Phil Major

The fire service ranks among the most tradition-rich groups or organizations I have come across.

Though I have been covering fires, wrecks and rescues more than four decades, it has been only in recent years that I have learned many of these grand traditions.

I was reminded of this at my father-in-law’s funeral when the radio dispatcher sounded last call.

If you are not familiar, it is a stirring, somber moment as the deceased’s name is called over the radio for a final time, and after receiving no response, the dispatcher recalls his years of service, notes he has gone on to become a guardian for all fire fighters and concludes with the statement, “We’ll take it from here.”

Had these been normal times we likely would have tried to incorporate some of the other funeral customs of the fire service, like bagpipers or having a pumper truck serve as the caisson or a formally-dressed color guard.

As it was, a nearby department brought their aerial truck and hoisted the ladder high in the air flying a large American flag. As the cemetery sits atop a hill adjacent to a major highway, I’m sure motorists from both directions could see it from aways off.

And to start the ceremony one of the local trucks made a slow round of the cemetery sounding its mournful siren.

Among the other traditions with which I am familiar is one that’s more humorous. When a fire fighter gets his photo in the paper, he owes his crew some ice cream. I’ve seen it in enough places to know it must be a fairly widespread practice. I might even admit to doing it on purpose once or twice.

Another tradition involves the dedication of a new truck, which goes back to the horse and buggy days when new apparatus had to be pushed into the stall by hand. Apparently the reverse gear on a horse can be pretty balky. Most of today’s equipment is much too heavy to actually push, so the effort is largely ceremonial.

The push back follows a formal ceremony and a cursory washing of the vehicle.

Another grand tradition is for fire fighters advancing in rank, an event which is filled with pomp and circumstance.

I mentioned the bagpipers earlier and had the occasion to see the bagpipe corps for the Fort Worth department which featured a young man, maybe not even yet in his teens. He, and they, were impressive.

Steve would have loved that.

He served the tiny community volunteer fire department well over 30 years, including I’m not sure how many terms as chief. If you’re familiar with such organizations, it’s equal parts doing a good job and no one else willing to take it on.

The well-deserved dollars that have flowed to departments large and small following 9-11 have helped such groups make dramatic upgrades to their equipment.

But it still takes lots of money to keep one going, and in addition to running the calls, training for those calls and maintaining the equipment, the volunteers also handle much of their own fundraising. I always thought it ironic that Steve bought the cakes his wife made for the auction that followed the annual fish fry. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a point of pride.

My wife reminded me how much it bothered her dad having to retire from the fire service, but he reached the age he just could not do it any longer.

He made his community a better place and made us all proud.

We’ll take it from here.