What Distinguishes Firefighters
Capt. Bill Heins, at 25 years one of the senior veteran firefighters, explained how their professional lives differ from nearly everyone else’s. In Culver City, “we work ten 24-hour shifts a month, sometimes more, a lot of times more.” he said. “The thing that is unique for us, in our profession, is that we live together, 24 hours at a time. It’s not just like showing up, going to work and going home. We listen to each other’s problems. We share each other’s joy. We share each other’s pain. It’s truly a brotherhood. I know it sounds kind of…” Mr. Kurowski chimed in. “We know each other’s sleeping habits, their eating habits,” he said. “We know how they prepare themselves. We know how their work ethic evolves. You know them intimately because we are in such small quarters all the time. We are together for 24 hours, sometimes for four days or longer when we are on a brush fire. It is, without a doubt, a family evolution that takes place here. You become members of the same family.” What is the key to a group of professional adults necessarily getting along with each other when all of them have emerged from disparate backgrounds? “It truly is like any family,” Mr. Heins said. “We have good times, bad times. There are times when we don’t get along with each other. But, what ends up happening is, because we all have a common goal — to provide emergency services to the community, to make things better in people’s lives when they are at their worst — it’s that common goal that switches any negativity to positive.”
They Call It Pride
Firefighters also are driven to preserve the proud, rich legacy of the fire service, Mr. Kurowski said. “Let me tell you about that history. The very first day I came here, from the person in charge of making sure I knew where my pants were to the chief, they all said, ‘You have an obligation to get along. That is part of your job. Your job is to find common ground because the work we do is too important.’ That was from Day One. That history is something we do here. When you start, you are so happy to be here, to get this career that you think is so important, that you feel an obligation to provide part of the legacy. You don’t want to be the guy who drops the ball, who makes some kind of separation in the department, cliques or whatever. We know the system works. It has been around for a long time. It did not happen by accident. Because of that, we have an obligation. We get along because it is important.” Do firefighters ever go out on an emergency call when some of them are not speaking to each other? “When that happens,” Mr. Kurowski said, “professionalism steps up. It’s not often. When the bell rings, it usually is the problem-solver. You realize then why you are here. We are here because we made the commitment to serve. We are not going to be measured by whether we were right or wrong in an argument. We will be measured by the way we provide our service.”
The Role of the Fallen Comrade
Where did Mr. Baird fit into the mosaic in the often taken-for-granted Fire Dept.? “We are a small department,” replied Mr. Heins. “Our formal leaders, through the ranks, have the authority to lead. But we also have informal leaders who lead. Our culture and our department cultivate that. We encourage people to be informal leaders. Chuck was an informal leader. Chuck taught CPR classes, both to the public and to our department. He taught EMT (emergency medical training). He was the first one to get up when something needed doing, and usually he was the last one working. If you were to put a face to the definition of professional firefighter, that was Chuck. He always came in upbeat and positive. He was looking for the bright side of everything. Jorge was saying the other day, you don’t get a nickname like Chuckles without being a jovial, gregarious person. Of all of our guys, Chuck had a sense of humor.”
From Another Direction
Mr. Kurowski asked to have a certain weightlifting photo of the muscular, strapping, splendidly conditioned Mr. Baird flashed onto the computer screen. “He was a mountain of a man, the epitome of fitness,” Mr. Kurowski marveled. “He did this because of his obligation (as a firefighter). When I say he jumped in with both feet, when he said he was going to be a firefighter, he understood that meant physically, mentally, being completely prepared to provide the service. I used to tease him. I told him that when he worked out, nobody else could because he used up all the weights. He made you good, better. He set the bar on those kinds of things. And you would say, ‘That is where I need to be.’ That was because of the type of person he was. He also was this kind of person. If he did not completely agree with a formal leadership decision, he understood that the only way that decision had any chance was to get behind it 100 percent. He never had a sour thing to say. He would say, ‘If that’s what we’re doing, let’s give it 100 percent.’ Chuck was definitely a leader, even though he didn’t have rank.”
Postscript
As of this afternoon, funeral services still were pending for Mr. Baird. A firefighter/paramedic, he was a 12-year veteran of the department. He is survived by his wife Pam and their three sons, ranging in age from 24 to 14, Alex, Tom and Andrew.
