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Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Jace
FIRELIGHT SPILLED over the street, flashing lights captivating the onlookers who clustered nearby pier. When we reached it, the 195-foot crab fishing vessel had the fire contained in the galley two decks below the main.
My dad, our battalion chief, was set up as the commanding officer. He started in immediately with the details. “I spoke to someone from the ship’s crew who indicated there’s a crew on board. There’s five missing, but we’re not positive.”
Mike took note and gave Logan the details. “You five get in there and get as many as you can. And then get back out here.” He gave us a “no bullshit” look. “You got one shot at this.”
At times like this there was no bullshit. We knew our jobs and trusted in our training. We were focused on saving people.
We had just started toward the ship when Logan got on the radio. “Do you know their location?”
“Stand by . . . ”
“At a time like this” — Logan looked at me, confused — “he puts me on standby.”
“They’re in the galley.”
Logan looked at me and then Axe. “Let’s go, boys.”
Pulling our masks over our faces, we cranked the air.
It’s easy to lose perspective at times like that. You have to literally be ready for anything.
“Emergency personnel, please be advised that heavy fire was noted at the rear of the ship. Proceed with caution.”
We hadn’t gotten far on the boat, just stepped foot on the deck, before Denny crashed into Logan, panting. “Today is not my day, man.”
“Come on, man, get on your game,” Logan said, picking himself up.
The glow of the fire spread across the ship, engulfing everything in its path. Another engine company arrived, their steps meeting ours as heavy sheets of curling smoke rolled together, constricting our view and making it almost impossible to find anyone.
Just a few seconds on that boat, and we were nearly lost. Everywhere we looked there was another hallway and another door, but we continued down the one on the left as command said the galley was at the end of it.
Slogging through the water, we searched for anyone who was still alive, the glint of angry orange flames surrounding us above. “Seattle Fire Department . . . call out if you can!”
In fading light and thick smoke, we searched for the crew members we’d been told were trapped in the galley.
As we dropped to our knees when the smoke was too thick, the water flooding in felt like it was boiling with the heat. It was hot inside my mask, my face slick with sweat, and my palms and knees burned as I crawled along the ship’s deck. The heat, the intensity, embers floating, smoke drifting — we searched, and sure enough heard the screams for help in the galley. There were five crew members there. Logan and I brought out two each, while Denny grabbed one.
Axe and Kasey were right behind us and got the others, whom they found hiding in a bathroom. When we had those, a crew member told us there was two more still on the ship, so Logan and I went back.
“This ship is like a fucking maze,” I told Logan, who was in front of me. We were searching inside every door, calling out for anyone who could hear us.
Logan said something, but I couldn’t hear him. I doubted he’d even heard what I said, it was so loud.
We could hear the fire as it shifted, the heat getting more intense this time. The heat was almost unbearable as the flames rolled up the sides of the ship and to the ceiling, orange in the middle and purple at the edges.
We made the mistake of turning down another hallway and ended up in a room, filled with black smoke, but when we tried to go back, it didn’t seem like we were going the right way. Logan stopped, staring at me. “I think we go that way.”
It was like a guessing game. One neither of us wanted to be playing. We knew we were in trouble.
Our radios weren’t working that well and kept cutting out. Every time we’d tell them our location, it cut out and command never heard. Same situation for us. Had they been telling us to evacuate, we weren’t hearing it.
The fire was breathing, a low hiss that gave you that eerie feeling, knowing it was gaining strength. As we moved, it almost felt like it was slow motion.
Every fire was a lesson. Where would it go? When would it gain strength and school you on the dangers? Understanding the danger and knowing the risk was what we were trained for.
“We gotta get out of here man,” Logan said, sensing that the situation had turned on us. “Ladder 1 to command,” he said. “We’re lost two decks below the main deck in the galley.”
Behind us there was a pop, with a deafening bang of an explosion, and before I knew it I was underneath a large chunk of the ship.
It took me a minute; this was the second time in the past month that I’d had a building, or in this case a ship, collapse on me. My ears were ringing and my heart was beating so fast it was all I could hear as I picked myself up from the barrels that surrounded me. My hand immediately went to my head, which was throbbing. I realized then that my helmet was gone.
“Shit . . . I lost my halligan,” Logan groaned about ten feet from me, under a pile of debris and what looked to be fish guts. He looked down at it, disgusted but disoriented. “That’s gross.”
“I think I lost my helmet.” I blinked, trying to gain some bearings, but my head was throbbing. I could feel the blood pouring out of a cut above my eye. “And you smell even with this smoke.”
I couldn’t see clearly — the smoke was thicker now, black and heavy, but I knew we needed to move.
“I got you, buddy.” Logan wrapped his arm around my shoulders, assisting me as we pulled ourselves through the rubble.
Everywhere we looked now was engulfed in flames. We were trapped. My thoughts immediately went to Aubrey and the kids. Nothings worse than feeling like you’re about to die.
I couldn’t move my leg for a minute but managed to limp my way out of there. Logan seemed to be worse off and was holding his stomach. “You okay, brother?”
He swallowed, panting as his right arm caught himself against the wall. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want to throw me over your shoulder right now and carry me down a ladder?” I teased, trying to find some humor in the situation.
“Oh, yeah.” Logan laughed, still holding his side. Leaning his head back, he took in a deep breath. “I think we can get out over there. I looked at the ship’s plans before we came in.” He gestured behind us with a tip of his head. “There’s an opening behind those crates.”
“Logan, what’s your position?” The request came across crackled and broken up.
Logan, breathing short and quick, reached for his radio and leaned against a wall for support. “We’re in the galley.” He tried to take a breath and then winced, coiling into himself, his hands resting on his knees. “It’s collapsed around us, but we’re good. Coming out now.”
“10-4 . . . get out of there,” my dad ordered. “Evacuate now!”
I sometimes wonder if you know you’re going to die. Can you sense it?
Right then I thought that I could.
We heard another roar and knew it was a matter of seconds. We had to move, but Logan could barely walk. My leg and head were throbbing, but I knew then Logan was worse off.
“You gotta get moving, buddy. Don’t wait for me.” Logan was stone silent and breathing harshly as he watched me, waiting for what I would do. I felt my face crumble when he began to speak again, knowing what he was going to say. “I’m serious, Jace. Go! I’ll be right behind you.”
Part of me knew he wouldn’t, but there was no way Logan would have let me stay. He would have killed himself trying to get me out of there.
He nodded, trying to reassure me, sweat streaming down his blackened face under his mask. When I hadn’t moved, he said it again, this time sterner. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
I hesitated, desperately trying to
make the right decision, knowing we had one chance at this.
“I’m not leaving you.” I think that was when I woke up and realized how bad this was. “We need to go. Let’s just get out of here,” I said, grabbing hold of him. “It’s bad.”
The look of uncertainty in his eyes was something I’d never get over.
“Go!” he said, pushing me forward and steadying himself against the wall again as we moved slowly.
Before I could question him, or protest that we stay together, I heard the moaning behind me. There was a man at my feet under melting plastic grates. The plastic was on his skin, burning where the fire wasn’t. Beside him was another crew member.
We had to save them. We could save them.
“Can you stand, buddy?” I asked the one next to me. He nodded, and I helped him up.
Mike came on our radios, a jumble of static, and then we heard, “I want you all to get off that goddamn ship right now! Evacuate now!”
I knew Logan wasn’t listening. Not when we knew there were two people still trapped back there. His mindset seemed to shift.
“I’ll get this guy and you grab him. I’ll be fine.” He gave another nod. “Trust me. I’m grabbing him, and I’m right behind you.”
Logan helped the man near him up. He was still conscious, and Logan held him against his side. It was a weird feeling knowing that the guy was probably in better shape than Logan despite the smoke inhalation.
I trusted Logan. Like I said, if there was anyone I trusted in a fire, it was Logan. I follow and do anything he says. I also trusted him not to do something that would put his life in danger. Only now, we were both in danger.
I managed to get the other guy up, and holding him up with my arm and moving. Looking back once, I saw Logan struggling with the man he had, but he was at least moving.
I moved quickly, knowing we didn’t have time, and had just gotten the man onto the main deck and over the side of the pier when I turned around to go back to help Logan.
Ten feet from the ship, I heard the pop and then the explosion. I was once again thrown about twenty feet as the blast rocked through the boat, shaking everything around me.
I landed on the pier against pallets, Kasey and Axe rushing to me and covering me as pieces of the ship, wood and metal, crashed around us.
“Command to all units . . . evacuate ship immediately! All units, I repeat, all units evacuate!”
“Nooooo!” I rushed to my feet and toward the ship in a sprint, a limping sprint, actually. “Logan’s in there! We have to save him! We can save him!”
Kasey physically blocked me, tackling me to the ground, his hands fisting in my jacket, eyes hard. “You can’t! You can’t go back on there.” He knew Logan was still on that ship. “I will not lose my brother, too.”
Kasey held me to the ground and Axe got to his feet — apparently, he was right behind me — and held me in place as well as I struggled against both of them, shoving and kicking as I screamed for Logan All I saw was the plume of black smoke and the thunderous roar of the flames as they took over the ship.
“Somebody help him! Go! Don’t leave him. We don’t leave people!” I was screaming and crying, struggling with all I had.
Physically, after the first explosion I was in no shape to protest, but I did anyway.
“Trust me. I’m grabbing him, and I’m right behind you.” His words rang in my head, over and over again.
Oh, God, this can’t be happening. Please no. Don’t do this. Don’t be real. Let him be alive. Please just fucking be alive.
Anger gripped me. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. What would this do to Brooke? What would it do to Amelia? What would this do to me? Logan was a brother to me.
“Trust me. I’m grabbing him, and I’m right behind you.”
Kasey let up when he knew I wasn’t moving. I threw my SCMA aside and started shaking as I stared at the ship, now fully engulfed. Numbness took over, and all I could do was stare at the scene before me and at what had just happened. Firefighters on the pipe took over, scrambling to gain control at all angles so we could get back on there, but I knew. With flames like that and his exit blocked, he wasn’t coming off that ship alive.
I stood there for a moment, watching the flames pour through the wheelhouse and through the portholes, helpless, fighting back my tears as my buddy was trapped and dying.
He was gone. There was no way.
“Trust me. I’m grabbing him, and I’m right behind you.”
I couldn’t get it out of my head, and the harder I tried to control myself, the worse it got. Kasey and Axe noticed, watching me carefully, but they themselves were struggling. Any one of us would give our lives to get to him, but we couldn’t. I turned away from Axe, who was looking right at me with a blank face. It was pretty obvious what was happening to me. Or might happen in the next few minutes.
No hero tough-guy bullshit from me. I was bawling. With my hands covering my face, I broke down.
This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.
My dad came to me as I lay there on the wet pavement of the pier, patted my shoulder, and then gave me a minute alone. He stood there for a moment, shaking his head soberly, as if he couldn’t believe what had happened, and looked at Kasey walking away, his feet dragging as he carried his SCBA beside him.
I’ll never forget the look on his face when he told me to go. Never.
“Trust me. I’m grabbing him, and I’m right behind you.”
I WILL remember the silence at the pier when they removed Logan’s body from the ship four hours after the explosion, his lifeless body being carried by Axe and Kasey.
I will always remember that stillness I felt. Always.
As the fire faded, one by one the trucks returned to their firehouses and the police and fire marshals took over their investigation. I hadn’t moved from my spot next to those pallets until they brought his body out. Then I followed his body being carried into the ambulance. I tried to go in with Axe and Kasey on the ship when they went to get him, but they wouldn’t let me for fear I’d lose my head. They were probably right. My head was gone.
News helicopters hovered, reporters searched for a story, but for the firefighters here, we were stunned, unable to answer their intruding interrogations as to what happened.
Watching the ambulance pull away with no lights was sickening. Revolting.
The bile rose, and I vomited on the side of the truck as the tears and trauma took over.
It took me twenty minutes before I was able to stand again. The rest of the guys started overhauling, and my dad went back to the station to meet the chaplain.
“We’re heading back to the station. The other companies will finish up here,” Mike said, tipping his head toward the truck where Kasey and Axe were standing, both with their heads bowed.
In the distance I saw a figure crouched near the edge of the pier about fifty feet from me on the other side of Ladder 17.
It was Denny.
His head was lowered as he silently cried into his gloved hands, his helmet at his feet. Everywhere I looked there were firefighters and emergency personnel, but for the four guys on that truck with Logan, the world had stopped.
Dragging myself to my feet, I went to him, my feet slogging through inches of water, and though nothing was said, nothing needed to be said. We stared out at the ship in flames, tears in our eyes, hearts broken. We stood there reflecting on what we needed to do.
“Sorry,” he said, fumbling with his helmet at his feet. His forearm swept across his eyes.
I said nothing. I had no words.
We both got on the truck, and my eyes didn’t leave the seat beside me that my best friend for twenty years, my brother, had just occupied. And now he was gone. The entire street and pier was lined with cops and fire trucks, the lights all blurring together with my tears.
BACK AT the station, Mike addressed his crew.
“He’s gone,” Mike said, and we were all struck by a sudden silence but n
ot really comprehending he was gone. For good. He’d confirmed what we already knew, but it was still just as shocking to hear him say it. As if it was final.
Axe shuffled his feet, his upper body twisted, and he punched the side of the engine, no doubt breaking his hand.
Kasey and Denny looked at each other and then at me, waiting for my reaction.
That was when I started shaking.
“Do you need to sit down, man?” Kasey reached for me.
I felt sick. I felt absolutely disgusted with myself.
I hurt. The worst possible pain I’d ever felt.
Voices shouted around me, ordering others around . . . or me, maybe. Hovering shapes moved about, and lights shone in my eyes.
WE ALL have these subtle . . . sometimes not so subtle . . . reminders that we’re not invulnerable. This was one of them. I could have died today. Logan William Jennings died tonight. At thirty years old he was gone. Forever.
We all accept the fact that we’re going to die someday. Most of us do. And we learn this early on. But are you ever prepared for it? Are you prepared for your loved ones to die? Will you be able to handle it?
It was at times like this I wish I could describe everything I was feeling and the smell of burning insulation and the feeling you get when you see the walls collapse around you. I wish I could describe the sensation of the soot in your mouth and the sound the flames make as they envelop you, the intense heat, that eeriness when the fire shifts. But I can’t. Nothing would do it justice. Nothing does this justice. I wish I could describe the feeling of being with someone day in and day out, every meal eaten together, and trusting your life to them as you walk through fire.
But I can’t.
Do you know the tragedy I’ve seen?
There would always be images and memories of my job that I would have forever. Today was one of them.
Logan died a gallant hero. He died with his own brand of valor, just as he always knew he would. Logan once joked the only way he’d go out was in a fire doing what he loved. Saving lives.
He possessed a brand of valor I would never have.
Something Worth Saving Page 15