I knew there were things that my firefighter husband would keep from me. Things that would happen at work that he just wouldn't want to share or talk about. And it made sense. I thought that maybe some of the stuff he saw or had to deal with were tough on the mind and soul, and so I never ask or pry. I wait for him to open up and talk if he wants to.

His ability to open up took a very long time. He still doesn't always talk with me about certain work events, but I will gently ask about his day to give the opportunity to share with me and unload some of his burden.

Back in 2017, I was lucky enough to be invited to join him on his shift for a 12hour "ride-along" to see what it was like to be in his shoes for a day. Or really just half a day. I was so excited! I had always wanted to know what his day was like, and have a small idea of what he experienced at work, so that maybe I would be able to better communicate with him when he flipped his emotional switch after a rough shift. Because I was so ignorant and had no idea what a normal shift was, let alone a rough shift.

We were with station 1 for the day, all of the crew I had met before and they welcomed me into the station. They were in the middle of rig check and making sure their medic kits were fully stocked, ordering more supplies as needed.

The plan for the day was rig check and training, going over various fire scenarios and reading the fire situation from the exterior. That would all be completed between emergency calls, and shoveling snow to keep the doors and walkways clear during the shift.

Station 1 is one of the busiest stations with the department, and it definitely didn't let me down in that regard for my ride-along. We got the first call not long after I arrived at the station. Calls that day included a minor MVA (motor vehicle accident), a lift assist, and medical emergencies involving falls. We were going from one call to the next with not much time spent at the fire station.

The guys didn't really have much down time at all and we barely had time to get food before the tones would go off again. When not on a call, they were either charting, cleaning and prepping the rig, wrangling and adjusting the chains on the tires due to the snow, or training. It was go, go, go the whole day.

I was able to really see how rewarding their job was. Always working together as a team to maintain the station, their equipment, and most importantly helping their community and the members of their community. I have never seen such a devoted and caring group of men in an intimate setting such as this. I felt privileged to be allowed into their space and see what they do and how they do it.

One call during the day stuck with me the most. It showed me how dedicated these men are, but also how helpless they can feel when they leave the incident. That they can only do so much and will typically never know the long term outcomes of the people that they care for.

The call came in as a medical emergency: mother reported son became unresponsive over the phone and she could not get a hold of him. The mother was not living in the area. The son, a man in his mid 40s, lived in a ground floor apartment not far from the station.

When we arrived at the address, the guys were moving quickly, because it was not known whether the man had a heart attack or stroke and time was of the essence. The sliding door was locked and the lights were off, you could not see inside. The front door was also locked and no one was responding to knocks on the door or any other attempt to get attention of someone inside.

Since no one responded to the doors, and time was a major concern, they found an open window, through which one of the firemen crawled, keeping in mind there may be someone inside who could be startled or have a weapon such as a blunt object, knife or gun. He went through the window anyways and ran to unlock the front door.

We entered the apartment and I was instantly hit with the most horrible stench which hit me so hard I was gagging and trying my hardest not to be sick. The scene was disgusting, like something I have never seen before. Turning on the light in the hallway, we stepped across piles of animal feces, urine stains and trash littered the floor and the walls. A cat darted across the hallway and ran into an open closet filled floor to ceiling with everything imaginable. Blankets, toys, trash, animal cages, etc.

As we entered into the living room there was a coffee table covered in trash and crayons. Kids toys were stacked in a corner. The kitchen was littered with old and rotting food and the sink filled with dirty dishes.

The apartment was filled with a haze, the stench unbearable. The smell of feces, urine, spoiled food, and cigarettes was overpowering. After a few minutes my head was already hurting.

Apparently, talking with the guys after the incident, the conditions of the apartment were not bad compared to what they usually see. My jaw hit the floor.

Aside from the animals, the apartment was empty. The captain contacted dispatch again checking in, and getting more information. We needed to find the patient.

Walking back out towards the engine, a man approached us after pulling up in an old van. He wanted to know what we were doing in his apartment. We filled him in and he confirmed that that was his mother that had called but he couldn't find his phone.

As we are talking, the back door of the van opened and a cute little 4 year old girl stepped out. She was in filthy clothes and her hair was matted. She had bruises on her arms.

Talking with the dad, the fireman brought up that they wanted to check and make sure he was okay and that they wanted him to contact his mother and inform her that he was okay. He started looking for his phone in the van and couldn't find it.

Instantly, he whirled around and began yelling and blaming his daughter for his missing phone. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the car yelling and screaming that he was going to whoop her.

At that moment, every fireman looked like they grew at least a foot taller and surrounded the dad and little girl ready to intervene. The captain was able to de-escalate the situation and calm the dad down.

He eventually found his phone in the car, he contacted his mother, and we were able to leave the scene.

All of the guys were very concerned about the little girl, as was I. Her living conditions were terrible and it appeared that her father regularly beat her. But there was nothing that could be done on our end.

I asked if we could call CPS and report abuse or neglect, but there were technically no grounds upon which the firemen could do that. In addition, the foster system may be no better for this little girl and may only make things worse for her in this case.

It was so sad to see the living conditions she was in and the thought of her having to grow up in that kind of situation where there's nothing that we can do. It was hard to accept the feeling of helplessness, but we can only hope for the best for her, and for all of the other kids in the world that are living in similar or worse situations.

In the end, the day was easy for the guys, not much had happened and none of the events were serious or stressful. I thought otherwise, and it just goes to show how different their perspective is on life. I think having the opportunity to do a ride-along and walk in their shoes for a day helps me to understand a little bit more about what they are going through on a day to day basis. But, I know that I will never truly know what they go through, the best that I can do is get these little glimpses of life as a firefighter.

The ride-along with Station 1 was an experience I will always remember, and I hope that once COVID-19 restrictions are over, I can make it an annual goal to go on at least 1 ride-along to keep the experience of being in my husbands shoes fresh in my mind and to remind myself to accept the fact that I will never know about all that he might experience on shift.