Report From Engine Co. 82 - Dennis Smith [41]
“Say no more.” Benny says, as I take the nob. This is a game we play among ourselves, called “steal the nob,” and Benny understands. We can play it at a fire like this, because we are not having great difficulty in breathing, and the job is relatively easy. But, it is not a game we can play often.
The rooms before me are hotter than I anticipated. I am on my knees, and sitting on my heels. Lieutenant Welch is beside me in the same position, and Knipps is behind feeding the line to us. We advance slowly, moving our knees forward, inch by inch, as if we were on a holy pilgrimage. We can’t see the sky in this apartment, and the smoke has nowhere to go. We have extinguished the remaining fire in three rooms, and there is only one more room to go. It is in a corner of the building, and the fallen roof gives the impression of a cathedral ceiling. We have to creep along on our stomachs. The room has lit up completely, and the fire is reaching out towards us. It seems to be dancing, and as it moves it makes me think of an animated film of the sun I saw recently at a science fair—all about a moving fire, one hundred and ten times larger than the earth, holding our solar system together. The room before me is only ten by twelve feet, but it’s the closest any of us will get to the heat of the sun.
I have my head down now, and the nozzle is directed at the ceiling. I don’t have to look up. I know the fire is cooling because the smoke is banking down. Lieutenant Welch is next to me, saying, “Beautiful, Dennis, beautiful. Keep the stream on the ceiling, we’ve got it made. It’s a cup of tea. Let’s move in another foot.”
The fire is out now, but the smoke is still heavy. There must still be fire in the walls, or caught between the ceiling and the roof. We will need a truckman here fast, before it lights up again.
“Hey, get a Ladder company up here to pull the ceilings,” Lieutenant Welch yells back to no one in particular.
The room is still hot, but we are kneeling again. The water from the nozzle is cooling the walls, and spraying back at us. My body is wet with perspiration, and the spray feels good.
“Shut down the line. I’m comin' in, and I don’t wanna get wet,” comes a voice from behind.
“It’s too damn cold out to get wet.”
I had forgotten about the cold. Big Van from Ladder 42 has come with a six-foot hook. The long wooden handle with its spiked end looks like a broom handle next to Big Van. He is two heads taller than I, and when he reached 260 pounds he quit drinking beer. He drinks scotch now, by the glassful, like we would drink beer, or a Frenchman his wine.
“What’s the problem here? Whadda ya want me to do?” he asks in that sincere way peculiar to big men. The smoke doesn’t seem to affect him at all.
“Pull the ceilings Van,” Lieutenant Welch says. “See where all that smoke is coming from at the corner.”
Van pushes his hook up at the ceiling, and it goes through the plaster and lathe like a pin through a sponge. He pulls the ceiling down in huge chunks, and we can see the fire. He backs out of the room so I can hit the fire, and when he returns to pull more of the ceiling he complains about the drops of water falling on him.
Our job in this apartment is finished. The ceilings and walls are opened. The fire is out. We return to the other rooms to let loose a final bath. Big Van works with his hook, and Vinny Royce, who has usurped the nob, takes care not to get him wet.
Chief Marks thunders into the room. He directs his portable lamp around the comers, and carefully checks for signs of living fire. “How are you due here, Lieutenant?” he roars.
Lieutenant Welch answers quickly, “Second due on the second alarm, Chief.”
Since we are the second engine company assigned on the second alarm, Lieutenant Welch knows that there is not much left for us to do here, and he waits for the order that relieves us. The first alarm companies will give the building a final wash down.
Chief Marks moves from room to room, apartment to apartment, looking at every cranny and comer, fallen beam and ceiling. He