Brotherhood: Our Fire Family
I’m a firm believer that some of the greatest people can be found in firehouses across the world. The connection that firefighters feel with each other is commonly referred to as the bond of brotherhood. The term might sound a bit elitist, as though only a select few are allowed inside the inner circle, but that view is far from the truth. Granted, I’m no firefighting expert, but I’ve had plenty of experience at being a fireman’s wife. It is from this unique perspective that I see the bond. I grasp the concept of brotherhood. I feel the family ties that bind my husband to the other firefighters and me to their spouses and my girls to their children.
“Brothers” or “brotherhood” is a somewhat sacred yet selfless term among the firefighting community. It does not exclude anyone for gender, race, color, or lifestyle. Firefighter ranks, retirements, previous professions, or secondary professions are not even factored into the ties of brotherhood. The basic requirement is that you are, or have been, a firefighter.
I was once jealous of this brotherhood even though I tried not to be. I hid the fact that I had any ill feelings because I’m simply not a jealous person. Still, I used to take it too much to heart that my husband had a strong bond with all these other adults at work, while I was left at home, alone, to finish college, do the chores, raise the kids, and earn money on the side to keep our family afloat. I say “used to” because my jealousy has been replaced with a grateful respect for the brotherhood.
Before I understood what brotherhood meant, I was dragged to this department and this town against my will. I reluctantly followed my fireman here because he absolutely loved this department as a volunteer. Now, even at the most difficult financial times, I refuse to entertain the thought of leaving. The men and women my husband works with are like brothers and sisters to me too and they are uncles and aunts to our girls. We go to the firehouse and have dinner with them. We hear about their lives. We meet their spouses, attend their weddings, play with their children, visit them at the hospital, stand by them at funerals, even vacation together and split the costs.
Every birthday party we’ve had, firefighters have always come and brought gifts, even if they didn’t have children of their own. When the only shower in our house broke, one of the guys came and fixed it for me while Tradd was on shift. When we discovered that the previous homeowner used a fast-food bag as electrical insulation for some exposed wires, a lieutenant offered to re-wire our house. When our roof leaked, a captain came over to help patch and re-shingle and even brought all the supplies from the stash he had for remodeling his own house.
My sense of the brotherhood extends beyond the firefighters to their wives, or husbands, their children and even the office and maintenance staff. I’ve called the Captain’s wife to come over in the middle of the night and watch our girls while Tradd was working and I took our other daughter to the ER with a burning fever. Our department’s secretary has gotten out of bed early on her Saturday morning to stand alongside us, cheering on our daughter during her soccer game. These simple acts draw them ever closer as part of our family.
At work, I know Tradd is watching out for his brothers. I’m comforted knowing that they are doing the same for him, no matter whether their helmets say Chief, Captain, Lieutenant, or simply Firefighter. His professional choice came when he chose this department to be the best fit for him and our family. Away from work, Tradd has a choice. As a family, we have a choice. In our town and at our department, we choose life in the brotherhood…in our Burton Fire family.