Report From Engine Co. 82 - Dennis Smith [89]
Cosmo and Kevin have carried children down from the second floor. In the street again, the children are delivered into the warm arms of neighbors. The fire whips around the center hall of the ground floor, and the men of Engine 85 have moved out to the vestibule. George Hiegman must be having trouble with the hydrant. Did someone hacksaw off the controlling stem for a quarter’s worth of brass, or shove beer cans or soda bottles down the casing?
I look expectantly for Ladder 31, but they haven’t arrived yet. Benny has returned to the fire escape, and I follow quickly. The people on the street shout about children being left behind on the fourth floor. Benny goes in one window, and I go in another. The smoke is heavy now throughout the building. I am in a living room. A cheap print framed in plastic hangs on the wall. It looks like a western sunset. I look under the vinyl-covered furniture. There are two bedrooms, and I look under the beds, and in the closets. My eyes are wet, and my nose is running, but the kitchen and the bathroom are clear—there are no unconscious bodies, or frightened whimpering children.
I return to the fire escape. I am not sure now if I should continue to search the building, or go down to the street and stretch a second line to the floor above the fire. The decision is made for me as I see Ladder 31 careening up Intervale Avenue. Ladder 48 is right behind them. The “’truckies” will now search and ventilate the building. I head down the fire escape thinking again about fire. It was going good, and the chances are that it has probably gotten through to the floor above. As I reach the top of the drop-ladder 1 hear Benny’s voice calling for me. He is coming down the fire escape with a small girl in his arms. I meet him between the first and second landing. “Take her down for me, Dennis,” he says. “I found her in her crib. I’m going back up.” His face is black with smoke, and a heavy cylinder of mucus hangs from his nose. The child is crying, which is a good sign.
There is a woman waiting at the bottom of the ladder. She is shrieking hysterically “Maria, Maria.” Another woman holds her shoulders as she takes the baby from me. I can see through her tears the happiness in her simple, unadorned eyes—that true happiness that is unique in a mother’s love for her child. She doesn’t know Benny, and I wonder if she will ever think of him. pray for him.
Lieutenant Collins, Cosmo, and Kevin are in the street taking orders from Chief Niebrock. The Chief’s walkie-talkie is blaring and squawking, and the transmission is broken up. The only words that are understandable are “roof,” and “the bulkhead door.” The Chief speaks into the transmitter in his slow, confident way, “Please repeat ijour message. You are coming in broken up.” And the radio just squeals in reply.
The Chief looks at Lieutenant Collins and the rest of us. Engine 45 has already started a second line to the floor above, and Chief Niebrock orders us to help them with the stretch. The second line should have been ours, but we have all been thinking about other things. Lieutenant Collins, Cosmo, and Kevin helped carry people down the fire escapes, and they searched the apartments on the lower floors. Now, we will have to help Engine 45 stretch its line without getting a real piece of the action. We’ll just squat in the hall as Engine 45 fights its way in with the nozzle.
Engine 85 is making good progress with its line. Marty Hannon and Jim Barrett are on the nozzle. They are in the apartment, but they haven’t made the front room yet, and the fire is still pushing out of the windows. Bill Robbie is right behind them with a mask, but Marty and Jim won’t take a blow. Captain Konak is beside them yelling the traditional words of confidence. “Beautiful, Marty, you got it. Move in a little more. Give us some more line Robbie.