I don't think I've ever used the term "harrowing" before in my writing, but there's a first time for everything. For the last week I've been preoccupied with and bothered by the news of the #BoydIncident in downtown Los Angeles, where 11 Los Angeles Fire Department firefighters from Station 9 (the busiest fire station in the nation) were injured in an explosion. There has been widely-circulated video of the explosion, like this one. I'm not embedding it because it's graphic and I want you to click into it knowing that it's deeply... harrowing. If you do click into it, make sure to watch it no less than three times.
Let me back up a bit. My connection to the LAFD began back in 2013 when I started volunteering for the Widows, Orphans, and Disabled Firefighters Fund because my friend #Juliet was their event coordinator. It continued on through 2016 when I took on the Los Angeles Firemen's Relief Association, the parent organization to #WODFF, as a social media client. Today, not only do I have #LAFRA, but I've added the Los Angeles Firefighters Association (#LAFFA) as well. They are two organizations I'm extremely proud and lucky to work for.
I remember the first day I went to the LAFRA offices for a board meeting to meet the trustees, a little more than four years ago. I was sitting in a room mostly full of clean-cut men dressed in collared shirts and slacks, mild-mannered and ready for business. This was my first impression of my new coworkers, and as I struggle to get a grip on my emotions about the Boyd Incident I think this is important to remember. Over the years I've had a wonderful experience with LAFRA and WODFF, supporting the awesome staff, marketing our initiatives, attending our fundraising events, and getting to meet new people all the time...many of whom apparently function as superheroes while they aren't wearing their khakis.
This is going to sound ridiculously stupid, but I'm going to be honest. After all these years of softball and golf tournaments, street fair fundraisers, open houses and occasional holiday parties, I recently admitted to Juliet that it was hard for me to come to terms with the fact that people like #Bob, #Joe, #Frank, #Chris, #Danny, and #Gayle, while they seem like normal, average family folks (with wives, husbands, kids and pets that I adore!) are the same people who are wearing ash-covered turnouts battling the fires that have been sending ash and smoke to my apartment the last few fire seasons; the same people that were dispatched to Hurricane Harvey to perform search and rescue missions; the same people that are using the jaws of life to pry someone out of a mangled car on the freeway; and funny enough, the same people I requested to come educate and entertain families at a kids' night event I planned back in 2010. They are also the same people who showed up at my parents' house back in September to transport my #dad to the hospital when he was having his TIA (with red lights and sirens, as my dad made sure to let me know), and the same people who showed up to the same spot about a month later...when no transport was necessary.
I don't mean to bring up that last one as a point of failure, but a point of strength. I can't imagine having a job where you have someone else's life in your hands and their family is watching your every move, knowing that even if you do your best someone may not get to go home tonight. That takes an extraordinary kind of strength - one that I think most people won't know in their lifetimes. I certainly don't. I couldn't have that job. As I get older I add more and more to my definitions of words like "hero" and "strength" and "courage," and right now firefighters and firefighter/paramedics embody so much of those definitions. Something else I can add to those definitions?
"Walk through a fire ball and live to tell about it."
So let's get back to that video. The reason I said you have to watch a minimum of three times (although let's be honest you probably watched more than that) is because there is so much to see, you can't get it all the first couple of times. I've heard recording of the "mayday" radio calls as well and it just doesn't get more chilling than this. One of the things that grips me the most in the footage is something I didn't notice the first few times I watched it. After the firefighters descend the aerial ladder they walk towards the rear of the truck, and as one turns around to watch his teammates behind him, he realizes that they are stuck in a much bigger blaze than he was and he goes back. HE GOES BACK. I get goosebumps writing those words. Most, if not all of us, would have a hard time going FORWARD in this situation, but this...this...this SUPER-HUMAN LIFE FORM...GOES BACK! I don't even know what to call this, friends. "Brave" is the 3-year-old boy who doesn't cry when he gets a shot at the doctor's office. "Courageous" is the 6-year-old girl who tells her daddy she doesn't need her training wheels anymore, but this...THIS...I have no clue what THIS is.
By some miracle, all 11 are thankfully alive and recovering, and seeing some of their smiling faces on social media has been comforting. However, the road to recovery for burn victims is often long and arduous. The last firefighter down the engulfed ladder is Captain II Victor Aguirre from LAFD Station 3. He was working overtime at 9s that day and his hands were badly burned in this incident. The night before, Friday, he had helped Juliet orchestrate this drive-by from 3s - complete with lights and sirens - through a Bunker Hill community for 'thank you hour.' He has a wife and two sons who are staying in a hotel near the hospital and this GoFundMe page has been set up for them.
To be clear, I'm just a civilian who watched this horrifying event on the news while sitting on my couch. I can't imagine the trauma suffered by everyone physically present, and the emotional trauma thrust upon not only them but all the people closest to them. For most people, including the rest of us in the general public, I think the most gnawing unrest comes from the feeling of helplessness. We feel uncomfortable witnessing such a horrific scene unfold upon people who are there to help us, and there is nothing we can do to help them, and it's okay to feel that way. I think it was important for me to figure this out, and I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one. I also think it's why, at times like these, so many people are willing to donate money and find other things they can do to help. WODFF has been around for over 100 years but so many people are now figuring out who they are and what they do because there is an emotional human element compelling them to do so. It is one of the beautiful things about the ebbs and flows of humanity.
While I understand this incident is an extreme example and not a regular occurrence in a firefighter's daily routine, I also know that these guys signed up for this life. They signed up to put themselves on the line for the communities they serve and regularly put themselves in dangerous situations when duty calls. This is nothing short of heroic and I am inspired by the bravery and courage - for lack of better terms - they and their families display every day when they walk out their doors. Personally, I can't relate to this exceptional, super-human strength. I am an event planner, a social media manager, an ice skating coach, and I write about professional hockey players. And I will never come home and say "I had a rough day at work" ever again.
I pinned this quote to my Pinterest board because I love the metaphoric meaning behind it; I never imagined I'd use it for its literal translation:
"I love when people who have been through hell walk out of the flames carrying buckets of water for those still consumed by the fire." -Stephanie Sparkles
*The Widows, Orphans & Disabled Firefighters Fund is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) charity dedicated to helping the families of LAFD firefighters facing a serious crisis, and will be serving the firefighters injured in the Boyd Incident. To donate, click here.