That about sums Thursday-Friday up.
I spent a day-and-a-half in Richland, Washington with Seattle firefighters Kenny Stuart and Dave Churchill going through "Fire Ops 101," a five-part simulation exercise designed to put me and other elected officials in a firefighter's boots for a day. The event was sponsored by the International Association of Firefighters.
It was an exhausting, exciting, eye-opening experience.
My day started with suiting-up about 40 pounds of bunker gear, boots, mask, air tank, and helmet. The weather was perfect, about 70 degrees outside. My first stop was the burn building at the Hammer Training Facility.
Burning Building
Our assignment was to enter a burning building with a charged, inch-and-a-half hose line and extinguish the fire. It was hot! (The fire came from gas jets concealed in simulated furniture.) Temperatures rose to about 1,000 degrees at the ceiling, 150 degrees near the floor. In a real house fire, the temperatures could easily be twice as high or even higher.
We were on our knees. Stuart was my "shadow," which meant he was right behind me helping to pull the hose and shouting instructions.
"Aim at the base of the fire, sweep back and forth."
"Don't spray the ceiling, that disperses the heat throughout the room and fries any victims who are here."
"Get down, keep low!"
After about eight minutes we backed out of the building and allowed another crew to take our place. I was wringing wet with sweat. I couldn't wait to get my mask off; take gloves off, squeeze gloves between knees, loosen helmet strap, push helmet back, loosen mask straps, pull mask down. It took forever. My heart was racing from the stress of my first firefighting experience. Stuart explained what happened, what real firefighters would have done in a similar situation, two-in and two-out rules and the importance of four-person crews so firefighters can enter a burning building immediately to search for victims and not wait for additional units to arrive, how fires double in size every minute, the dangers from toxic smoke and gases created by the fire, how to create a massive spray shield with the nozzle ("turn it left for life") to protect firefighters, and how to follow a hose line out of a building ("it's your lifeline to safety").
Extrication
Our next stop was a simulated vehicle roll-over accident scene with two people trapped. We used the "jaws of life" tool to pry open a door frame, then cut the hinges with a special saw that cut like a warm knife through butter. I watched another participant press a little hand-held punch tool against the door window. With no effort at all the glass shattered into thousands of little pieces giving us access to the trapped driver.
Search and Rescue, Plus Maze
Next, we entered a smoke-filled building to search for a fire victim. There was no visible fire, but I couldn't see beyond my hand held about 12 inches in front of my face. It was pitch black. The crew before us had failed to find the victim. Our job was to enter the building, follow the hose line to the nozzle, then resume the search, pulling the hose with us. Stuart told me we would do a "right hand" search, meaning we would keep going to the right at all times, and use our right hand to feel the wall for door hinges and knobs, and use our left hand to pull our hose and search for victims. We never found her! Our safe time to be in the building ended after about nine minutes and we had to leave. I remembered back to our opening meeting at the beginning of the day when we watched slides of a house fire in Richland and listened to 911 calls from neighbors who reported that a five year old child was trapped in the basement. He wasn't found in time and perished. I wondered what it must have been like for those firefighters who prayed they would have enough time.
The maze was the worst part of the day for me. It was really an extension of our search and rescue drill. Enter the maze and find your way out. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Try crawling around on your hands and knees with 40 pounds of gear, heat, smoke so thick you can't see anything, knowing that you only have about 15 to 20 minutes of air in your tank. My knees were really sore by this time in our day, and I was hot, sweaty, and knew that my energy level was pretty low. Frankly, I was exhausted.
I went in first, followed closely by Stuart who kept reassuring me and urging me forward. Overturned furniture, closets, low ceilings, crawl spaces, and then my alarm bell starts ringing. I'm running out of air. I'm below 50% capacity, the "exit now" point. Stuart tells me he will "buddy up" with me if I use all of my air. (All firefighters carry a special hose that allows them to plug into an emergency valve on another firefighter's air tank; of course, whatever air supply your buddy has left will now be depleted twice as fast with two breathers.) We keep crawling, searching for our exit and light and fresh air. My alarm is ringing faster and louder, the LED lights in my face mask have turned from green to red . . . two lights, then just one. I'm running out of air! I turn and yell for Stuart to move to the front and get me out. I sense a panicky fear beginning to well up. How silly. This is all just a game. I grab hold of Stuart's pant leg and keep crawling. "Belly crawl, low ceiling," Stuart shouts. I'm down on my belly squeezing under a piece of plywood that has fallen, then a piece of lumber falls across my boots. My face is boiling hot, I feel sweat dripping into my eyes—or am I crying? I'm scared. Stuart yells that he sees light ahead. I can't see it. We turn another corner. There's the door, but it's blocked. We crawl forward. Stuart gets the door opened. "Be careful, don't step on the baby," Stuart says. I look down, my foot is on the baby doll's belly.
Emergency Medical
Just two exercises to go. This one was easier, no air tank or mask, but a very cool $30,000 dummy that talks, breathes, even pukes. We get to practice the latest CPR techniques—30 rapid chest compressions, two breaths—and then prepare the patient for the backboard and trip down the stairs from the second floor. Once in the ambulance we continue CPR while driving at normal speeds; it's tough to stand in the back of an ambulance doing chest compressions while turning, weaving to avoid cars that haven't pulled to the right.
Rooftop Ventilation
Our final exercise involves climbing a 105 foot aerial ladder with full gear, and I don't like heights. Since the ladder can't touch the roof of the building (they're designed to absorb weight into their base) I encounter a new challenge I hadn't anticipated when I get to the top—how to get from the ladder to the safety of the rooftop. It's difficult, but I make it. Gosh, what a wimp!
At a real fire scene, getting a hole cut in the roof is crucial to getting the fire under control and protecting the firefighters inside the building. Ventilation holes allow trapped smoke, gases, and heat to escape the building, dramatically lowering temperatures inside and drawing the fire "out of the building."
By the end of the day, I am thoroughly exhausted, but so much more understanding and appreciative of what firefighters do.
Three lessons were taught at each exercise station—
(1) Time is critical with every kind of response. Fires can double in size every minute. With trauma victims and medical patients, seconds matter. The national standard for the first firefighter to arrive is four minutes.
(2) Firefighters do highly technical work. The variety of incidents, the sophistication of their equipment, and the complexity of detail they face makes the job of a firefighter difficult and demanding. This is a very high skill profession.
(3) People-power intensive. The general rule is more is better. The more firefighters at the scene of an incident, the faster help can be provided, whether its a fire, a medical emergency, or a vehicle collision with trapped victims. More skilled hands on scene means faster help.
