I'm a "newshound!" There, I've said it. I have watched both local and national news ever since I was a little kid. And for the majority of this time, in all the places I've lived in the U.S., it has almost always been NBC News. Why? I'm not quite sure. I believe it's because that's how my parents raised my two brothers and me. After dinner each night, we would sit down to watch the local (Boston) news (when it was still just 30 minutes!) followed by NBC Nightly News anchored by Chet Huntley and David Brinkley. NO!! This post is not about Brian Williams/Lester Holt, etc. This paragraph is just to set my background.
This week, I did something with the news that I've never been interested in doing before, for a stories based in our country. I consciously watched the news to see nothing. To see the absence of the news that should have been aired.
Earlier this week, we lost two, brave LEO's (Law Enforcement Officers). We didn't lose them, rather both were murdered. Cincinnati Police Officer Sonny Kim was shot and killed upon arrival to a call. Just a few days later, New Orleans Police Officer Holloway was shot and killed by a captive, who had been handcuffed behind his back and secured in the back seat.Now, in the several weeks prior to these two deaths, there were several deaths of citizens by police officers in several different situations.
So, this week, I monitored the newscasts to see the difference in how they are covered and reported to the public. This post is not to judge the police officers who fired their weapons and whether or not they were justified. This post is to judge the disparity in how these two, very-closely related stories are reported by network news.
Each time in the last few months that a citizen died at the hands of the police, a hue and a cry erupted. Most, if not all of the dead were African-Americans. Most, but not all of the police officers involved were Caucasian. Immediately, a gigantic wedge of racial strife split communities and the country. Demonstrations, some peaceful, some not, occurred. As both the network anchors and the on-location reporters presented their stories, instead of remaining local stories, they were suddenly blown up into national and international events.
Yet, this past week, the deaths of Officers Kim and Holloway barely earned a mention on the national news. Let's not forget that Officer Kim was an Asian-American and Office Holloway was an African-American. And they didn't lose their lives in traffic accidents or in an attempt to save someone from a dangerous situation. They died doing what they had sworn and loved to do. Nevertheless, they barely earned a mention on the news.
Should not the very same African-American citizens of New Orleans and the rest of our country have stood up and shouted for justice for Holloway's death? Should not the vocal and famous leaders of this section of the populace have flown immediately to New Orleans to be with Officer Holloway's family and colleagues and lend them emotional support? Where were the rest of America's non-law enforcement, non-firefighting,non-EMS leaders, to speak about how man officers are losing their lives almost every week in this country?
And what of Officer Kim? Where was the outrage and his murder? Where was the national attention and support for his family and the Cincinnati Police Department, and the City of Cincinnati, which had just lost a firefighter in a Line of Duty Death a couple of months ago? A quick perusal online shows that there are even a smaller percentage of Asian-American police officers than African-American. Yet, isn't each man and woman, Asian-American, African-American, Caucasian, Native-American or whatever, worth the same as any other human being?
We were all terribly hurt by this week's hateful and racist shooting and murders in Charleston SC. Nine innocent people, doing nothing more than studying the Bible, were shot down and murdered, not because of something they did, but because of who they were! And there is no doubt that this incident is a national tragedy. But so is the death of anyone who willingly puts their life on the line to protect the rest of us. Look at the honor and respect we give our men and women in the armed forces. Even though it has increased since the post-Vietnam days, it still does not measure up to be on a par with what they do for us!
There is an old adage that says that, "One bad apple can spoil thew whole barrel!" Really? Still today? If you read or watch any news whatsoever, we know that every occupation has people that make mistakes (to be polite). In this week's firefighting news, a volunteer firefighter was sentenced for arson! Yes, for starting an incident that normally, he would respond to mitigate. And yes, there are police officers who make poor choices, who are racist, who are burnt-out. There are unprofessional doctors, business people, bank officials, elected officials and many, many more. We know that. We don't like it, but we know it happens. And we do try to hold a great many of these people to a higher standard because of the very positions they hold. Yet, whether we like it or not, we are all human and thus, subject to error. Did not the Lord in Heaven believe He had erred and regretted creating humanity, which led to the Noah story?
Look around your home, your office and somewhere, either tucked away in a drawer or lying out on the counter or desk, you'll see a pencil. Take a good long look at that pencil. Besides its probably yellow color and its graphite (no, not lead) tip, look what else it has the very, very few other writing instruments do. It has an eraser. Now I ask you, "Why?" Why do most pencils have an eraser?
That's a question each of you must answer for yourself.
Till next time, Stay Safe!
Showing posts with label #Police. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Police. Show all posts
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Sunday, June 7, 2015
The Trauma of Trauma
If you've been reading this blog for a while now, you know that although most of it is dedicated to our efforts to launch our TV program about the fire service, from time-to-time, I also address major issues that are faced by fire-rescue personnel (as well as police and EMT's/Paramedics).
On this quiet, early summer Sunday morning, an important tweet arrived on my phone. It was an excellent article by the "Gainesville Sun" newspaper in Gainesville, FL. Now, as it happens, one of the partners in Dalmatian Productions and by far, my best friend (other than my wife) for the past 38 years, serves the as the Chief Pilot for the Alachua County Sheriff's Office. While he doesn't fly medical calls, we responded to some of our first serious trauma calls as rookies in a combination department near Greensboro NC.
In the article is relates how the same Alachua County Fire-Rescue squad team responded to two horrific MVC's this past week, just several days apart. This is coincidental due to the fact that ACFD firefighters work a 24/48 shift; which is 24 hours on duty, followed by 48 hours off. Thus, the first of these crashes occurred on Monday and the second, on Thursday, when they had returned after Monday's work.
All too often, people see fire-rescue personnel as big, gruff, impersonal "heroes," who don't have emotions. However, this couldn't be further from the truth. I have never met a fellow firefighter who didn't have emotions; who wasn't happy after a saving a life or saving someone's home, as well as sad and hurting after losing a patient or victim. Just look at some of the perceived toughest firefighters in the world in the FDNY, the Fire Department of New York, and watch the news footage that followed the horrors of 9-11.
Back when Rich and I were rookies in NC (though he had some experience riding along with XXX), we were all gung-ho, just like most rookies. It's one thing to put out a fire in a small shed or knock down a truck fire on the interstate. However, when you respond to a hard-impact vehicle collision with traumatic injuries or that has entrapped a deceased occupant, the wind comes out of your sails very quickly!
At first, the adrenaline, which started pumping while the dispatcher is still announcing the call and pumps up even more as your apparatus sails down the streets and highways with red lights spinning and sirens screaming, keeps you going. You may pause for a moment or two to get instructions from your OIC (Officer-in-Charge), assess the situation or grab tools or equipment. However, once your task is done, the patients/victims are removed from the scene and you've begun to clean-up, the adrenaline drains from your system and the reality of what you've just seen and done creeps over you or may hit you full-force! You re-live every movement, every action. Your mind's eye replays the footage as if you're watching it on best and largest HD TV ever made. And the bile starts to crawl up your esophagus.
One late Saturday night, Rich and I and our driver, responded to an MVC with an overturned pickup on fire and the driver trapped. It was probably only a mile from the station, but the chief was screaming for us to get there because of the trapped occupant. We arrived within a couple of minutes and had water flowing within another 30-45 seconds. More firefighters showed up to hook us to a hydrant and another drove our tanker to the scene.
When we first started knocking down the fire, we could still hear the occupant calling for help. And while I strengthened my stance and held the hose as well as I could while Rich was on the nozzle, my heart was tearing apart. In just another few seconds, he had slipped into unconsciousness and we knocked the fire down enough for our colleagues and the EMS crew to access our patient. We stood there, in the same position, ready with more water. When they removed him and placed him on the gurney, we used our hose to wet down the sheets that covered his badly burned body. When he was finally removed from the scene, we picked up, but in a fashion we never had before. It was like we were moving in slow motion. And the stench of burning flesh covered us.
When we returned to the station, we cleaned the hoses and the truck. When we were done, I hightailed it to the men's locker room and promptly puked my guts up. I tore my turn-out coat off, and stripped off my bunker pants. Every inhaled breath flooded my lungs with the odor of our victim and his burnt flesh. As I came out of the locker room, our driver that night, one of the paid firefighters came up to me. "Is this your first 'roast?'" he asked. I nodded in return. "You'll get over it," he said. "Just suck it up."
This incident occurred in 1978, two years before the term, "PTSD" was recognized by the American Psychiatric Association and then, it was applied to veterans. It wasn't until an American Airlines DC-10 crashed on take-off from Chicago's O'hares Airport in 1985, striking several building and a trailer park, did some realize that first responders who can see death and destruction every day, might suffer from this psychological/psychiatric disability as well.
Since then, many communities have brought in specialists to work with first responders after major traumatic events. And over the years, we have all come to realize that one or two days of talking it over is not going to solve the problem either. Again, we turn to our brothers of the FDNY who worked the piles at the former World Trade Center, in fervent attempts to find survivors, then remnants of victims to bring closure to as many families as possible. And even though they didn't fight flames or perform staircase rescues, many, still today, suffer from horrible effects of PTSD and have been debilitated by them.
It's time that the public understands, (and we must as well) that first responders are not the same as the super heroes of comics, movies and television. We hurt, we suffer and yes, sometimes we cry, when we see the events we are sworn and dedicated to mitigate.
On this quiet, early summer Sunday morning, an important tweet arrived on my phone. It was an excellent article by the "Gainesville Sun" newspaper in Gainesville, FL. Now, as it happens, one of the partners in Dalmatian Productions and by far, my best friend (other than my wife) for the past 38 years, serves the as the Chief Pilot for the Alachua County Sheriff's Office. While he doesn't fly medical calls, we responded to some of our first serious trauma calls as rookies in a combination department near Greensboro NC.
In the article is relates how the same Alachua County Fire-Rescue squad team responded to two horrific MVC's this past week, just several days apart. This is coincidental due to the fact that ACFD firefighters work a 24/48 shift; which is 24 hours on duty, followed by 48 hours off. Thus, the first of these crashes occurred on Monday and the second, on Thursday, when they had returned after Monday's work.
All too often, people see fire-rescue personnel as big, gruff, impersonal "heroes," who don't have emotions. However, this couldn't be further from the truth. I have never met a fellow firefighter who didn't have emotions; who wasn't happy after a saving a life or saving someone's home, as well as sad and hurting after losing a patient or victim. Just look at some of the perceived toughest firefighters in the world in the FDNY, the Fire Department of New York, and watch the news footage that followed the horrors of 9-11.
Back when Rich and I were rookies in NC (though he had some experience riding along with XXX), we were all gung-ho, just like most rookies. It's one thing to put out a fire in a small shed or knock down a truck fire on the interstate. However, when you respond to a hard-impact vehicle collision with traumatic injuries or that has entrapped a deceased occupant, the wind comes out of your sails very quickly!
At first, the adrenaline, which started pumping while the dispatcher is still announcing the call and pumps up even more as your apparatus sails down the streets and highways with red lights spinning and sirens screaming, keeps you going. You may pause for a moment or two to get instructions from your OIC (Officer-in-Charge), assess the situation or grab tools or equipment. However, once your task is done, the patients/victims are removed from the scene and you've begun to clean-up, the adrenaline drains from your system and the reality of what you've just seen and done creeps over you or may hit you full-force! You re-live every movement, every action. Your mind's eye replays the footage as if you're watching it on best and largest HD TV ever made. And the bile starts to crawl up your esophagus.
One late Saturday night, Rich and I and our driver, responded to an MVC with an overturned pickup on fire and the driver trapped. It was probably only a mile from the station, but the chief was screaming for us to get there because of the trapped occupant. We arrived within a couple of minutes and had water flowing within another 30-45 seconds. More firefighters showed up to hook us to a hydrant and another drove our tanker to the scene.
When we first started knocking down the fire, we could still hear the occupant calling for help. And while I strengthened my stance and held the hose as well as I could while Rich was on the nozzle, my heart was tearing apart. In just another few seconds, he had slipped into unconsciousness and we knocked the fire down enough for our colleagues and the EMS crew to access our patient. We stood there, in the same position, ready with more water. When they removed him and placed him on the gurney, we used our hose to wet down the sheets that covered his badly burned body. When he was finally removed from the scene, we picked up, but in a fashion we never had before. It was like we were moving in slow motion. And the stench of burning flesh covered us.
When we returned to the station, we cleaned the hoses and the truck. When we were done, I hightailed it to the men's locker room and promptly puked my guts up. I tore my turn-out coat off, and stripped off my bunker pants. Every inhaled breath flooded my lungs with the odor of our victim and his burnt flesh. As I came out of the locker room, our driver that night, one of the paid firefighters came up to me. "Is this your first 'roast?'" he asked. I nodded in return. "You'll get over it," he said. "Just suck it up."
This incident occurred in 1978, two years before the term, "PTSD" was recognized by the American Psychiatric Association and then, it was applied to veterans. It wasn't until an American Airlines DC-10 crashed on take-off from Chicago's O'hares Airport in 1985, striking several building and a trailer park, did some realize that first responders who can see death and destruction every day, might suffer from this psychological/psychiatric disability as well.
Since then, many communities have brought in specialists to work with first responders after major traumatic events. And over the years, we have all come to realize that one or two days of talking it over is not going to solve the problem either. Again, we turn to our brothers of the FDNY who worked the piles at the former World Trade Center, in fervent attempts to find survivors, then remnants of victims to bring closure to as many families as possible. And even though they didn't fight flames or perform staircase rescues, many, still today, suffer from horrible effects of PTSD and have been debilitated by them.
It's time that the public understands, (and we must as well) that first responders are not the same as the super heroes of comics, movies and television. We hurt, we suffer and yes, sometimes we cry, when we see the events we are sworn and dedicated to mitigate.
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