Quotes, Poems, and Writings on the Fire Service
Most of these were written or spoken back when women firefighters were unknown, so keep in mind, as you read these, many firemen are actually firewomen. 

Date Unknown -
FIREMAN'S PRAYER
When I am called to duty, God
Wherever flames may rage
Give me the strength to save some life
Whatever be its age
Help me embrace a little child
Before it is too late
Or save an older person from
The horror of that fate
Enable me to be alert and
Hear the weakest shout
And quickly and efficiently
To put the fire out
I want to fill my calling and
To give the best in me
To guard my every neighbor
And protect their property
And if according to your will
I have to lose my life
Please bless with your protecting hand
My children and my wife
-- Author Unknown

Date Unknown -
FIREMAN'S SPOUSE'S PRAYER
The table's set, the meal's prepared, our guests will soon arrive,
My spouse once more disappears with a hope of keeping a child alive.
While waiting at home alone, our plans having gone awry
My first impulse is merely to sit right down and cry.
But soon again I realize the importance of my life
When I agreed to take on the duties of being a spouse in a firefighter's life.
While there are many drawbacks, I'll take them in my stride,
Knowing "My Daddy/Mommy saved a life" our children can say with pride.
The gusting winds and raging flames may be their final fate.
But with God's help I can remain my firefighter's faithful mate.
-- Author Unknown

Date Unknown -
WHAT IS A FIREMAN?
He's the guy next door - a mans 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 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 gentle 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 laught 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 mscle 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

Date Unknown -
WISH YOU COULD
See the sadness of a business man as his livelihood goes up in flames, or that family returning home, only too find their house and belongings damaged or lost for good.
Know what it is like too search a burning bedroom for trapped children, flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen below you burns.
Comprehend a wife's horror at 3a.m. as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done too try too save his life.
Know the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke-sensations that I've become too familiar with.
Understand how it feels to go to work in the morning after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple alarm fire.
Read my mind as I respond to a building fire "Is this a false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed?
What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to an EMS call, "What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?"
Be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying too save during the past 25 minutes - who will never go on her first date or say the words, "I love you Mommy" again.
Know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine or my personal vehicle, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic.
When you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"
Know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile. "What if this was my sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What were her parents reaction going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
Know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.
Feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of "It will never happen to me."
Realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
Know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.
Understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say.
Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You know all along he did not have his seat belt on. A sensation that I have become too familiar with.
Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means to us...
I wish you could though.
-- Author Unknown

Date Unknown -
^{GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN}
"Hey mom,!" He yelled from the attic door, "What's these old heavy boots and hard hat for?"
With a lump in her throat and a tear stained cheek, His mother swallowed and started to speak.
"Come here my son," his mother said, "There's things to tell when I clear my head."
The past raced madly through her mind; She searched her heart, the words to find.
At last she sighed and rubbed his hair, And the words that followed I'd like to share.
"Those boots and hat," she said with pride, "Were worn by a man with grit inside.
He wore them to help people in need, Though facing danger, would never concede.
Many a time in the dead of the night, He jumped in those boots and flashed out of sight.
To answer a call and not knowing for sure What danger or heartache he may have to endure.
Your father, my son, was not like most dads, It was mainly because of the job that he had.
His life was devoted to all of mankind, And just why he choose it, is not clear in my mind.
I've often regretted the life that we led, When every third night I was alone in our bed.
But your mother is proud to say she was a part Of a man who possessed such a courageous heart.
Though, for all his discomfort and all of his pain The time he spent here was never in vain.
So the memories I've kept and the love I will save Are small consolations for the life that he gave.
Your father's days here made other's seem brighter, For your father, my son, was a Firefighter."
^{-- James Price, Jefferson Parish Fire Department}

1798 May 9 -
"If our house be on fire, without inquiring whether it was fired from within or without, we must try to extinguish it."
-- Thomas Jefferson in a letter to James Lewis, Jr.

1850 -
"Whatever the American's are proud of - whatever they consider to be particularly good, useful, brilliant, or characteristic of themselves or their climate, they designate, half in jets, though scarcely half in earnest, as an 'institution.'   Thus the memory of George Washington ... is an institution; the Falls of Niagara are an institution; the Plymouth Rock, on which the Pilgrim Fathers first set foot, is an institution ...; 'Sweet Potatoes' are an institution, and Pumpkin pie is an institution; ... squash is an institution; Bunker Hill is an institution; and the firemen of New York are a great institution."
-- Life and Liberty in America by Charles Mackay

1850 -
"If Prometheus was worthy of the wrath of heaven for kindling the first fire upon earth, how ought all the gods honor the men who make it their professional business to put it out?"
-- John Godfrey Saxe

1878 February 9 -
ODE TO OUR FIREMEN
All honor to the red-clad heroes; the boys who ran the machine
Over the highway to rescue, quick to danger's scene;
Where angry flames devour the poor man's earthly store,
Bidding to all a defiance, with its wild and sullen roar,
Tell me not of the gallants who wear the helmets bright,
Who boast of their deeds of slaughter in some degrading fight;
But sould aloud the praises, and give the victor-crown
To our noble-hearted Firemen, who fear not danger's frown.
They of many a conflict, with the haughty demon of flame,
With the rising sun of the morning, their gallant deeds proclaim.
The signal that strikes terror, to them is known full well;
Forth to do and dare they spring at the tap of the bell.
Some one's home is falling in the midnight solemn hour;
Now the heroic legion spring forth to show their power.
Listen to the rumble, as they clatter over the way;
There's hope in the sound as they speed on
In determined and gallant array.
Soon the fiery days will he over; the machine will bo of the past,
And over the forms of our heroes the mantle of age will be cast,
And ere long they'll tread to the portals, and view the setting sun,
Then fall; arrayed in the glories of the gallant deeds they've done.
Grand honor! to such brave brothers; let the shout sweep to the sky.
Weave garlands round their memories as the ages swiftly fly,
Over each Fireman's hallowed grave write with honor's pen:
Here lieth one who delighted to aid his fellow men.
-- Frederic G W Fenn in The National Fireman's Journal

1879 October 18 -
"When fire is cried and danger is neigh, 'Godand the firemen' is the people's cry; But when 'tis out and all things are righted, God is forgotten and the firemen slighted."
-- The Fireman's Journal

1881 April 2 -
THE MARTYRED FIREMAN
Fold gently o'er his silent breast
The honored badge he wore in death,
And reverent lay to peaveful rest -
With tearful eyes and bated breath -
The hero who nor shrunk nor quailed
When bravest hearts from terror failed,
When "Backward!"  from the totter wall -
"Back for your lives!"  was cried by all.
But he nor feared, nor saw, nor heard,
He would not hear the backward word;
The path of duty lay before;
The fireman's badge he proudly wore
Would blush for shame if one should say
He shrank from danger.  "Clear the way!"
Up to the front the hero came
To battle face to face with flame.
One thought he gave to hearts at home,
And eyes that laughed to see him come;
But "Duty, duty!" was the cry -
'Twas duty now to do or die,
He dashed the unbidden tear away,
And foremost led the dangerous fray;
The high wall tottered all aflame:
Then, like an avalance, it came
Down thundering to the quaking ground,
And built the martyr's funeral mound.
A shriek of horror!  Like a flash
To work his brave companions dash;
With blistering hands they tear the pile -
Their hushed hearts beating low the while -
And soon with streaming eyes they bear
The martyr to the cool night air
Too late!  The fatal work is done!
His crown of fame is dearly won;
Crushed by the cruel wall he lies,
Stern duty's latest sacrifice.
The victim of the battle's strife
Lives in our hearts a second life;
But who the unarmed hero knows,
Who, like this fireman, graveward goes
Contented, in a peaceful sphere -
To live without reproach or fear,
To do all that becomes a man,
And fill the grand though humble plan
By Heaven ordained?  Shalt we forget
The hero whose bruised body yet
Seems quick with life?  Let banners wave
O'er martyrs in a warrior's grave;
Here needs no muffled drum nor crepe;
Our very hearts to-day we drape
With sorrow, and sit down to mourn
The hero who will ne'er return.
Lay him to rest; his work is o'er;
Nor sins nor sorrows vex him more;
He filled the Maker's grandest plan,
And when he died he died for man.
-- Frank J Ottarson in the Fireman's Journal

1908 February -
"Firemen are going to get killed.  When they join the department they face that fact.  When a man becomes a fireman his greatest act of bravery has been accomplished.  What he does after that is all in the line of work.  They were not thinking of getting killed when they went where death lurked.  They went there to put the fire out, and got killed.  Firefighters do not regard themselves as heroes because they do what the business requires."
-- Chief Edward F. Croker, FDNY, speaking upon the death of a deputy chief and four firefighters

1910 -
"I have no ambition in this world but one, and that is to be a firefighter.   The position may, in the eyes o some, appear to be a lowly one; but we who know the work which the firefighter has to do believe that it is a noble calling.  There is an adage which says that, 'Nothng can be destroyed except by fire.' We strive to preserve from destruction the wealth of the world which is the product of the industry of men, necessary for the comfort of both the rich and poor.  We are defenders from fires of the art which has beautified the world, the product of thegenius of men and the means of refinement of mankind.  But, above all; our proudest endeavor is to save lives of men - the work of God Himself.  Under the impulse of such thoughts, the nobility of the occupation thrills us and stimulates us to deeds of daring, even at the supreme sacrifice.   Such considerations may not strike the average mind, but they are sufficient to fill to the limit our ambition in life and to make us serve the general purpose of human society."
-- Chief Edward F. Croker, FDNY

1993 -
Harriet.  Harry-ette.  Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis.  Beautiful, bemused, bellicose butcher.  Un-trust . . . ing.  Un-know . . . ing.   Un-love . . . ed?  "He wants you back," he screamed into the night air like a firefighter going to a window that has no fire... except the passion of his heart.  I am lonely.  It's really hard.  This poem... sucks.
-- Charlie Mackenzie in So I Married an Axe Murderer

1997 -
My little girl looked startled
as a fire engine passed in haste,
And from my rear-view mirror,
I saw the expression on her face.
Her eyes were opened wide
filled with curiosity and fear.....
She said, "mommy, what is that big truck
with the loud noise that I hear?"
I explained that the "truck" carried
men and women who's only aim
was to help someone in danger
though they may not know his name.
She said, "mommy, aren't those the ones
who wear the shiny hats?"
And I said, "yes honey, that's right....
but it means much more than that."
Those people are trained and dedicated
and many times have shown....
that to save the life of someone else,
they'll often risk their own.
Then my other child joined in
with a bright inquisitive stare.
"If the people they help are strangers,
then what would make them care?"
Her question made me stop and think,
what are the rewards of being "brave?"
Is it the smiles on the faces
of the children they may save?
Or the beholden expression of a man
standing beside his wife
watching firefighters battling to save
the house he'd worked for all his life?
Or pulling someone out
of a burning house or car?
There's a memory like that for them
behind every burn or scar.
The word "courage" is described as:
the strength to withstand fear
and firefighters use that courage
many times in their career.
So, to answer her question honestly
and explain why they're so "daring,"
I said...."they're very special people
with an uncommon sense of caring."
-- Linda Ellis

2000 -
"I provide a faceless, nameless service to a community that rarely knows how much they need me.  If I am called from a sound sleep to scrifice my life, attempting to save the life or property of someone I do not know ... I will do so without regret."
-- Jon McDuffie from The Heart Behind the Hero