

"No, he's just quiet. When he feels the need to voice an opinion, he does. On a scene, he listens to everything before speaking up, if he thinks differently. He's very much  a non-confrontational person. He's a peacemaker if you will. He likes to play the role of buffer, and he does a very good job of it. It can't be easy with the bunch at our station."

 

"We're all so different, with such different life experiences behind us, but Marco, more so than any of the others, seems to be able to always see past it  and see the individual. He's never afraid of taking sides during any conversation, even if he knows he's going to suffer the wrath from someone else. It doesn't matter to him. He strongly believes in good versus evil and wrong versus right."

 

"He also brings a sense of spirituality to the station. Something all stations should have. Although he's a religious man, I don't think I've ever heard him preach to or judge any of us for anything we may have done. Like I said, he brings his spirituality to work, not his religion. Because of that fact, I think the others respect his views when he does voice them."

 

"He can also be a firecracker when he lets loose, he has a child like enthusiasm. He can get  just as excited about something as Johnny can, but when Marco does it, you know he's passionate about it. Seeing Marco light up like that is rare, but when I do get a glimpse of it, I enjoy it and find it refreshing. He once named a mouse who invaded the station. Marco has respect for all living creatures. I honestly think he wouldn't have spoken to Chet for days if Chet had managed to kill the poor thing."

 

Coming out of her self induced trance, Carol made her way back to the front of the house just in time to notice a woman walking towards the engine with a stunned look on her face; Don had noticed as well and allowed his camera to follow her movements. She approached Mike Stoker, who was busy setting up the water pressure for his station mates.

 

The woman placed a hand on the engineer’s arm, “Excuse me, are you in charge?” she wondered.

 

Mike turned and looked down at the woman, “No ma’am. Are you okay? Is this your house?”

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“Is there anyone inside?” Mike asked.

 

“No, I was home alone. Please, can you save my home?” the woman pleaded.

 

Mike looked around and found Captain Stanley talking with Roy, “Cap, Roy,” he hollered.

 

Hank and Roy approached Mike and noticed a woman of approximately sixty, with tears in her eyes, standing beside their engineer, whose hand held the woman's arm in the most gentle of ways, and was busily talking with the woman.

 

“What’s your name ma’am?” Mike was asking, as the captain and the paramedic arrived to stand beside him.

 

“Mary-Lou Johnson.”

 

“Mrs. Johnson, this is Captain Stanley, he’s in charge, and this is one of our paramedics, Roy DeSoto, they can help you.” Mike gently guided the woman towards Roy, then turned his full attention back to the rig.

 

“Mrs. Johnson, why don’t we have you sit down on the back of the squad here, “ Roy said, while cautiously steering the woman towards the back bumper of the squad.

 

“I’m okay, young man. I’d just like to know if my home can be saved?”

 

Roy looked up at Hank, knowing his captain would want to field the question. Hank's face was filled with compassion. Roy went about the business of silently getting the woman's vital signs, while keeping at least one ear open to what his Captain was telling the home owner.

 

"Ma'am, my men are highly skilled and we'll do everything in our power to save as much of your home as possible, but I can't make any promises. If we can get to the source of the fire and contain it, then saving a major portion of your home is in our favor. But it would help if you could help us with this. Do you know where and why the fire started?"

 

"I had just plugged in my iron. Tom, that's my husband," the woman smiled for the first time since the fire department had arrived. But then, thinking about her husband always brought a smile to Mary-Lou's face, "has a very important meeting with one of his clients tomorrow. So I decided I'd get a head start and iron his best suit. But I was feeling so tired. I sat down in my chair while waiting for the iron to heat up, I didn't mean to fall asleep,  honestly I didn't. Oh heaven's me, what have I done? Our home, our beautiful home!" Mrs. Johnson was starting to become agitated.

 

Her speech took on a higher pitch, and she also sped up the pace of her monologue. On top of the change in her voice, she was also now rubbing her hands together, as one would while washing them underneath running water. Her eyes were filling with tears. Although Hank and Roy were accustomed to this sort of behavior from homeowners, as the reality of their home being on fire sank in, Don wasn't and started to feel extremely uncomfortable. Not only for himself, but for the woman as well. He couldn't begin to understand what it would feel like to watch as your home burned. He looked first at Hank, whom he noticed passed the control of the situation over to his paramedic with the simplest and almost unnoticeable nod of his head.

 

"Mrs. Johnson, listen to me. We need to ask you a very important question." Roy asked.

 

"Oh, okay," Came the reply.

 

"Where in the house is the iron?"

 

"In the living room."

 

"And where's that?"

 

"At the back on the left hand side."

 

"Okay, that's great." Roy said as he looked up to see his Captain heading off in the direction of the house, while his partner walked towards him.

 

"Mrs. Johnson, you're going to have to slow your breathing down a bit. Can you do that for me?"

 

"I'll try," she said through some rather heavy breathing.

 

"This is my partner, Johnny."

 

"Need any help?" Johnny asked Roy before turning to Mary-Lou and smiling what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

 

"No, everything is under control. Mrs. Johnson is just a little stressed, but she's gonna be fine. Vitals are relatively normal."

 

"What do you mean by relatively?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice.

 

"They're a little high, but that's to be expected. It's nothing to be concerned about." Roy answered as he sat down beside his patient. Keeping a close eye on her for any sudden change in her demeanor, signs that would tell him her small state of shock was worsening.

 

Johnny, seeing his partner had things under control and didn't need his help, pulled his turnout gear from the squad and walked toward the back of the house to help the engine crew.

 

 Don had followed Johnny's movements, but when the fireman disappeared around the house, he swung the camera back towards Roy and Mrs. Johnson. The two still sat side by side on the runner board on the back of the squad.

 

Roy engaged the woman in small talk. Don thought it was a surreal moment until the words of Captain Stanley came back to him. He remembered the captain had talked about his crew during the morning they had spent with him one on one.

 

"Roy is a compassionate and caring individual. He'll do what ever it takes to help a victim. Whether it's crawling into a beat up vehicle, diving off a cliff into the water, walking into a burning building, or just talking with them, he'll do it. Nothing is too big or small a task for him. He's one of the original six paramedics in the state, heck in the country! Did you know that?"

 

"No!" came Carol's shocked reply.

 

"Oh, yeah, Roy's one of the originals. He actually helped spearhead the whole program. He helped with recruiting and then with the training process as other firemen signed up." Hank shook his head in the affirmative.

 

"He has a good head on his shoulders. Quick on his feet too. That's important for any fireman, but I think it's doubly important for a paramedic. They're the first ones to enter into what could be a very unstable situation, Roy sizes situations up pretty quickly. And he's usually bang on. It's not too often he's wrong about something."

 

After a few minutes silence, Hank spoke again, this time he was much slower, as if he were choosing his words very carefully. "Roy's a grounder."

 

"Pardon me?" Carol asked.

 

"A grounder. You know, stable, grounded. He doesn't shoot from the hip. He's a stabilizer. He keeps those around him focused. Wonderful quality to have. He's extremely gentle as well. I think scared children respond well to him. He's able to calm their fears. Probably comes from his parental skills."

 

"Every station needs a Roy DeSoto. He believes very strongly in what he does. Determined in his actions, which may not always be evident. He has a way of interacting so naturally with victims they may not even know they're being observed, but that's exactly what he's doing if he's just plain old talkin'  with them. He's looking for signs of shock more than likely. He's very good at it. A natural at sizing up a persons actions and re-actions."

 

"I sure hope you get to see what I'm talking about while you're riding along with us. It's something to see. Roy DeSoto acting non-chalant, all the while, determining whether or not his seemingly fine victim needs to see a doctor."

 

"I hope so too, you make it sound very intriguing." Carol smiled.

 

"….so that's when we decided to buy this house. It's lovely isn't it?" Mrs. Johnson asked, tears welling in her eyes.

 

"Yes, Ma'am. Does your husband look after the lawn himself?" Roy asked, wanting to keep Mary Lou occupied and engaged in conversation, while keeping a close eye on her.

 

"Yes. Little Donny Wilkins down the street comes around every Saturday and asks Tom if he can cut the grass, but Tom won't have none of that." She chuckled. "Nope, he insists on cutting it himself. He spends hours out here looking after the lawn. It's his pride and joy." She smiled a rather forced smile at Roy.

 

"He does a nice job. My wife would be very envious. She claims I'm too rushed when doing the yard work." Roy smiled back.

 

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two. Mrs. Johnson looked down at the road while Roy looked up at the house in front of them. A moment later he heard a small snivel. He turned towards the woman seated next to him. Noticing tears well up in her eyes, Roy turned back to the fire. The smoke wasn't as thick anymore, nor was it shooting as high into the sky.

 

"What have I done? Our home! I can't believe I did this!" Mrs. Johnson sobbed heavily.

 

"Mrs. Johnson, it's going to be okay. It looks like the guys have the fire contained and under control. It'll only be a matter of minutes before they have it completely out. I'm sure everything will work out."

 

"But Tom is going to be so upset. I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again."

 

"I don't think that's gonna happen. I'm sure your husband will be relieved to know that you're okay. I'm sure that's what's most important to him."

 

"Do you really think so?" Mary Lou asked tentatively.

 

"I think so." Roy smiled once again placing his hand on the woman's arm, just as Mike had done earlier.

 

~~~***~~~

 

"I can't wait for you to see the footage I got of Roy at the fire!" Don exclaimed. "It was amazing. Remember how you told the captain you'd love to see Roy in action."

 

Carol just nodded her head when she looked up from her notes.

 

"You're going to get your chance. While the rest of the crew was putting out the fire, he just sat on the back of the squad with the homeowner. But remember what Stanley said, about Roy's ability to interact naturally while sizing up a situation. Well, that's what he was doing. Boy, it was some'n else."

 

"Can't wait to see it." Carol responded, for the first time thinking her story was finally taking shape. She had originally hoped to use this crew as a blanket for the entire department. She now realized this story would better serve its purpose if it developed into a story about these men specifically. She would of course convey to her viewers that every station in the department had crews such as this, but instinct told her this wasn't entirely true. She was pretty certain this group of men was unique.

 

~~~***~~~

 

Carol and Don met the next morning at a local diner for breakfast. After fueling their stomachs, they proceeded to go over their notes for the day's itinerary. First they'd meet Chet Kelly at his apartment for a one on one interview and then grab a quick bite to eat before heading over to Roy DeSoto's home for his one on one.

 

Carol couldn't wait to get another chance to meet with a fireman's wife. After once again going over the interview with Hank Stanley at home, she realized her story wouldn't be complete without the female perspective. Cheryl Stanley had spoken eloquently about her thoughts and some of the fears a fireman's wife faces on an almost daily basis. She had also managed to convey a deep sense of pride in her husband's chosen profession. Carol couldn't help but hope the paramedic's wife could bring yet another feminine point of view to her piece and possibly some more insight.

 

After paying for their breakfast and coffee, the film crew left a tip on the table and left the restaurant. With Don behind the wheel of the KTLA van, they snaked their way through the winding streets of  an older section of the city. It consisted mostly of rundown buildings which had at one time been the pride and joy of their owners.

 

As the van continued to meander through the neighborhood, Carol's thoughts traveled back to Hank Stanley's house. When the man had talked of Chet Kelly, his voice was filled with a fatherly sort of pride. Yet, while at the station, the man would often refer to Chet as a twit! Carol was slowly coming to the conclusion that these six men were each a mixture of complex personalities.

 

"…Chet's a big kid with the heart to match. He would deny that up and down, but it's true. Somehow, he manages to keep the firehouse light and at the same time, totally gets under your skin."

 

Carol smiled at Hank's words, having seen for herself the havoc Station 51's reigning court jester could produce in his wake.

 

"But let me tell ya, he's extremely proficient at what he does. Chet's exceptionally focused while on scene. He knows what's going on around him at all times. He has great instincts. That's something you can't teach. Either you have it or you don't. If my house were burning down, he's the man I'd want on the nozzle."

 

"I'd pit Kelly against  any other fireman in the department, knowing he'd come out on top. He understands the nuances of fire. What makes them breathe and take on a life of their own. I've always believed he'd be a great asset to any of our Hazmat stations."

 

"Hazmat?"

 

"Hazardous Material Stations. They deal with chemical fires, spills, or any type of disaster involving hazardous material. Chet excels in that area. He's extremely fine tuned to what makes a fire more dangerous, or potentially more dangerous."

 

"I also think he'd make a pretty good search and rescue man, or paramedic. He has the ability to foresee most problems which could arise from any situation we find ourselves in. I guess you could safely say, I think Chet is the best all-round fireman I have under my command."

 

"This surprises you?" Hank chuckled at the woman's round eyes.

 

"A bit."

 

"Don't let Chet's personality fool you. Sure he can be a major twit sometimes, but he's only trying to bring some fun to the station. Trust me, there are days when I feel like sending him to the bunker room, Johnny too for that matter, but Chet's tom foolery has a time and a purpose. It helps keep us loose. Which is an important ingredient at any station. If we allowed ourselves to think too much, we'd go insane, Chet keeps us relaxed, which in the long run, helps us all stay focused."

 

Slowly, the building's appearances improved until they reached an apartment building housing about twelve apartments, four on each floor. The stucco building had long vertical windows showcasing the interior staircase. Don parallel parked the van along the side of the road and killed the ignition, while Carol climbed out and waited for her partner to gather his needed paraphernalia.

 

Once he was ready, both Carol and Don walked along the path to the front door. Carol held the door open and helped Don by grabbing the dangling tripod which was moments away from falling to the ground. Stopping in front of a black board with white lettering, she located Chet's name and found he lived in apartment six. Noticing two apartments were below ground level, Don was relieved at the realization they'd only have to climb two flights of stairs.

 

Reaching apartment six, Carol softly knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened and Chet's smiling face welcomed his guests. "Hi."

 

"Hi, yourself." Carol smiled, walking through the doorway when Chet stepped back.

 

"You found the place okay?"

 

"Yep, no problem at all." Don acknowledged.

 

"Can I get ya anything to drink?"

 

"Anything you have is fine with us."

 

"Sure okay, a pot of coffee just finished brewing."

 

Chet led his visitors into his living room. While Carol made herself comfortable on the couch and Chet retreated to the kitchen, Don immediately turned the camera on and started to pan the room. The walls were beige and a brown carpet covered the floor. An oversized couch sat against a long wall and approximately twenty-four, six inch by six inch tiled mirrors, hung above it.

 

Along the opposite wall sat a stereo system Don firmly believed the fireman's neighbors had no appreciation for. Just like Marco, Chet had floor model speakers sitting on either side of his tuner and turntable. On top of one speaker sat a cactus, while on the other was a lava lamp. On the wall above the stereo hung an acoustic guitar.

 

Chet returned with a mug of coffee in each hand. He placed one in front of Carol and put the other one on a small table beside the couch. He motioned to Don it was for him and left the room again. Don lowered the camera and went to take a sip when he noticed his mug sat beside a picture frame. A small smile crept across his face. He knew the photo in the frame very well. Six men, dressed in blue, either sitting on or standing beside a fire engine, all smiled back at him. He put the camera back on his shoulder and filmed a shot of the photo.

 

Chet returned and took a seat in a battered recliner across from Carol. She looked at him and opened with a skeptical, "You remember how we take our coffee?"

 

"Sure."

 

"How?"

 

Chet shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, just some'n I'm good at. I know how all the guys take their coffee."

 

"So you'd consider yourself observant?"

 

"I guess."

 

"Would you consider it a valuable quality for a fireman to have?"

 

"Absolutely. When tackling a fire, you have to be aware of everything around you. Where the engine is. Is another crew on scene? If so, where are they and what are they doing? Is someone ventilating the fire, if so, where? Who's in charge? Are any firemen in the building? If so, where and why? Is the nozzle I’m using proper for the type and size of fire? It's important to never stop observing. If you do, you could be putting yours or someone else's life on the line."

 

"That's a lot to think about. How do you deal with all of that while at a fire?"

 

"I don't know, you just do. It's natural. As I said, your life or your brother's depends on it."

 

"Your brothers?"

 

"Other firemen. They're family."

 

Don, who had been filming the exchange, panned his camera back over to the picture of the fireman. It amazed him to think of the horrifying experiences these very men must have shared. Like the day of that traffic accident. No matter how hard he tried, Don didn't think he'd ever escape the image of Roy DeSoto holding that woman's life in his hands. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to forget that scene. It had brought home just how much a community needed, and relied on their emergency response personnel.

 

"You consider your crewmates family?"

 

"Not only my crewmates, but every man in the department. We're all like a family unit. If someone needs something, anything, he can count on us."

 

"Us, as in the department?"

 

"Us, as in fellow firemen." Chet answered in a tone emphasizing the word fireman over the word the woman seated across from him had chosen.

 

"So, if your bathroom needed renovating, you could count on other firemen helping you with it? Is that what you're talking about."

 

Chet nodded his head, "Yep, I may not even need to ask. I could casually mention I was planning on doing it and then next thing I know, a bunch of guys with tools show up at my apartment on my next day off and presto, my bathroom is done."

 

"You're kidding?"

 

"Nope."

 

Carol shook her head and decided to change gears. Nodding her head towards the guitar on the wall she asked, "Do you play?"

 

Chet looked at the guitar and smiled. "A little. Want me to' play some'n for ya?"

 

"Sure."

 

Chet got up and took the instrument down from its place of honor. Sitting back down in his chair, he placed the guitar on his knee and strummed a few chords. After tuning the twines a bit, he strummed again. After contemplating his options for a minute, he began to play "If", by Bread. Amazingly enough, Carol and Don both felt he was playing the tune fairly well.

 

When the song came to an end, Chet looked up with huge questioning eyes, Carol applauded his efforts. "Nicely done. Where'd you get the guitar?"

 

Chet smirked, "Johnny."

 

"As in, John Gage?"

 

"Yeah, him."

 

"Why would he give you a guitar?"

 

"The best I can figure is he came to the conclusion he'd never play it as well as me. I offered to pay him and everything, but he just gave it to me."

 

"Are you and Johnny close?"

 

"Well, that's complicated." Chet looked towards the picture sitting on his end table. He hated the idea of admitting on television that he liked Gage, but he also knew he couldn't lie and get away with it. Not when the guys at the station knew him so well.

 

"Try." Carol encouraged. During the few shifts she and Don had been working with the crew, the relationship between John Gage and Chet Kelly intrigued her.

 

"He's alright. For a paramedic that is."

 

"And if he were a lineman?"

 

"All right, I'm only going to say this once," Chet pointed a finger towards the camera now perched on the tripod, "Johnny's okay. He's good at what he does, actually, he and Roy are the best. As a fireman, he can hold his own too. There, that's it."

 

"Does it bother you to say those words about a brother?"

 

"No, but Johnny's…well… he's Johnny."

 

Carol laughed. She couldn't help but catch the hint of compassion underlying Chet's words. He'd never be able to deny he liked the man he so loved to torment at the station. Carol hoped through her words and Don's capable camera skills, the complex relationship between the two men would be conveyed to the viewing audience.

 

"Why'd you become a fireman?"

 

Chet took in a deep breath before responding, "It's in my blood. A couple of my uncles were firemen as well as my grandfather. I also have a few cousins in Pasadena who are firemen."

 

"Is that common, I mean for young men to follow in their father's, or in your case, their Uncle's foot steps?"

 

"Yeah, I guess. Monkey see, monkey do, ya know."

 

After spending a few hours chatting with Chet, the news team joined him for an early lunch of homemade Irish Stew. The threesome sat around Chet's table situated in his tiny kitchen. The camera sat on its tripod, capturing the light mood between the three.

 

"This is wonderful! Very tasty."

 

"Thanks." Chet smiled, loving the compliment from the camera man.

 

"Do all the fire station's have good cooks?"

 

"I suppose." Chet shrugged. "Actually, the department usually has a few cooking contests a year. It's fun, and one day I plan to win."

 

"What types of recipes are in these contests?

 

"Chili's, stews, pies, spaghetti sauces, oh and shepherds pie was added last year. Marco's bound to win the Chili contest one of these years. Have you had his chili yet? It's great."

 

"No, I don't believe we've had the pleasure yet." Carol smiled at Don.

 

"What category will you win?"

 

Chet's eyes grew large, not believing the woman had to ask! "My Irish Stew of course! You just said yourself how good it is."

 

Carol withheld the smile trying desperately to spread across her lips, "Of course, how silly of me to ask, although, I do believe it was Don and not me, who called it tasty."

 

"Oh, yeah right, sorry."

 

"No problem." The smile couldn't be contained another minute.

 

~~~***~~~

 

Two hours later, Don pulled the KTLA news van into the DeSoto driveway. Climbing out of the van, he stalked to the back of the vehicle and yanked the back doors open. After pulling out his camera and other assorted gear, he quickly closed the doors and stepped to the side of the vehicle, turning his camera on as he did so.

 

He panned the camera around the front yard and finally settled on the high ranch style house. Grey aluminum siding adorned the home, with dark green shutters attached to either side of the windows. A concrete walkway, lined with yellow and purple pansies, led from the driveway to the green door, centered in the middle of the house's front.

 

Carol and Don walked the path and Carol knocked on the door when they came to a stand still. The door was opened by Roy, a smile on his face and a dish rag in his hand. "Hi."

 

"Afternoon."

 

"Come in." Roy backed into the house. "I'm just finishing the dishes. I'll be done in two minutes." Roy continued on as he led his guests into the living room. After making sure they were comfortable and asking if they'd like any refreshments, he disappeared from the room for a few moments, while the news team took the opportunity to organize themselves.

 

Roy returned as promised, with a glass of lemonade each for Carol and Don. Joanne followed close behind with a lemonade for herself and Roy. She smiled at the strangers in her home and placed the drinks on the coffee table.

 

"Carol, Don, this is my wife, Joanne. Joanne, Carol and Don." Roy nodded his head in the directions of each as he spoke their names.

 

"Nice to meet you, Joanne. Thank you for allowing us into your home." Carol held out her hand.

 

Joanne took the offered hand into her own. "You're welcome. Please sit back down. I'll be right back."

 

Carol took her seat as Joanne exited. She turned to Roy and smiled as she once again sat on the sofa. "Nice home you have here." She complimented the fireman while taking in her surroundings.

 

The room was neat and tidy with a definite lived in feel about it. Magazines sat piled neatly on the floor beside a navy blue recliner across the coffee table from her. A Mary Poppin's coloring book and a box of crayons sat on the coffee table along side the current issue of TV Guide. In the far corner sat a child's red and white painted wooden toy box, with a GI Joe figure and a metal tank sitting on top. Beside the toy box, was a television, which sat on a cart with a caster at the bottom of each leg.

 

"Joanne just went to get some treats. She'll be right back."

 

"Great. I was hoping she'd allow us to talk with her."

 

"She's been kinda nervous about bein' on television."

 

"And you aren't?"

 

"No, not really. I've been interviewed a few times at scenes. I guess I'm an old pro." Roy chuckled.

 

Joanne returned, placing an oval shaped plate full of homemade chocolate chip cookies onto the coffee table. "Please help yourself." She nodded towards Don and Carol both.

 

After watching both Don and Roy take a cookie, Carol asked, "How long have you been a fireman?"

 

While chewing on his cookie, Carol couldn't help but notice Roy's eyes roll slightly upward; an indication he was doing the mathematics needed to answer her question. "Eleven years now, six as a paramedic."

 

"Captain Stanley told us you graduated in the first paramedic class."

 

Roy nodded his head in agreement.

 

"Also said you were instrumental in getting the program going."

 

"I helped recruit."

 

"And train, from what Hank mentioned."

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Roy answered, "I guess."

 

Realizing she wasn't going to get very far with this line of questioning, Carol turned to Joanne. "How long have you two been married?"

 

"Twelve years." Joanne smiled and quickly glanced towards Roy.

 

Don panned his camera towards the trim woman sitting in a chair opposite her husband. She was dressed in a dark brown knee length skirt, a beige mock turtle neck shirt with brown and gold horizontal stripes. Her shiny brown hair fell in soft curls onto her shoulders and her make-up had been applied with a subtle touch. It was obvious the woman took pride in her appearance.

 

"So you were married before Roy became a fireman?"

 

"Yes. He joined the year after we were married, just after our son was born."

 

"Was it a hard decision?" Carol looked towards Roy.

 

"No. Fire fighting is a calling. The hard part was getting started. Being married with a child made it difficult. We lived with Joanne's parents during my academy days. We just didn't have the funds to live on our own. That was tough."

 

"How do your parents feel about Roy being a fireman?"

 

Joanne shifted in her seat. She knew this was a touchy subject in their household. "They don't like it. They say it's too dangerous."

 

"But they let you live with them so Roy could attend the academy."

 

"Yes. They didn't like it, still don't, but they've always been supportive of the decisions I've made with my life. So if my husband is a fireman, then he's a fireman, nothing they can do about it."

 

"How does that make you feel?" Carol turned to Roy.

 

"In the beginning it was difficult. I resented their thoughts on the whole issue, but now, I guess I can understand. Fire fighting can be dangerous and they don't want to see Joanne hurt in anyway. I respect that, cause neither do I. But I honestly don't see myself doing anything else career wise."

 

"Chet mentioned firemen regard one another as family. Is this just Chet's take, or is this feeling wide spread?"

 

Seeing Joanne smile, Don focused the camera on her. Carol noticing her reaction as well, chose to look to Joanne for an answer.

 

"Absolutely. I can't tell you the number of times when Roy's been on duty and I've needed something fixed, how some off duty firemen will show up to help. It's wonderful to have such a supportive community behind Roy's work. When our daughter had her tonsils out, one of Roy's co-workers took our son for the day. We didn't even have to ask. Mike knew Chris would be bored out of his mind, spending the day at the hospital, so he just showed up and took Chris home with him."

 

"Sounds to me like something family would do. Your son didn't mind spending the day with this Mike fellow?"

 

"Are you kidding! He was relieved." Roy joined in.

 

"Is this Mike Stoker your talking about?"

 

"Yes."

 

Carol shook her head. She had a feeling it would take more than just a week of following these men to really understand the depth of their working and personal relationships. She glanced over at Don to see which of the couple sitting before them he was shooting. Much to her surprise, he wasn't pointing the camera at either of them. She followed the direction of the lens and found it pointed at a small shelf attached to the wall above the television.

 

The shelf was full of pictures, mostly of two small children with blond hair and blue eyes. There were also some shots of people she didn't recognize, but a couple of pictures did grab her attention. One showed John Gage sitting on a couch with a DeSoto child on either side of him. He was reading a book to them. The other photo was one Don had brought to her attention before. It was a picture of six men dressed in blue, either sitting on or standing beside a fire engine, smiling at the photographer.

 

"You have two children?" Carol asked no one in particular.

 

"Yes." Joanne stated proudly.

 

"A girl and a boy? Are those pictures of them there?" Carol pointed at the shelf.

 

"Yes. Christopher is eleven and Jennifer will be nine next month." Roy answered.

 

"How do they feel about your being a fireman?"

 

Roy shrugged his shoulders. "Up until now, it's never really been talked about. They've just understood that when I go to work, I'm gone all day and night and then I'm home a few days. They enjoy coming to the station and sitting in the rig and going to the firemen picnics, seeing their uncles, but other than that, they've never really asked about it or talked about it."

 

"You said, until now."

 

"Chris is starting to understand the seriousness of the job. He's starting to ask tough questions about why I do what I do. What happens if I get hurt. Those sorts of things."

 

"You haven't been hurt before?"

 

"Not seriously. I've suffered smoke inhalation a few times. I've had bumps and bruises and once ended up in the hospital with Marco, but no, I haven't really been hurt."

 

"So what do you say to your son?"

 

"I just explain to him that I love my job, the men I work with are the best, and we're continually training to better ourselves. There's not much more I can say to him really. I think he's beginning to understand the whole concept of Johnny and I looking out for one another whenever we go into a building."

 

"Does he treat Johnny differently than the other members of your crew?"

 

"Yes," Joanne quipped, "he's constantly hounding me to invite Johnny over. I think it's his way of thanking Johnny for looking out for his father. It's sweet and makes me proud to know our son doesn't just look at it like it's just a part of Johnny's, or any of the guys, job." Joanne expanded.

 

"Would you like to see your children follow in your footsteps?"

 

"If they felt they had to, then yes. Absolutely. But I'd want to make sure they were doing it because they felt the calling as well, and weren't just trying to make me happy. Fire fighting is a difficult profession and it's hard on the families. I wouldn't like to think my children were just trying to please me."

 

"Back to your comment, Joanne, about Mike just showing up and taking your son home with him. Your trust is that deep, that you would just let him take your son home?"

 

"Yes, they're all friends. That time it just happened to be Mike. Johnny and Chet have also taken our children out and done things with them. Chet took our children and the Stoker boys to the zoo a few weeks ago. Johnny takes them hiking and bowling. Marco even took them to a movie a few years ago, so Roy and I could have a nice quiet dinner for our anniversary. Our children see Roy's crew mates as uncles. If I can trust those men to keep my husband safe, I can certainly trust them to show my children a good time."

 

Roy glanced over at his wife and smiled. It never stopped pleasing him to know Joanne had so much trust and faith in the guys.

 

"Joanne, and many wives just like her, are remarkable as well. They get together and do all kinds of humanitarian work. They're like an appendage of the fire department. You can bet if a family in this neighborhood, or any for that matter, losses all their belongings in a fire, our wives will band together and start a drive of some sort. Raise money, collect clothing and toys, you name it; they do it. Our wives work behind the scenes a lot."

 

"If anyone of my co-workers happens to get injured, you can count on, Joanne, Beth or Cheryl making sure he's well fed or just gets a good old fashioned heaping of mothering. Of course, I'm talking mostly about the single guys. Chet and Johnny mostly, since Marco has his own mother, to mother him."

 

"Have they been injured often?"

 

"Yes and no. Chet hasn't much. But Johnny's another story. He has a tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He's even been injured by freak accidents while on duty. He was hit by a car once, that was pretty bad. He got bit by a rattlesnake once, after the rescue was over. That was hard to deal with, since I'd already left the scene with our victims."

 

"Holy! What did the rest of the guys do?"

 

"They transported Johnny to the hospital on the top of the engine. Hank ended up having to relay messages to the hospital because Johnny became unconscious, Chet tried his best to suck the venom out of the wound, Marco drove the squad in and from what I understand, Mike's never driven Big Red that fast before or since."

 

"Big Red?"

 

"The engine. Mike's nicknamed her Big Red. It's kinda become our shift's name for her." Roy blushed.

 

"Don't forget that Monkey virus." Joanne piped up.

 

"Don't worry, I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that." Seeing the look of confusion on Carol's face Roy elaborated. "Johnny fell victim to some sort of rare virus, spread through monkeys, after we'd come in contact with one during a call. Both he and one of the doctors at the hospital, ended up with the virus and both were seriously ill. It looked pretty grave for a while."

 

"Wow, so besides the obvious risks involved in your job, you also have to contend with some unknown variables."

 

"Always."

 

"How do you deal with all of this, Joanne?"

 

Joanne took in a deep breath and let it slowly out. "Mostly, I don't think about it. Roy goes to work in the morning and I go about my chores. I get the children off to school, do the grocery shopping, run any other errands, volunteer at the kids school and clean the house. I spend time with friends or just sit down and read if I get a chance. I'm no different than a milkman's wife or a banker's wife."

 

"It's when a big fire is burning and it's being covered by the media and on television that I start thinking about what could be going on. That's difficult. You don't want to watch, but you have to. So when those times occur, a few of us will gather at someone's home and watch together. It's easier that way. Mainly because we're all experiencing the same kinds of emotions and thoughts."

 

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Roy excused himself explaining he was going to go pick Chris and Jennifer up from the bus stop. Once he was out of the room, Carol looked a Joanne and asked, "You honestly don't feel any differently than a banker's wife?"

 

"No. I agree, my husband's job can be quite dangerous, but he's well trained and Hank is always putting them through drills to keep them sharp. My husband works with some very professional men who look out for one another. I won't lie to you and tell you there aren't days when I wished Roy was a school teacher or something, but he would never be happy doing something else. It's in his blood. He turned down a promotion to engineer, so he could remain with the paramedic program. I know this may sound ridiculous, but I think Roy, Johnny, and the rest of the paramedics in this county are pioneers. I'm extremely proud of them all. They're special."

 

Carol smiled at the woman in front of her, thinking what a nice feeling it must be to feel so strongly about a spouse's  profession. She felt a sudden warmth for Joanne and other fire fighters wives. She wondered if these women realized how special they were. Maybe she'd do a feature on them one day.

 

The next thing she knew, the quiet sound of muffled voices could be heard entering the house from the back door. The fridge door could be heard opening and closing as well as a kitchen cupboard.

 

"That'll be Roy and the kids. Sometimes the kids give him grief over walking to the bus stop to meet them when they get home from school, seeing how they're older now, but Roy won't stop. If he's home, he meets them and gets their after school snack for them. I know the kids don't really understand it, but it's one of Roy's ways of being involved. He wants them to know how much interest he has in them and what they're doing, just in case."

 

Carol didn't need to be told what the just in case meant. The words hung in the air and she decided to leave them there and not elaborate. "May we meet your children?"

 

"Yes, of course. They'll be thrilled to be on television." Joanne smiled, while leading her guests into the kitchen.

 

The trio entered the kitchen to find Roy sitting at the table with his two children. He was drinking a coffee while his children each had a glass of milk. Chris was devouring an apple, while Jennifer was eating some carrot sticks. Both children ignored the woman standing beside their mother, choosing instead to stare at the man with the television camera.

 

"Cool! Are we on TV?" Chris asked.

 

"Not at the moment, but maybe later this month." Carol smiled.

 

"Chris, Jen, this is Carol and Don. They've been following us at the station and today they decided to come to our house." Roy explained.

 

"Neat!" Jennifer smiled.

 

"Far out! Wait'll Jimmy hears about this!" Chris exclaimed.

 

Soon the gathering in the DeSoto kitchen was discussing the days events as experienced through the DeSoto children. Joanne started making spaghetti sauce and the children started in on their homework.

 

After being given a tour of the DeSoto home and yard by Roy, the KTLA crew once again packed up their supplies and climbed into their van. It would be well after eight o'clock that evening before they would leave the studio and go home for some well needed rest. The following day, they'd be interviewing the last two members of the crew and with each interview, they were gaining more and more respect.

 

~~~***~~~

 

The next morning Mike Stoker was just finishing his second cup of coffee when the sound of light knocking filled his ears. Looking at his watch, he appreciated his expected company's punctuality. Having spent most of his adult life understanding the value of wasted minutes, even seconds, he'd come to loath other's inability to arrive anywhere on time. He opened his front door and welcomed the news duo into his home.

 

"Morning." Carol sang.

 

"Hi."

 

Stepping back so the party of two could enter his home, he smiled shyly at the camera. Although still not comfortable with it, he was finding it less intrusive around the station. His wife, Beth, wasn't sure she wanted the news team at their home, but after talking with Joanne, she realized the crew currently following her husband and his co-workers around the station was hoping to enlighten the County about firefighters, not make them out to be just some civil servants.

 

"You didn't have any problems finding the place?"

 

"No, not at all." Don smiled. "Next time I need directions somewhere, I'm going to stop by my nearest fire station. You guys are awesome when it comes to knowing your way around."

 

"All in a day's work." Mike smiled back. He led his guests into his living-room. After watching them take a seat, Mike asked Carol and Don if they'd like a cup of coffee. When they both responded in the affirmative, he quickly left the room and soon returned with three cups.

 

"Beth, my wife, just took our oldest son to school. She should be back any minute."

 

"Great, I'm looking forward to meeting her. How many children do you have, Mike?"

 

"Two, with another on the way."

 

"Oh that's nice, congratulations."

 

Mike blushed slightly while accepting her words with a simple thank-you.

 

"You said your oldest son. I take you have two boys?"

 

"Yeah. Tim's six and Sam's four. Sam had a bad dream last night, he's sleeping in."

 

"I imagine that's rare." Carol smiled, seeing Don chuckling to himself.

 

"Yeah. Usually he'd be up and planning his day by now. He's full of energy, don't know where he gets it from?"

 

The three turned towards the front hallway at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Mike stood and excused himself. "That'll be Beth."

 

Don took the opportunity to pan his camera around the room. A plush carpet was only the beginning of the room's warmth. A fireplace with a huge mantle ran along the long wall opposite him. On top of the mantle sat a huge candle sitting in a wrought iron holder. On either side of the candle, was a picture of each of the children, and on the far ends of the mantle sat a figurine. Although each was different, they held the same theme. Firemen. The figure on the left was a fireman opening up a fire hydrant, while the other was a fireman standing beside a fire engine.

 

A floor model television sat off to the side of the fireplace. Sitting on the top of it, was an eight by ten photo of Mike and Beth Stoker on their wedding day, as well as a vase with an arrangement of fresh flowers.

 

Panning to his left, a window adorned with open vertical blinds and a valance along the top, showed a clear view of the fireman's backyard. A patio with a barbecue, picnic table, and a lounge chair was the only thing visible from his vantage point. But Don noticed an eight foot wooden fence running along the yard as well. Since the fence was still naked maple, he assumed this was the project he'd overheard Mike and Johnny talking about during their first day at the station.

 

The room contained a couch, love seat and one wing back style chair. End tables with matching lamps sat on opposite ends of the couch, as well as the love seat. The chair had only one table sitting to its left and a floor lamp with four separate lamps protruding from it sat behind it. In the middle of the seating arrangement sat a coffee table which matched the end tables, with a few magazines lying on top of it. Also sitting on the coffee table lay a large book entitled, Engines. Don couldn't help but think it would be an impressive book to leaf through, judging from the beautiful glossy photo of a cherry red fire engine on it's cover.

 

Swinging his camera around again, he was slowly becoming frustrated. He knew Mike would also have one, but where was it? Maybe it wasn't given a home in the living-room he was thinking to himself when Mike and Beth walked into the room. He let the camera follow the fireman's wife, knowing Carol was becoming very interested in the women who were married to these men.

 

Beth Stoker was a striking woman with classic features. Long, bouncy blonde hair fell well below her shoulders. Her face was heart shaped with huge almond shaped blue eyes and a delicate nose. Her cheek bones were high and her lips full. Both Carol and Don felt right away that this woman was very much like Cheryl Stanley and Joanne DeSoto. Someone who quietly took great pride in her husband's career, but was also a driving and moving force behind the scenes.

 

Beth slowly lowered herself onto the love seat beside her husband. Her hand came to rest on her protruding stomach. Introductions were quickly made and Mike retreated to the kitchen to make his wife a cup of tea.

 

"Thank-you for allowing us into your home, Beth. It's lovely."

 

"Thank-you, it was the first house Mike and I looked at. We both fell in love with it immediately. We never did look at any others."

 

"It looks like a nice neighborhood to raise a family."

 

A smile creeping across her face, Beth nodded in agreement. "Yes. The boys love it here."

 

"How far along are you?" Carol nodded to Beth's stomach.

 

"Eight and a half months, it could happen at any moment." Beth raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure the County is ready for such riveting television." She smiled.

 

Carol laughed. She relaxed somewhat, realizing how nervous this woman made her feel. She carried herself with such self assurance, it wasn't something Carol was expecting. She had expected a nervous woman for some reason. She imagined she'd come to expect it because of the man she imagined Mike Stoker to be. She was chastising herself for coming into this interview with preconceived notions, when Mike returned.

 

Mike placed the tea on a coaster on the coffee table and sat down beside his wife, gently placing his arm along the top of the love seat's back. Picking up his coffee he took a sip and noticed Don letting his camera take in the room. The man actually looked like he was looking for something. Mike furrowed his brows and continued to watch Don's exploration, while keeping his ear trained to the conversation taking place.

 

"How long have you been married?" Carol asked.

 

"Nine years."

 

"So Mike was already a firemen when you started dating?"

 

"Yes." Beth glanced towards her husband and smiled.

 

"It didn't bother you?"

 

"Oh gosh no," Beth laughed, "I thought it extremely romantic."

 

"Romantic?" Carol laughed, "How so?"

 

"Mike is such a quiet, reserved man, getting to know him proved to be a challenge. But I have to say, knowing he was a fireman, gave me some insight into his character. I have a cousin who's married to a fireman. Knowing what I knew about Steve, led me to believe Mike would be worth getting to know."

 

"I was right. Mike has a high moral fiber about him. He strongly believes in right and wrong, but isn't quick to judge. He's driven by his natural instinct to help his fellow citizens. There's something about those qualities that I find admirable and quite frankly, attractive."

 

"The notion of his profession being romantic didn't take long to disappear." Beth laughed. "One night, while we were dating, Mike was at work. I remember being at home watching television, when a news update came on. There was this huge fire at some warehouse in the industrial part of town. It was huge, there were so many fire trucks parked around that building, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. I wasn't paying attention to the man reporting, just what was going on behind him."

 

"To me, it just looked like a bunch of men running around. Then, it happened. Something inside the building blew causing a huge explosion, and what I saw, I'll never forget. A window behind the reporter shattered and a fireman came flying out of that window, landing on the street. I think my heart stopped. It scared me. At the time, Mike was still a lineman, I couldn't help thinking that the poor man lying on the ground could be him. This was also in the days before the paramedics." Shaking her head, Beth Stoker traveled back to that long ago night, remembering the sound of her heart beating wildly.

 

Carol sat dumbfounded for a few moments. "And yet, you managed to look past that and still wanted to be with a fireman?"

 

"Yes. I can't help what Mike does for a living. He takes pride in it and it pays the bills." Beth patted her stomach lightly.

 

Don, although paying attention to the words being spoken between the two women was starting to panic. He wanted, no, he needed to find the picture. He knew it had to be around somewhere, and wanted to help underscore the men's friendships by letting the viewing audience see it in each of the men's homes.

 

All four jumped at the sound of the Stoker's four-year-old son falling out of bed. Mike sprang from the comfort of the love seat and flew down the hallway. Reaching the stairs, he took them two at a time. When he arrived at his son's room, he entered and picked the crying boy, lying on the floor in spider-man pajamas, up and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

"Are you hurt, Sam?"

 

Feeling his son's head nod up and down against his chest, Mike looked down. "Where?"

 

"Here." Sam showed his father his elbow.

 

"Hmm…should we call Uncle Johnny and Uncle Roy?"

 

"No." Sam giggled at his father's questions.

 

"(‘)Kay." Once more making sure his son wasn't in need of medical attention, Mike finally ruffled his son's hair. "You hungry?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Okay, let's go." Mike put Sam on his shoulders and stood up. It was then he noticed Don had followed him to the room and was standing in the door frame, capturing the moment on camera.

 

"Sam, this is Don."

 

"Hi." Came the tiny reply from the small boy.

 

"Howdy, I see ya like Spiderman."

 

The little boy's face lit up at the mention of his favorite action hero. "Yeah, some day, I'm gonna be just like 'em. I'll capture bad guys, and tie 'em up, and wait for the police to come."

 

Raising his eyebrows in mock shock, Don chuckled. With young children of his own, he knew how important it was to acknowledge their hopes and dreams, as well as their imaginations. "Will you be a reporter just like Peter Parker?"

 

"Yeah, cause then the next day, I could write all about Spiderman catching the bad guys!" Sam ducked his head as his father exited the bedroom.

 

When the trio walked into the kitchen, Mike lowered Sam to the floor. He ran to the table and climbed onto a chair. "Cheerios or Corn Flakes?" Mike asked.

 

"Cheerios."

 

After getting his response, Mike set to work pouring his youngest son's cereal into a bowl and then poured milk over top. Pulling open a drawer beside the fridge, he took out a small spoon and walked over to where Sam sat fidgeting. Placing the bowl and spoon in front of him, Mike then turned back to the cupboards and took out a small blue plastic cup. Stepping over to the refrigerator he soon had the cup full of orange juice and sitting in front of his son as well.

 

While allowing his camera to follow the smooth deliberate actions of the fireman within the kitchen, Don's thoughts crept back to a room they'd passed while coming to the kitchen. It looked to be some sort of a study, it was full of bookshelves and a small desk. Returning to the moment, he asked Mike, "Was that a den we passed?"

 

"Yeah." Mike shrugged his reply.

 

"Mind if I go shoot it?"

 

"No, go ahead."

 

Making his way to the room, Don was pretty sure he'd find what he'd been looking for back in the living-room. Stepping through the doorway, he stopped and let his camera be his eyes. Looking through the camera's  lens, he saw what the room would look like to KTLA's viewers.

 

A medium sized wooden desk was the prominent piece of furniture in the room. A captain's style chair sat up against the wall, letting the person behind the desk look out into the room, instead of at the beige colored wall. A small reading lamp and a typewriter sat on the desk's surface.

 

Panning his camera a bit to his right, he noticed a small two drawer filing cabinet sitting beside the desk. Pushed up against the wall to his right, were two five tiered book cases. He walked over so he was standing in front of the structures. In one case sat novels and poetry books. In the other, were manuals, binders and text books. Taking a step closer, Don captured some titles sitting on the upper three tiers, Engineer's Of Today, Modern Fire Fighting, The L.A. County Fireman's First Aid Handbook. The books sitting on the lower shelves were a little more ordinary, the types of books he might find in any number of people's bookshelves, Roget's Thesaurus, Modern Spelling, Webster's Dictionary, as well as a full set of Encyclopedia's.

 

Raising the camera up to take a look at the top of the book shelves, he noticed some framed pictures. They were class pictures, but not of the older Stoker child's class, but those of Beth Stoker. Don smiled when he realized the engineer's wife must be, or was at one time, a school teacher, for in each picture, Mike's wife was the only adult.

 

Turning around, he was about to walk out of the room, when he noticed the picture out of the corner of his eye. There, sitting beside a pencil holder on the desk, sat a wooden framed picture of six men dressed in blue, either standing beside or sitting on the engine, smiling up at Don. Don couldn't help but smile back. He knew this picture had to be somewhere in the house and once he'd passed this room, he'd had a hunch he'd find it here. Having found what he was looking for, he filmed the picture and then left the room and made his way back to the living-room where he found his colleague and the Stokers once more chatting together.

 

A few hours later, Carol and Don departed the Stoker household and made their way to a local pub for some lunch. "What'd ya think?" Don asked Carol before taking a bite into his club sandwich.

 

"I enjoyed them. Nice couple. What about you?"

 

"I agree. Seem well suited.

 

"Sam was cute too." Carol smiled.

 

"What was cute was watching him and Mike in the bedroom. It'll be a great shot for the documentary. A nice contrast to the work the man does. A nice tender moment."

 

"Now I remember why I like working with you so much, you have a camera man's eye with a reporter's mind." Carol smiled.

 

"Ha, ha. You wanna' work for a bit this afternoon or call it quits until tonight?"

 

"Lets get some rest." Carol replied.

 

~~~***~~~

 

"He lives on the seventh floor, right?"

 

"Yeah." Carol nodded. "Wanna take the elevator," she asked, sympathizing with her partner's weariness. Carrying a camera and tripod around all day must get tiring, she thought to herself as she pushed the up button on the wall.

 

Stepping into the elevator after the doors opened, the couple road the seven floors in silence, Don wondering where John Gage's picture would be, and Carol feeling a bit anxious about this particular interview. After all, it was Johnny who had first reacted to her careless comment about firemen on the first day of hers and Don's working arrangement with Station 51's A-shift. When the doors re-opened, Don got out first, but stopped to look up and down the hallway. Seeing the numbers raising to the left and lowering to the right, he turned right and continued on, Carol close behind.

 

Stopping at door number 715, Don gave a crisp knock and waited patiently.

 

The door opened and Johnny's smile greeted them. "Hey."

 

"Hey yourself." Don answered.

 

"Come in, come in." Johnny waved at the couple standing just outside his apartment door. "Have you guys eaten?"

 

"Yes." Came a unified reply.

 

"Oh, well, I thought we could go out for pizza, but I can just order it in if you'd like?"

 

"It's your call, Johnny. It doesn't matter to us."

 

"Well, why don't I order in, since we'll be going bowling a little later."

 

"Bowling?!" Carol cried, while glancing towards Don.

 

"Yeah, I'm getting together with a few friends to go bowling later, I figured you'd want me to just do the things I'd normally do, right?"

 

"Yes, of course."

 

"'Kay, then bowling it is. Have a seat and I'll go order my pizza. Should I order ya' anything?"

 

"No, we're fine."

 

A few minutes later, after making his phone call, Johnny joined the film crew who presided over his cramped living-room. Don was busy taking the room in with his camera. It consisted of a joined living-room/dinning-room. The couch, placed with its arm rest nearly against the rooms longest wall, acted as a partition for the rooms.

 

On the dining room side of the room sat a small oval table with four chairs placed around it. To the side, was a three foot high glass door hutch with drinking glasses placed inside. Sitting on the hutch was a Coleman's kerosene camping lamp. Above it hung a few pictures. One, of a young uniformed John Gage standing with an older gray haired lady. Above this picture was a picture of Johnny with the DeSoto children, and yet another picture with Johnny and Mike Stoker's two boys playing in someone's backyard. Still, above those pictures, was a clock, showing the time to be five-thirty.

 

On the living-room side of the room, a matching couch and chair sat staring at one another with a battered hinged rectangular box sitting between them acting as a coffee table. On top of it sat a couple of Popular Mechanics magazines, a T.V Guide, a couple of Hiking Guides, and a novel.

 

Casting a quick eye about the room, Don decided to set his camera on the tripod. The room was small, so he figured having the camera stationary for most of this interview would work out better in the long run.

 

While still setting the camera up beside Gage's television, which sat on a couple of wooden boxes, he continued to sweep the room with his eyes. Not finding what he was looking for, he decided he'd flat out ask Johnny where the picture was if he had to.

 

Just like the two previous single men, Johnny had a stereo sitting on a small table, placed along one wall. Underneath the table was a couple of milk grates holding his record albums and in front of those, was a small plastic container filled with 8-tracks. Beside the table sat the matching speakers with an assortment of items sitting on top. Keys, loose change, an army knife of some sort and an item Don assumed was the man's Fireman's badge.

 

Realizing his two subjects were sitting down making small talk, Don focused the camera and took a seat beside his reporter on the couch. "How long have you been a fireman?" she asked.

 

"Nine years, six as a paramedic."

 

"Were you a lineman before this?"

 

"I spent a year on the front lines and then switched to search and rescue."

 

"Did you enjoy it?"

 

"Certainly. I feel I serve the department best if I'm active."

 

"Why the paramedics?"

 

Johnny sat silently for a few minutes before giving her his answer, "We, search and rescue units, were turning into nothing more than recovery units. More than half of the victims we were rescuing were dying en route to the hospital. It took a lot of the pride out of a job well done."

 

"So when Roy came along and provided me with an opportunity to help those victims make it to the hospital alive, giving them a fair chance at survival, I snatched it. It was a hard decision at the time though. Paramedics still didn't have the backing of a piece of legislature allowing us to work on a victim after a rescue, but Roy was able to convince me that once that legislation was passed, we'd need qualified people immediately."

 

"Captain Stanley mentioned Roy being instrumental in the development of the paramedic program. Does that give you added pleasure working beside him on a daily basis?"

 

Carol noticed Johnny's eyes twinkle as his lips parted into a smile, "I suppose it does, but working with Roy would be a positive experience regardless. He's top notch."

 

"Don and I couldn't help but notice your working arrangements while at a scene. We're more than a bit curious about how you go about deciding what you should do?"

 

Johnny furrowed his brows, "I don't think I quite understand your question."

 

Carol nodded her head as if expecting this response, "The first day we rode along with you, your station responded to a traffic accident. A car and a truck."

 

"Yeah I remember it well, the driver of one of the vehicles didn't make it, his wife was seriously hurt, and a mother and son sustained minor injuries."

 

Carol was taken aback, having forgotten about the one fatality of the accident. "Huh, well, when you and Roy arrived, without speaking a word to one another, you moved in opposite directions. Do you have some sort of a game plan already laid out? I was in the squad with you and know first hand that you didn't discuss it while en route."

 

"Oh, that, yeah we have little formulas already worked out. With something as simple as a two car accident, we split up. Usually, Roy'll take the north or south facing vehicle and I'll take the east or west facing vehicle."

 

"That's it!"

 

"Yep."

 

"Well, it's a remarkable thing to watch."

 

"It just makes our job easier and makes us more efficient if we don’t have to stand around discussing simple things like that. Lord knows, there are some rescues where we have to analyze and end up having to discuss issues, not only with each other, but Captain Stanley as well. Bottom line is we take orders from him."

 

"But don't you also take orders from the doctors at Rampart?"

 

"Yes, but Captain Stanley is in charge of any rescue. Once the rescue is over, then we take orders from Rampart. Of course, both Captain Stanley and the Rampart doctors understand they have to work as a team. If the doctors  think we need to work on a patient before they're rescued, then Cap won't argue the point. Not unless it's just too risky, which, well, I don't think that's ever happened. Our job is to take the risks, not put our victims at risk."

 

"I notice you refer to the victims as a patient when referring to the doctors only."

 

"Paramedics aren't doctors. WE don't treat patients, doctors do. Roy and I are search and rescue men, we have no delusions about that."

 

After speaking those words, there was a knock on Johnny's door. Excusing himself, he went to answer it. Returning with a square white box, he asked, "You sure you don't want any?"

 

"No, I’m fine. Don?"

 

"Nope." Don shook his head.

 

"What about drinks, want anything."

 

"Sure, whatever you have is fine."

 

Johnny came back into the room from his kitchen with a glass of ginger ale for each of his guests. He disappeared into the kitchen once more and returned a few minutes later with a glass of milk in one hand and a couple slices of pizza on a plate in the other.

 

"Mind if I eat over here?"

 

Carol chuckled, "No, it's your apartment."

 

With that, Johnny sat at his table and started to eat. Don took the opportunity to stand up and stretch, once again looking for the picture he was sure would be somewhere visible. Carol decided to let Johnny eat in peace, knowing the opportunity to do so at work didn't arise too often.

 

After eating his slices of pizza, downing a couple glasses of drinks and placing his dirty dishes into the sink, Johnny excused himself to change and wash. Don took the opportunity to scoop the camera back onto his shoulder and look around the small room, still trying to locate the picture. Not finding it in the living room/dinning room, he ventured into the kitchen on the off chance of finding it in there, but his curiosity was met with no avail. Hearing the fireman's return, Don walked back into the dinning room.

 

Knowing this would be his last chance, he finally gave up and questioned Johnny about the picture directly. "John, all your station mates display a picture of all of you guys at work. I thought maybe you'd also have this picture, but I can't seem to locate it?"

 

Johnny scratched his head and a small smirk formed on his lips. "I think I know exactly which picture your talking about, Don. Follow me." With that, Johnny started down the small narrow hallway leading the apartments two small bedrooms. Stopping about midway down the hall, he turned and pointed at the wall. Don did the same and was rewarded by a wall full of pictures, one caught his eye right away, six men, dressed in blue, all sitting on or standing beside a fire engine, all with smiles on their faces. Once again, Don couldn't help but return their smiles.

 

After allowing his camera to focus on the picture for roughly thirty seconds, he panned the camera along the wall, taking in the other pictures on the wall. They were mostly comprised of friends and family, but one picture stuck out, it was a black and white five by seven picture framed in black, of a younger looking John Gage, shaking the hand of the doctor at the hospital. Standing beside the doctor was a pretty blonde haired nurse with a huge smile on her face, behind the fireman, stood a younger looking Roy DeSoto, also with a smile on his face, looking proud as a peacock.

 

"That was taken the day of my final paramedic class. Little did I know, Roy would end up being my partner." Johnny shook his head in obvious wonderment.

 

Taking a few more seconds to film the picture, Don finally followed his partner and John back down the hallway. Gathering up their equipment, the film crew exited the tiny apartment with their host and headed down the building's hallway to the elevator.

 

Arriving at the bowling alley, the crew found a place to park and jumped out of the van. They found John Gage waiting for them at the front entrance and quickly joined when he climbed the stairs and entered the building.

 

~~~***~~~

 

At seven-thirty the following morning, Don pulled the KTLA van into the back of the station and parked beside a white Thunderbird. Grabbing all needed paraphernalia, he and Carol headed into the station via the open bay door.

 

The two were greeted with warm smiles and a cup of coffee each, by the stations C-shift Captain. While Don chatted with the men, Carol went over her notes for the day.

 

Slowly, just like her first day at the station, the A-shift started to arrive one at a time. By eight o'clock sharp, they were all standing in front of the squad, receiving their chores for the day. When the men dispersed, Don stayed routed to his spot, filming Mike Stoker shining the engine. His mind swirling around the words of Captain Stanley.

 

"One word that immediately pops into mind when speaking of Mike is discipline. I don't know how he does it, but he always manages to stay put when he has to, despite what's going on around him. It can't be easy to stay with the engine when he knows a fellow station mate is down, or the guys are trapped."

 

"He can't leave the engine?"

 

"Sometimes, but if we're at a fire, then for the most part, he has to stay with the engine. He's responsible not only for the water pressure going through those lines, but the engine in general. When we're at, say a rescue which requires us to go into a building, he'll usually stay outside to watch over the equipment. Mainly the removable items in the squad."

 

"Must be difficult."

 

"Like I said, I'm sure it is at times, no let me correct myself, it is difficult. I've been there myself, as an engineer. But when it's not essential that he stay with the engine, you'll usually find him helping Roy and John with their victim. He'll be giving the patient oxygen or helping extricate them from a vehicle. He's fined tuned to what's expected and needed from him. You can count on him to be there, and let me tell you, my men do. They know what Mike contributes to our team and although it's never voiced, it's a much appreciated aspect of Mike's position. Mike's a pro. He'll go far if he chooses to."

 

"He seems so quiet. Is that just his nature, or does it go along with his job title?

 

"It's just him, he's a very unassuming young man. I've worked with some pretty loud engineers in my day. Mike's quiet demeanor is fine by me, we have enough, huh, boisterous people at the station as it is." Hank smiled.

 

"So Mike enjoys solace?"

 

"Absolutely. He's my mental rock. He's efficient, adaptable and always professional. Qualities people of any occupation should strive for. But he's been known to get excited once in a while, or voice his opinions, but even then, it's usually in a quiet low key manner. As I stated with Chet, I'd pit Michael against any other engineer in the department, confident that he'd come out on top."

 

Just as Don was shifting the camera from one shoulder to the next, the tones sounded, bringing with it an avalanche of activity within the building. Mike grabbed his turnout jacket from the side mirror of the engine and smoothly put it on. Then he jumped into the engine and turned the ignition, patiently waiting for his captain's arrival.

 

Chet made his way to the front of the room and pressed a small red button, causing the bay door to lift open, the two linemen also put their turnout jackets on and Marco climbed up into his seat while Chet climbed onto the trucks back bumper. Don made his way to the engine and climbed aboard, taking the seat beside Marco.

 

Panning his camera about the apparatus bay, he noticed the paramedic team and Carol already sitting in the squad with its lights already twirling.

 

Captain Stanley placed the microphone in his hand into its holder and quickly passed a sheet of paper to Roy, who in turn, passed it on to his partner. After walking along the front of both vehicles, Stanley donned his gear and climbed into the rig to ride shotgun. As the squad pulled out of the building, lights flashing and siren now blaring, Captain Stanley put his helmet on with one simple instruction, "Let's go, Michael."

 

The engine rolled out of the bay, Mike turned on the lights and as he rolled out into the street he pulled on the air horn. Once again, Don felt the excitement of riding on the engine take over his body. It truly was an exhilarating experience to behold. That first day of his and Carol's ride along, his wife thought it cute, how excited he'd become when describing his day out in the field with a bunch of firemen.

 

Arriving at the scene of a three car pile up, Mike steered the engine to within a safe distance of an overturned oil tanker and quickly climbed out. Captain Stanley jumped down and took a quick look around, noticing Vince Howard, a County Sheriff's Officer, sprinting towards him. Don climbed down from the rig and started to film the wreckage.

 

The smell of gasoline was heavy in the air and at first made him gag. Within moments of exiting the engine, both Chet and Marco had taken up residence in front of the tanker, poised with a fire hose in their hands. At the sound of the engine firing up, Don noticed the two linemen start showering the dangerous vehicle with water.

 

He noticed Johnny, who was donned in full turnout gear by now, had moved to the tanker as well, looking through its windshield. His partner, Roy, was checking out the minor injuries of a couple in a small Honda Civic hatchback. Once he had his victims out and was satisfied they had sustained only minor injuries, he joined his captain at the third vehicle, a four door sedan lying on its roof. Hearing the sounds of more sirens approaching, Don let the camera follow Captain Stanley's movements.

 

The siren belonged to another County Fire Engine. It's crew disembarked and Hank stood talking with another fireman who also had a white stripe running along the length, front to back, of his helmet.

 

After finishing his discussion, Hank was suddenly moving back to his own crew, being followed close behind by a couple of crew members from the newly arrived engine company. These men were instructed to help Roy extricate his victim. Hank left Engine 36's captain to oversee their efforts, while he and a couple of Engine 36's members followed him back to Johnny's rescue attempts.

 

Carol, who stood with a pen and paper in her hand, just stood on the spot mesmerized. She couldn't take her eyes off the lean paramedic who had climbed up onto the side of the truck's cab and was trying desperately to open its door. Without being told, she understood how explosive this situation could be. Chet and Marco's efforts at keeping the vehicle hosed down, were a testament to how dangerous and deadly this rescue could turn. Despite no sign of a fire, the two continued to spray the vehicle down, never looking as though the job they were performing was in any way menial.

 

Carol noticed Don standing beside her, keeping the camera trained on the efforts of the crew. Gage was now climbing down from the overturned rig and talking with his captain. Mike Stoker seemed to show up out of nowhere with an instrument which looked like a pair of needle nose pliers belonging to the Jolly Green Giants. Soon, the instrument was in place and within minutes, the windshield was expertly removed, allowing the paramedic access to the driver of the oil tanker.

 

Watching Johnny's effortless movements within the cab, Carol's mind wandered back to Captain Stanley's thoughts on his younger paramedic.

 

"I've had the pleasure of watching John's growth over the last few years. He's much more level headed than he was just a few short years ago. I'm not saying he wasn't good or professional back then, because he was. He's just not so quick to agitate these days."

 

"John thrives on physical challenges. He not only loves to solve extrication problems, but loves to be the one doing it. He's usually the first to volunteer to crawl into a cramped area, climb a steep cliff, repel a cliff, climb a crane, you name it, John's there. And when it comes to search and rescue, there's no one better in the field. The department could write a text book on the subject using John as its example. He's like a blood hound sniffing out his find, John will never give up until his job is complete. But don't get me wrong, he knows his weaknesses as well as his strengths. As a matter of fact, he knows Roy's as well. He's a team player in the truest meaning of the word."

 

"If he feels some else has a better chance of getting a job done, he'll say so, or gladly step aside so that person can take over a rescue. And speaking of weaknesses, I think his biggest is his inability a lot of time to detach himself from the after affects of a rescue. He sometimes lets himself get too involved That's normally a  wonderful quality to have, but in our line of work, it can sometimes make this job a little unbearable."

 

"Of all of my crew, I think John is the toughest one to figure out. He's a study in contrasts. He's extremely intelligent and yet gullible, fun loving and yet easily hurt, a deep thinker and yet doesn't always think some of his actions through. Some days, I have to shake my head and wonder if he's the same person I worked with the previous shift, or even earlier that day. His mood can change as quick as a wit, but when he's struggling with a problem, it never affects his work. He's top notch. But still a study in contrasts." Hank smiled.

 

Carol couldn't help but smile back, finding Captain Stanley's smile infectious.

 

Returning to the present, Carol was surprised to find the crew had now managed to get the victim out of his rig and was currently loaded onto a backboard and lying on an ambulance stretcher. Johnny helped lift the victim into the ambulance and climbed into the vehicle himself. Roy slammed the doors shut and gave the customary two knocks, before the ambulance drove off. Seeing Don follow Roy to the squad, Carol assumed he was heading off to Rampart with the paramedic.

 

Seeing the crew was continuing to clean up the gasoline spillage, she started to walk around. Spotting a police officer sitting in his squad, she approached him and introduced herself.

 

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" Vince asked.

 

"I was just wondering if you had a couple of minutes to answer a few questions?" Carol asked.

 

"Sure." Vince slid his notebook into the chest pocket of his uniform.

 

"I've been following Station 51 around for a few days and was wondering if you respond to many of the same calls they do?"

 

"Enough to say I do, I guess."

 

"What's your take on these six men."

 

"As a team, there's not a better company within the County Fire Department, as far as I'm concerned. Hank's a heck of a leader, I think those guys would do just about anything for him."

 

"Did you know this crew before Hank came along?"

 

"Yes. They were still very professional, but they're different now. I don't think I could place my finger on it, but I’m sure it has to do with Hank's leadership. He's shown his crew through actions that they can trust him explicitly. That's what it all boils down to, trust. If those six men don't trust one another, than they aren't going to get much accomplished. Of course, that's just my opinion. The fire department has many, many crews and that's what it's all about. Trust, with a capital T."

 

Just as Carol was going to ask him another question, Vince's radio signaled a call which needed his attention.

 

"Sorry, Miss, I've gotta go."

 

"Thank-you for your thoughts and time, officer."

 

"Anytime." And with that, Vince started his squad and took off, lights flashing and siren blaring.

 

"We're ready to head back, Carol," came Hanks distinctive voice from behind her.

 

"'Kay," she answered and walked back to the engine with the tired fireman. Reaching her destination, she allowed Marco to help her up into Chet's seat and sat quietly contemplating Vince's last words. "Trust with a capital T."

 

~~~***~~~

 

The men of Station 51's A-shift were shocked as the documentary came to a close. They had somehow managed to survive an hour without being toned out. They each watched the television as the camera panned to a long shot of them each seated at the table playing a game of cards. It was a heated round of Gin Rummy, which Marco had eventually lost with Roy coming out the victor. As the six men stood and ran out of the room at the sound of the tones going off, Carol Wells' voice made a soft entrance.

 

"The call you just saw these men responding to turned out to be an industrial explosion. While no civilians sustained major injuries, three firefighters were seriously injured on that call. None of them being from Station 51, but paramedics Roy DeSoto and John Gage did treat two of their own that day. I still don't know how they managed to maintain their wits about them as they struggled to keep their fellow firefighters alive. John Gage's victim was a friend we met the night he went bowling. Many people wonder how these men can put their lives on the line for complete strangers. After watching them work for a period of seventy-two hours, I can."

 

"Never in my lifetime, have I met such a group of dedicated individuals. I'm happy to say I've had the pleasure of seeing them work up close. On a personal level, I'm extremely grateful to have earned their trust, not only so they would open up to me, but so they would allow me to meet their families and friends."

 

"It wasn't an easy task, I almost blew it by making a careless statement, but these men are remarkably special. Somehow, someway, they managed to put my remark behind them and still allow me within their fold. It was a privilege and an honor to watch them work. I can only hope that tonight's story allows you the insight, not only to see how special the firefighter's at Station 51 are, but how special all of the firefighters in all of the stations in this community are."

 

"I couldn't conclude tonight's special without letting you know a few details. Since the shooting of this documentary, Captain Stanley's daughter's basketball team won the city high school championships. Chet Kelly has learned to play a new song on his guitar. Christopher DeSoto's friend Jimmy really did think it was cool that Chris was going to be on television; and finally, Mike's wife, Beth Stoker, gave birth a week ago, to a seven pound, five ounce, baby girl named, Karen. Our deepest congratulations to Mike, Beth and their boys."

 

"I'm Carol Wells asking you, the next time you hear a fire engine's siren in your neighborhood, give a small prayer, asking for their safe return."

 

"On behave of the KTLA television family and the Los Angeles County Fire Department, thank-you for watching tonight's special."

 

As the closing music began to play, Mike got up from his chair, walked over to the kitchen table, and placed it back in its spot. Chet rounded up the glasses and brought them over to the sink, which he filled with warm water and soap. Marco took the bowl in his hands to the sink, while Captain Stanley did the same.

 

"I think she did a nice job." Roy finally spoke.

 

"Yeah, it wasn't too bad." His partner chimed in.

 

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I'm heading to bed." Mike left the room.

 

Captain Stanley followed close behind his engineer, saying as they entered the bunk room, "Having a baby at home sure makes for sleepless night, huh, Mike?"

 

"Sure does, I tend to get more sleep here." Stoker chuckled.

 

Within a few minutes, after Chet and Marco washed and dried the dishes, all of the men were laying in bed, most just about to fall asleep, when the tones went off and had them scrambling for the door.

 

Stations 51…unknown type rescue….1.3.5.3. La Brea….1.3.5.3 La Brea….time out…23:18.

 

 

The end

 

Thank-you, Kenda, for your insight and suggestions very early on during the writing of this story. Thank-you, as well, to Jill and Peggy for the beta reads. Your observations were invaluable. And finally, Audrey, thanks for understanding.

 

I started this story well before the tragedy of  9/11. Although the events of that horrific day didn't change the direction of this story, it did change its ending. I hope that you too, will say a small prayer the next time you hear your local fire engines screaming wildly, somewhere in your neighbourhood. Sharon.

 

 

Guest Dispatchers        Stories By Sharon