The old Jefferies Building was ablaze, flames shooting high above its three-story frame. It stood on the edge of the lake, and the reflection in the dark water at night was eerie and frightening. The glow from the inferno illuminated the surrounding grounds making it seem like daylight as the firefighters scrambled to battle the blaze.
Captain Miller stood in front of Engine 210 staring at the Inferno that had engulfed the southwest corner of the Old Jefferies Building. “All units report in,” he said into the radio on his shoulder.
“Attack 1, we’re on the first floor have confirmed fire near the A-B corner,” a voice crackled from the radio.
“Rescue Team 1 exiting from the second floor with two P.I.s, advise medical,” came another response.
“Rescue Team 2, we’re approaching the C-D corner on floor one, continuing search,” was the final transmission.
Captain Miller turned towards the ambulance crew waiting nearby, “I got two coming out the main entrance, probably gonna need O2.” As more trucks arrived, Captain Miller continued to shout orders, “Have the 2-6 take the A side and protect that exposure. Get me an ETA on additional medic units. Have 7-1 prep their Ritt team, so 54 can stand down.”
He was calm, even though the urgency in his speech was apparent. He knew his men; he knew his neighboring stations; and they knew their jobs. So long as they worked together, this was something they could handle. The older trucks that were arriving reminded him of how far things had come since he first set foot in a fire house.
Wayne Miller had been doing this all his life it seemed. When he was twelve, his father took him to the firehouse for the first time. Back then, the department was much smaller, working out of a small 60 by 80-foot garage basically. The department was all volunteer and had two engines: Engine 210, which was a 1969 Ford front end pumper with a 750-gallon tank, and Engine 211, a 1983 American Lafrance Cab-over with a 1000-gallon tank. The two old trucks required a lot of maintenance, and he spent many Saturdays at the station with his father and the other firefighters working on the trucks. When they weren’t working on the trucks, the chief at the time would do things like challenge him to roll hose faster or race him across the hose bed of Engine 211.
In those days, his father wouldn’t let him near a charged line, but he let him learn how to work the pump. He taught him how to throttle the engine and what valves started to move the water properly through the pump. His father taught him about friction loss and water hammer and the effects it had not just on the truck but on the firefighters at the end of the line.
By sixteen, Wayne was officially considered a junior firefighter and had his own gear and helmet. His father was now the safety captain, and though he didn’t allow Wayne to fight fire, he did let him train with the other firefighters. He could hoist a ladder and tie a bowline; he could name all of the tools on the truck and knew their purpose. He would often invite his best friend to join him, but the offer was always turned down.
When he was eighteen, Wayne had a huge falling out with his father. He moved to Myrtle Beach for a few months and worked on the strip as a security guard. Meanwhile, his best friend Frankie joined the Marine Corps, and he left for Parris Island. It took three months before Wayne decided to come home, and his father welcomed him with open arms. Wayne went to school and started working for an electrician. But the fire department called to him, and it wasn’t long before he made his way to the academy.
Captain Miller was directing external support operations when Lt. Mellon ran to him from the building, bringing him out of his trip down memory lane. “Cap, she’s breathing from the sides,” he yelled as he pointed to the building on fire, “I think she’s about to go.”
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As he looked, he saw smoke leaking from the walls on the A-B corner of the building, and he heard creaking and snapping, now coming from the structure. He knew there was no saving the building any longer, and it could collapse at any time.
He grabbed the nearest radio.” Emergency Traffic, all crews evacuate now. I repeat, evacuate now.” he shouted into the radio, then turned, “Sound evacuation, pull the teams back, and get me a count.” Lt. Mellon jumped into the cab of a nearby engine and laid on the air horn. Other apparatus joined in, sounding their sirens and air horns for a full minute, as firefighters scrambled from the building. They all knew the universal signal to drop everything and go meant they were in danger.
For a moment Wayne was reminded of his class A burn back at the academy. He was leading the primary rescue team into the building performing a right-side search while the attack team proceeded to the base of the fire. After searching several rooms, they found a stairway leading upstairs and could hear an alarm going off from a personal alert safety system or P.A.S.S device, Wayne proceeded to the top of the stair where they found their victim lying and called for his team. They grabbed her and began to carry when the ladder team opened a side window not far from them and began to make entry, not wanting to waste time Wayne took the patient to them to extricate her and led his team to continue their search.
When they came out Wayne was proud of how they performed, the lead instructor was not. Wayne’s team had been instructed to perform a search one floor one, by leaving the first floor they put themselves in danger because command wouldn’t know to search the second floor for them. It was the first time Wayne had heard the term freelancing, performing actions outside of commands ordered, and after the thorough dressing down it was something, he would never forget. He had three more runs that day, as the attack team, rapid intervention team and ladder team, so he followed orders perfectly for them. On that day he realized the importance of working as a team and the chain of command a lesson that stuck with him his whole career.
Wayne began going to the different commanders to confirm they had gotten everyone out, he was on his way to his engine when it happened. The sound was deafening as the Corner closest to the seat of the fire collapsed into the building. The dust cloud billowed out towards him, and he shielded his face for a moment before viewing what was left. The corner the attack team was working in was down to a single story, flames now barely visible as the debris had partially smothered them, on the opposite side of the building the second and third floors had partially survived. From his position Wayne wasn’t sure how much of the first floor could possibly still exist, there was no hope of any further internal operations from the looks of it.
He approached his crew prepared to start issuing orders when he noticed someone was missing, “Where’s Frank and Lee?” he asked Mellon. Mellon’s was staring at the building silent, and it was then Wayne realized what that meant, somewhere inside the remains of that building were two firefighters who had trusted him to get them home safe. He thought of every possible scenario he could remember his mind going a mile a minute. Someone had to go in and get them out.
The captain took a single deep breath, the world around him slowed as he processed what he needed to do next. He closed his eyes and pictured the layout of the building from the preplanning they had done, and tried to place where his firefighters might have been heading and what they could be nearby. He opened his eyes and grabbed a set of some of the heavy extrication tools.
“Mellon, we’re going around back to try and access that side of the building from the emergency corridor,” his eyes focused on the far corner where he knew and emergency exit was, “take over command of operations here and send me a second crew back there with a K12 and air tool in case we gotta cut the concrete.”
The Lieutenant nodded proceed towards the main engine and Captain Miller and the rest of their crew proceeded to the back of the structure. The side of the building here looked intact from the outside, but Wayne knew from experience that it didn't mean the inside was in the same shape. As he arrived at the emergency door another firefighter rushed forward with a Kelly bar and began to pry the door open.
It took only a few minutes to open the door, inside was dark and cloudy with dust and smoke. The plans of the building showed this corridor ran the length of this side of the building and with only a few doors along it leading into the building proper.
“Mask up people, we only got one shot.” he shouted before running into the black expanse.
