The Voice in the Late Night Fire Call
It was 3:48 am when the buzzing started. It was my fire pager vibrating its slow dance across the night table. Then came the voice, the unmistakable voice that drags you from a deep sleep.
Still woozy, you hear the dispatcher call you to respond to a fire alarm sounding at house somewhere you have never been.
Your first reaction is to focus on the words “alarm sounding” which requires all your dedication to get up. Fire alarms in houses and commercial buildings account for nearly all of false alarms.
At 3:48 am, your brain tries to convince you to go back to sleep. You can’t help but think this is probably another false alarm, after all, nine out of ten usually are. But your conscience kicks in and you hear that voice say, “What if this is that one in ten? What if this is really somebody’s house on fire?”
Conscience wins, you get dressed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and you wobble to your car and respond to the call.
First on the scene, you find the house up a long driveway off the old country road. There are faint lights but no sign of fire. Behind you the sound of sirens grow from the rapidly approaching fire trucks.
As you get closer, you smell smoke and your heart begins to race. You review the scene quickly looking for signs of danger, then approach the house.
Is there anybody there? There is a car, so somebody could be inside. Are they aware of smoke or has smoke already held them captive.
You shine a light in a window and suddenly a voice calls out, a voice that is more shocked by your presence than any concern for a fire.
You respond, “It’s the fire department, your alarm went off. Are you OK?” A quiet but confused voice says, “Yes… the fire department… my alarm?”
It is only then that you realize you are speaking to each other through an opened but screened window. The smoke you sensed is now much stronger but it is now easily identified as burned food. You ask, “Did you have a fire on the stove?” The quiet voice says “Yes.”
“Is everything OK now?” The voice offers another “Yes,” and you close the conversation with “OK, good night!”
It’s now 4:10 am and you head home. Two fire trucks and four personal vehicles make an about face to head home.
Your body wants to go back to bed but your system is full of adrenalin and the thought of sleep is hopeful at best.
Just another false alarm, maybe you should have ignored it after all. But the firefighter in you says that’s not your call. It could have been that one in ten. It could have been that voice’s house on fire, and just maybe you would have been deprived that early morning conversation.
Yes, it was another false alarm, another out of bed rush to serve a voice of somebody you may never know.
This is not fiction but an account of a fire call last night in Pugwash. You thank God for the voice that lives. Such is the life of a volunteer firefighter.