What is a Fireman?

He's the guy next door - a man's man with the memory of a little boy.

He has never gotten over the excitement of engines and sirens and danger.

He's a guy like you and me with warts and worries and unfulfilled dreams.

Yet he stands taller than most of us.

He's a fireman.

He puts it all on the line when the bell rings.

A fireman is at once the most fortunate and the least fortunate of men.

He's a man who saves lives because he has seen too much death.

He's a gently man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control.

He's responsive to a child's laughter because his arms have held too many small bodies that will never laugh again.

He's a man who appreciates the simple pleasures of life - hot coffee held in numb, unbending fingers - a warm bed for bone and muscle compelled beyond feeling - the camaraderie of brave men - the divine peace and selfless service of a job well done in the name of all men.

He doesn't wear buttons or wave flags or shout obscenities.

When he marches, it is to honor a fallen comrade.

He doesn't preach the brotherhood of man.

He lives it.

 

Author unknown

 

The fireman stood at the Golden Gate

His head was bent and low

He merely asked the man of fate

Which way he ought to go.

 

What have you done Saint Peter said

To seek admittance here

I was a fireman down on Earth

for many and many a year.

 

Saint Peter opened wide the gate

And gently pressed the bell.

Come in he said and choose your harp

You've had your share of hell.

 

 

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