The Dream Ride

The Dream Ride

    I can’t begin to remember how many hours my buddies and I whiled away drinking cherry phosphates at Freddie’s soda fountain in the old Fordview drugstore forty five years ago.  It was an excellent place to spend the long lazy days of summer vacation from Henry Clay grade school. Spinning around on the stools with our short legs still several inches from the floor, we would complain about there being nothing to do. Many times, just when it seemed we would surely die from boredom, the alarm at the fire station next door would shatter the quietness with its frantic ringing.

   Like adults leaving work on a Friday evening, we tore out of the drugstore at break neck speed for the station. With any luck at all we would get there in time to see the firemen exhibit a wondrous blend of coordination, speed and agility as they scrambled to get on the truck.

  It was a site as impressive as a stealth bomber flying over head today when the American La-France pumper came blasting out of the fire house on to Independence Avenue with three men riding on the back hanging on for dear life as their Dalmatian “Sparky” ran along the top of the truck furiously barking.

  We always watched until the truck was completely out of site before slowly walking back to our melting drinks at the soda fountain. Everyone was in total agreement that we would all become firemen when we grew up or at the very least, take a ride in a fire truck some day. That day never came for any of us but I recently met a man that did turn his boyhood dream into reality many years later.

   Permanently etched in John Broski’s memory is the day he and his father left the family fence business in Leeds industrial district to head for home. But first, his dad wanted to show him something a few blocks away. The six year old boy couldn’t quite see over the dash board as they pulled into the parking lot but once he pushed open the heavy car door his eyes took in a site that he would never forget. A single bay fire station in all its glory stood just a few feet away. Like the Sirens sisters in Greek Mythology who lured sailors to their island with beautiful, captivating songs, the glistening red fire truck just inside the open door seem to have the same affect on him.

  To say that young John was impressed with what he saw in that small fire house was a gross under statement. He decided that very day to begin collecting fire department memorabilia. To his delight, a brand spanking new Doepke pumper truck was patiently waiting for him under the tree the very next Christmas to become the first of hundreds over the next fifty years of collecting.

   John and his charming wife Sue recently invited me out to their cozy home in Overland Park for a private tour. The swirling leaves of Autumn did very little to hide the 300 pound fire hydrant sitting on their porch as I pulled into the driveway. Above the hydrant in the exact colors of the Overland Park fire department trucks was the address of the house.

  A step through their door is a step back in time. Shelves in virtually every room strain under the weight of fire trucks I didn’t even know existed. Most of them are made from steel and are as shiny and beautiful as the day they were bought.

  A large assortment of hoses and nozzles old enough to vote shared one corner of the living room. I grabbed one of the nozzles and was quite surprise at how much it weighed. I can see why it takes several men to handle one with water rushing through it.

   Several Sparky the fire dogs helped Smoky the Bear keep an eye on me as I looked at everything from fire axes to Gamewell fire alarm pull boxes.

   I even watched an old home movie that John’s father took of him in 1956 showing the six year old playing with his first fire equipment. John’s uncle Fay Parrish who was a fire fighter at the Ford Claycomo plant showed him how to lace white shoestrings emulating fire hose in the back of his toy Doepke Pumper so it would flake out as he pulled it away from something like a table leg. I was amazed at how creative he was in the movie. The fire scene this young boy had set up was fantastic. It looked like a three alarm fire with trucks and emergency equipment every where. Shoe strings ran across the floor and up ladders to continue across kitchen chairs simulating roof tops.

   With such a passionate love for the fascinating world of fire fighting it only seems fitting that “Johnny the Fireman” as his father used to call him, take a ride on a fire truck after waiting nearly 50 years.

  That day came back in 2002 when his good friend and Overland Park fire fighter Trevor Miller asked him to come spend the entire day at fire station number 42.

  The morning was slow and uneventful. Everyone including the fire alarm got plenty of rest except John. This was the day he had been waiting for since he was a kid and he wasn’t about to sit around and watch television or read.

  After giving the station a good once over Trevor took him to the room where they keep the personal protective equipment. John was given the ok to try on anything he liked. It took a long time but he managed to put on a bunker pants, boots, coat, gloves, Nomex , hood, suspenders, helmet, mask, oxygen tank and air hoses.

  It wasn’t until he had all this gear on that he realized it was extremely heavy and hot.

  A good six hours into the shift the alarm finally went berserk. With the precision of a finely tuned watch, the men donned their gear and took the assigned positions on Quint 42. John’s heart beat a mile a minute as he slid onto the seat between two fire fighters.

   With the sirens blaring and a near deafening blast of the air horns the crew left the friendly confines of the fire house and began yet another mission. 

   This entire experience is so surreal John thought as he watched the trucks flashing red and blue lights reflect off the windows in store fronts along

95th street

. A quick glance at his comrade’s faces showed John that this was indeed serious business. All they knew was that they were headed for an accident scene involving two vehicles that would require their undivided attention. Focus and concentration would be part of their over all equipment as they grew closer to the accident. Each man wore headphones so Captain Wernicke could relay any new information that might come in.

  With a hiss of the air brakes, everyone jumped out of the truck and went to work. A halligan tool was used to pop the doors off one car. Hoods were opened and electrical cables cut to prevent a possible fire or deployment of the air bags. Once the situation was under control and safe, they stepped back so the paramedics could do their job. With the task completed it was time to head back to the firehouse where the equipment they used would be cleaned and checked so it would be ready for the next run.

   John couldn’t wait to get home so he could tell Sue about his exciting day. Every single detail, no matter how small would be retold several times over the next two hours. Sue had no interest in the fire department when they were married 15 years ago but now knows as much as John and shares his love and admiration for a service most of us take for granted.

  Overland Park is trying to start a fire department museum at the Deanna Rose Farmstead. If they succeed, the Broski’s wonderful collection may some day grace their shelves for all to see.