Days before the next blaze, drivers perform road gymnastics with the meanest ride in town and engineers drill by perching the ladder in the tightest of spaces.
Hours before the call goes out, the rig is scrubbed and polished to a strict white-glove standard.
Minutes before an alarm, jokes are exchanged as brothers would around the family table.
Seconds before a life needs saving, the men and women of the Madison fire department sleep soundly?
And then the bell tolls.
6:45 a.m.
We arrive to find our names already placed on the board, where the daily riding assignments are meted out.
A chief and his assistant will stand watch. Two lieutenants, each with a driver and two firefighters, man the station’s ladder and engine. A third lieutenant with driver operate Squad 1, a vehicle that doubles as an EMS first responder and a veritable equipment shed on wheels.
6:55 a.m.
The firefighters of Station 1, Company B filter in, everyone early, as the crew of Company A takes their time on the way out. All gather on the second floor of Madison’s flagship station, taking in coffee strong enough to break the haze of two students yet to see Madison at such an hour and making us feel a part of the family.
Keith “Cap’n” Lawler, a treasured old-timer who returns on weekends to talk shop, rests at the head of the long table and welcomes us to the fraternity.
“Its been a long 21 years,” he said.
One would assume such a period of service would earn great patriarchal respect, but Lawler was not finished.
“Twenty-one years since I retired, son,” he says. “Started with Madison Fire in 1947.”
And still coming back.
Though veterans will admit the department has become less militaristic over the years, the virtues of seniority and respect are held in high esteem.
“Tradition around here has always been strong, and hopefully it will stay strong,” says veteran Firefighter Dan Davidson.
“Cap here was one of the best. Young guys look to the old guys, and not just for stories. When you’re young, common sense is uncommon.”
The crew’s current rookie, Firefighter Rich Reppen, is responsible for everything from mopping the floors to raising the flag each morning.
Firefighter Tim Hagen, who has been on the job for less than three years, just finished up a long stint as the company’s junior member.
“[Being a rookie] really isn’t all that bad, but it keeps you on your toes,” he says. “Let’s just say if the phone’s ringing and you aren’t answering it, you’re gonna be in some trouble.”
8:10 a.m.
Man down on Capitol steps
The day’s first call interrupts the beginning of morning chores. The single tone echoing through the garage indicates a medical emergency.
Jumping into the rig, Lt. Dennis Lindl and Engineer John Fleming calmly — but briskly — pull Squad 1 into the clear morning sun en route to the state Capitol .
“We’ve got a man down, bleeding,” Lindl says over the wailing claxon. “Doesn’t sound dire, but we can’t take anything for granted.”
On EMS calls, the department goes to the scene to assist. Once a situation is controlled, ambulance-based medical technicians take over. All firefighters are trained first responders for EMS calls.
We arrived to find a transient man on the ground, clutching the back of his head. Capitol police officers were already on the scene.
After inspecting and stabilizing the man, “he’s a local,” Lindl says, meaning the man was homeless. “We run into a lot of different things in this area, with a shelter nearby. He said he just fell and cut himself, but its hard to be sure of that.”
“Our biggest concern with a call like that is the blood.” he says. “We don’t know what he, or anyone else, might have in him.”
8:30 a.m.
Langdon Street kiosk fire
Just as the morning’s chores are being wrapped up, the engine is called to investigate smoke coming from a Langdon Street kiosk. The engine pulls out of the station and races up North Henry Street towards Langdon. In the three-way intersection of State, North Henry and Johnson Streets, a near disaster is averted when the engine swerves to miss a student lazily crossing the street. The firefighters are outraged: Hagen, the engine’s driver, honks the horn and yells a warning as we speed past the unwitting pedestrian.
Moments later, we pull up to the already-charred kiosk. Dousing kiosks is routine for Engine 1 — on a typical weekend night, arsonists may strike as many as three or four of the wooden structures — their layers of paper make them easy targets.
The fire has burned out upon arrival, but the firefighters douse the smoldering mass for safety purposes.
8:45 a.m.
Clean!
Back at the station, all the trucks are pulled from the garage and halfway into Dayton St. for inspection by the officers. Junior firefighters take hoses to blast grease and grime from the floor of the garage.
We are handed brooms and nozzles.
“Looks like we’ve got some new rookies today, Capn’!” Davidson yells above the din.
“Might as well get some work out of those young legs,” Lawler says with a grin as he makes his way out.
9:30 a.m.
Ladder training
Ladder 1 is pulled broadside in front of the station for a test of the extension mechanism. Apparatus engineers practice guiding the machinery.
“A lot of training goes on for every task firefighters are required to perform,” Lt. Peter Ragotzkie says. “But expertise only comes with experience.”
Such care in cleaning, inspections and training is taken not only for the safety of the public, but also to protect taxpayer investments: a new ladder is valued at $500,000, an engine at $300,000.
11:30 a.m.
Lunch
Firefighter Fiona Scott, the only woman in the company, was tabbed as cook for the shift.
Each member of the crew has thrown in eight dollars — enough for two home cooked meals and snacks in between.
“We always make sure to eat well,” Scott says. “If you try out as a cook and you don’t do it right, you won’t be cooking again anytime soon. If you’re good, you get put back.”
After a hearty brunch of french toast, eggs benedict, irish potatoes, fruit salad, bacon, sausage, sweet rolls, orange juice, milk and coffee, we quickly learn why Scott often cooks.
11:55 a.m.
A little down time
After a morning of hard work, the crew retreats to the “TV room” –equipped with more than enough barca loungers to accommodate the crew and its two new rookies. Company B lightly dozes off.
“Normally, during the week, we do training runs or inspections in the afternoon,” Davidson says. “But, because its St. Patty’s weekend and the weather is pretty good, we’re really gonna be hoppin’ all through the night. So you better take advantage of the rest when you can get it.”
While the department employs one of the highest number of women firefighters in the nation per capita, Scott is the only woman assigned to Company B. Today, she is cooking, partly because the chief is partial to her mouthwatering chocolate-chip cookies — which we found equally delectable. As the men start cleaning the dishes, she relaxes on her own and enjoys the meal she helped prepare.
Scott has donned a fire helmet for 10 years, first as a volunteer and for the past four years with the Madison Fire Department. Since joining the Madison fire department, Scott says she has been embraced by her peers – in the historically male profession, this is regarded as no small task.
The firefighters of Company B speak often of family. In a sense, they have two families: Their families at home (almost all of them are married) and their family at the fire station. Although no Madison firefighter has died in decades, the oft-spoken-of risk is omnipresent. Scott takes comfort in the relationships.
“These guys are like my brothers,” Scott says as she finishes her lunch. “They kid me like a brother and they look out for me like a brother.”
1:15 p.m.
Training for the greenhorns
For some afternoon activity, we are treated to a round of training similar to what new recruits might undergo.
Outfitted in 40 pounds of full gear — including jackets, helmets, air tanks and axes — we are taken to the boiler room in the station’s basement.
Our assignment is to play a little hide-and-seek — firefighter style.
The room was pitch black; we had no information on the layout and we were looking for two “victims” — firefighters who could be hidden anywhere. The functioning furnace simulated heat.
We hit the deck and grasped each other’s heels in a crawl, sweeping the floor with axes and free hands.
After some broken glass but no survivors, we were given the benefit of some new technology — a $20,000 thermal-imaging camera, which is used to detect body heat in dark conditions.
Wit h its aid, we quickly find the “victims” and exhaustedly disrobe; dripping in sweat after just 20 minutes of work.
2:30 p.m.
A cruise on the best
ride in town
On the way out, the crew lines us up for a commemorative picture in front of the rigs.
Pose, click, splash. The two rookies are doused from above.
“If you can’t laugh at yourself and have fun, it will be a long career,” Davidson says. “A little humility goes a long way.”
Foolery aside, the trucks need gas, the weather is good, and the afternoon a little slow.
Station 1 piles into the rigs for “territory scouting,” checking the downtown area for any new construction or road obstacles that could pose problems on a busy Saturday night.
Though there is work to be done, the side benefits of being a firefighter can’t be ignored.
Kid’s eyes light up. People stop and wave.
“Since Sept. 11, people are really cheering. Its sad, but that’s what it took for people to have a different regard for what we do,” Lt. Dave Cerqua says.
On the way home, during a stop on Lake Mendota to check ice levels should a lake rescue be called, a large dead carp is retrieved from shore and stowed away on the ladder?
5:05 p.m.
YWCA 101. E. Mifflin
Shortly after returning, a call comes in from the YWCA with an elderly woman experiencing knee pain. She is transported to the hospital.
5:15 p.m.
Dinner
Homemade pizza and salad are the evening meal.
After dinner, we have some free time to read, work around the station, and prep for the evening.
We elect for some college basketball. Others tinker with faulty chainsaws a crewman had brought from home.
At 6:40, our evening is interrupted with a single tone, but followed by another.
Two alarms.
Fire.
6:42 p.m.
Clear the way
The ladder and squad are called to 1445 Highlands St., on the west side of Madison — Station 4’s territory.
“This is the big one,” Davidson says as we literally leap from our chairs and he scrambles into his gear — without the standard-issue blue trousers.
“Hey…when my legs are sweaty, I can’t move,” he says. “So, its common sense — I just take my pants off.”
Even in emergencies, humor is alive.
We ride in the rig, sailing down University Avenue at speeds exceeding 60 miles per hour. Cresting the hill of Campus Drive, a billow of smoke rises in the distance.
Lindl’s eyes light up as he spies the scene from the passenger seat.
“This is it, boys. You stay clear when we get there,” he says.
A bulletin crackles over the radio –the whereabouts of the home’s inhabitants remain unknown.
6:50 p.m.
Arrival
Hitting the scene eight minutes after the bell, Company B scrambles its rigs into position; the ladder maneuvering to a hydrant and the squad raising spotlights over the flaming building.
The garage of a hillside ranch home is engulfed in flames and smoke is licking out the windows, placing neighboring homes in danger. The frame of a car parked inside is hardly discernable.
Once out of the truck, we run to the driveway just in time to see the flames “roll” distinctly yet unconscionably fast from the garage to the interior of the home. Fire spits from a hole in the roof and the front window.
“We got here and just started to pump,” Station 4 Firefighter Dave “Dirt” Holtz, the first man on the scene, said afterwards. “As soon as I set my foot in the front door, the ceiling caved down in front of me.”
As Station 4 personnel battle the blaze head on, our company charges the rear, — isolating the flames threatening other property — while ramming through a chain-link fence to advance on the blaze from the back porch.
The owners of the home are soon located — they have exited safely with their dogs. But the family cat remains unaccounted for.
7:15 p.m.
Sweat, toil, and a rescue
Fighters finally crash the front door and enter the home while others work to mount the roof and chop holes for ventilation.
Soon, a firefighter emerges from the front door with an armfull of a petrified — but unharmed — black kitty. It is given some oxygen and returned to the hands of its owner.
We work to get water and fresh oxygen tanks to the fighters, as spectators and TV cameras crowd around in the distance and the chief barks orders.
After nearly an hour of resistance, the fire is weakening and fighters rotate out for quick breaks.
Despite the losses in damage, the knowledge of saved lives and the adrenaline of overcoming an “enemy,”have the crew emerging for water and air on a high.
“This is a real morale booster for us,” Lindl says. “Even though it’s a huge loss, everyone made it out and we got the job done.”
Eventually, we help roll hoses up and work to move gear back into the rigs. The home is completely destroyed, little if any property will be salvageable.
Ironically, the firefighters mobilize at the scene in mere seconds, but cleanup takes over an hour.
Afterwards, it is discovered the homeowner was operating on a classic Corvette he had recently purchased. A problem with the fuel system led the car to combust after he left it unattended.
11:30 p.m.
Return home
We return to a firehouse filled with quiet pride and exhausted firefighters. The crew showers, grabs a quick bite, and beds down for an evening that all know will not pass quietly.
A jealous Engine 1 had been left behind to hold down the fort.
“There is nothing worse than sitting at the station when there’s a big fire,” Hagen says. “Big fires are why we signed up for this job.”
12:30 a.m.
The Towers Apartments
Squad 1 is called on an EMS to a woman down in the Towers Apartment Building. Rescue 4 arrived quickly and handled the call.
12:50 a.m.
Fire Call
No sooner do we arrive back than two alarms sound again. There is a fire in a warehouse on Vera St. The house awakes, hits the rigs, and cruises out as before. A mile from the station, the radio buzzes in ‘false alarm’. We pull a U-turn and head back to bed.
1:10 a.m.
Man Down on Dayton
Back at the station, the tone sounds again. Squad 1 responds to a man down on the corner of Dayton and Murray Streets, in front of UW-Madison’s SERF.
The man is extremely disoriented. After the subject is stabilized, he is turned over to police custody and searched. Drug paraphernalia is found on his person.
He is taken by a rescue vehicle to Meriter Hospital for examination.
“That whole incident pulled seven city personnel to handle,” Lindl says. “Its really a shame, and he was in pretty rough shape.”
1:20 a.m.
While we are driving home down State Street, the manager of State Street Brats rushes out on sight of the rig, calling for police assistance as patrons are hassling the establishments bouncers.
Lindl radios police from the rig as the suspects flee. Police soon report and Squad 1 heads for home.
“We can’t really do anything to intervene in that situation, only call the police,” Lindl says. “But it looked like one of them might have been going for a gun?”
2:18 a.m.
Nightly hassles…UW style
An alarm sounds on the third floor of 450 W. Gorham St. Engine 1 responds to the call, which turns out to be another false alarm.
Lt. Cerqua does not bother to exit the rig.
“This type of thing is routine, and it just keeps us up at night,” he says. “You have to be very responsive, but if people would be more careful it would save us a lot of time and energy.”
All members of the crew would later admit their biggest hassle, especially on weekend nights, is drunk and irresponsible students creating situations that demand their attention.
2:30 a.m.
HAZMAT call on a crowded State Street
The Orpheum Theater reports a bleach spill in the janitorial closet. Ladder 1 and Engine 1 respond, the substances are contained and the crew departs.
“They called up 911 to ask what should be done when they spilled some ammonia,” Cerqua says. “But we end up getting the HAZMAT call.”
2:58 a.m.
Alarm call in southeast dorms
A fire alarm is sounded on the 8th floor of Witte B. Engine 1 responds. We arrive at the scene and cut through a throng of tired and mildly intoxicated students, but no flames are found.
By this point in the night, the wear of a long day’s work is taking its toll on the crew. Response times begin to slow –each alarm wakes the firefighters from a sound sleep.
As we ride back to the station, Cerqua and the other firemen have one more problem to solve.
“Something stinks in here!” Cerqua says. “It’s been with us all night. We didn’t run over something, did we??is that dead fish? That’s gotta be dead fish!”
Upon arrival at the station, the rig is stripped and searched to reveal a large carp located underneath the passenger seat. This journalist tried desperately to keep a straight face.
“We’re gonna get those guys,” Hagen says with a sly grin as we retired to the bunks.
6:45 a.m
A wake-up alarm sounds as the rest of the night passed peacefully, a welcome surprise to Company B.
Company A is arriving just as we wake, already gathered around the table, sipping strong coffee. Chat centers around last night’s blaze.
“That was a rare one, boys,” says Firefighter Tom Calow. “We see something like that maybe once a month.”
Lindl is confident we had seen the crew at its best.
“That is what we work for,” he says. “The chance to help out. Everybody here, at some point in their career, has done something to save a life.”
At 7 a.m. sharp, an emergency dispatcher radios in.
The rookie responds: “Station 1, standing by” ? standing by, weeks, hours, minutes ? or seconds away from the next cries of distress.