Monday, December 11, 2006

This job is so risky, you gotta love it

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, memoirs, firefighters

There is a sad story in The Fireman's Wife, but that's only part of it. The sad story triggered the writing, but isn't the reason for the book. An author I read many years ago remarked, "Military officers marry the handsomest women." To my observation, so do all the hardest working public servants, particularly firemen. Susan Farren typifies the breed; more than pretty, a truly amazing woman, a former paramedic, way too competent to be "only" a stay-at-home mother of five.

She didn't intend to marry a fireman. Quite the opposite. Having been a paramedic for ten years, being on the front line of tragedy and disaster, rarely seeing the good outcomes of her good work...she wanted a tall, dark, handsome guy with a 9-5 job and money in the bank. The second time she saw Dan Farren, she fell in love, like a thunderbolt, with this short, blond, cheerful fireplug of a guy who would be a fireman or die trying. He was working as a paramedic at the time, and pining his heart out for a place in a firehouse. He'd been the rescue go-to guy for his friends since he could ride a trike, and it is all he ever wanted to do.

Dan didn't die trying. After applying for dozens, maybe a hundred slots, this incredibly talented, skilled fellow who was too white, too Irish, too everything that is politically disadvantaged these days, was hired into the probationary program in Petaluma, CA. Ten years later, he almost died anyway.

The book is the story, told warts and all, of the life of Susan and Dan, as the kids come—1, 2, 3, 4, 5—as this talented woman struggles with overwhelming childcare tasks and her talented man must spend half his "free time" working overtime for extra money. She learns the cameraderie of the men, and even more, of the firehouse families, who operate as an extended family.

She learns to live with worry about someone who runs in when others are running out; as he so frequently gets paged in the middle of every kind of outing; as one day her neighbor calls to say, "I got this number from your emergency numbers book." Her thought, "What is he doing in my house" is answered in mid-think by "Get over to the hospital. Dan's hurt."

All it took was a puff of smoke at the wrong time, and the man on the ladder with the big hose waved it the wrong way. Hit by a stream of water with the momentum of a truck, the ribs and other bones on Dan's left side were crushed as he was swept to the edge of the roof and caught there by his air pack.

Dan lived, but it took a year to recover. Susan hoped against hope that he'd have to retire from active duty. He would have none of it. In a near-miracle of mind over reluctant matter, Dan recovered, regained strength—his joy at the first "real push-up" is overwhelming—and returned to active duty.

Mrs. Farren is described as an inspirational speaker. Take it from me, she's certainly an inspirational writer.

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