In the back of a desk drawer there’s an old poster, it’s been there for ages gone by. I was once told it comes from a time when fires raged and people sacrificed themselves for the lives of others. I finally decided it deserved to be framed and while there, the shop owner informed me that the bulky subject of the photo was called an “engine” though it looks like no engine I’ve ever seen. The primitive clothes in the background, used for protecting the individuals that sacrificed themselves. Oh what a life it would have been to live back in those days. The days of gallant actions and adventure around every corner.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite that way but looking into the past has that effect on people sometimes. And I’m no exception; there’s always been an old poster on our department wall and it always gave me this feeling. I’ve always wondered in 100, 200, maybe 300 years, what are they going to think of the life and times we lived. Even looking back on the recent history of my department I find myself wanting to idealize it. It’s kind of funny how fast one develops a sense of nostalgia. Not long after I got onto the department, I was sitting around the fire hall, listening to the stories of some of the more seasoned members; I was in awe of their stories. They had such great memories and a joy to their eyes as they retold them. I was dying to experience those memories, to make some of my own. It was something that I knew I would have to wait many years for… It’s good to know from time to time that what you know can be wrong.
I’ve been working in fire for eleven years now and I had to pause a moment and chuckle when I found myself telling stories to the new rookies. I didn’t, and still to a point don’t, think they quite understood how good they have it. They tend to take some of the equipment for granted. It’s easy to do when that’s all you’ve experienced and it’s probably how my mentors looked at me. Who knows, they may still, though I hope it’s to a great degree less than they used to. I’ve seen a lot of changes and advances in our department and I try to take every little thing to heart.
When I first got on, our department was considerably smaller. We had way too much area to cover and far too little personnel and equipment to do the job effectively. We covered all of Johnson County except inside the town of Buffalo, giving us a total of about forty five hundred square miles. Our gear was old, outdated, and handed down from person to person. Our equipment was running but in constant need of repair. Even the hall was rented from the county. Our meetings were tailgate meetings and after a long fire, we all sat back cracked a beer and enjoyed a job well done. Those were the good times.
Don’t get me wrong, times aren’t so bad now. It’s just that I’ve seen a lot of changes go by quickly. There were new additions, new equipment and now a new hall. I find myself saying things like “I remember when” and “when I first got on” and the people I’m telling it too are newer than me while a few of them are older than me. It’s a feeling that I liked and I wanted to share with whoever might be going through the old department photos sometime in the future. I wanted to immortalize the last few moments of the old fire hall, so I took this picture just before we moved halls. It’s my dedication to the old hall when our bunks were by the engines and we weren’t above sharing gear. It was a time when the tailgate meeting was normal. In short, it’s a dedication to the good ol’ times.