where there's smoke...
by nancy tabel

Recently a young woman who is interested in becoming a firefighter asked me what had created my own desire to become a one. At the time I responded that it was the combination of a heartfelt desire to help others in the community as well as the physical, emotional and mental challenges involved in being a firefighter. But what I hadn’t shared with her was a life-changing experience that planted the seed much earlier on but that would remain dormant for almost twenty five years.

In the summer of 1964 I was ten years old, living in Whitefish Bay, Wisconsin, a middle class bedroom community on the lake outside Milwaukee. Normally the humid, hazy idyllic days of summer were spent playing softball, swimming in Lake Michigan, and enjoying neighborhood block parties with German brats on the grill and trash cans full of bottles of soda pop and Hamm’s beer on ice. A group of the neighborhood boys and girls had ridden our bikes to the lake and spent the afternoon swimming to cool off from the July heat. On the way home along Lake Shore Drive we heard the distant wail of sirens then realized that they were approaching. With the fever of ten year old excitement and anticipation we waited while the sirens call approached. In just a few seconds we could see the fire engine and ladder truck rounding the curve toward us. As they roared by us we could smell the diesel exhaust, the hair stood up on our necks, and the pavement shook beneath us. Collectively we let out a war cry ”Let’s go!”

Even though we couldn’t keep up with them it wasn’t hard to see that they were headed toward the black and grey plume of smoke rising ominously in the afternoon sky. By the time we arrived the crew was already pulling hoseline off the back of the engine, through the yard and up to the front door while another firefighter was running down the street with a larger hoseline toward the fire hydrant. These were big, burly men wearing black rubber boots up to their hips, long black rubber coats with shiny silver buckles, and black ribbed helmets with emblems on the front. They were moving fast and shouting with emergent intensity. The air was statically charged with adrenalin and danger. I watched with ten year old awe as the rear window exploded in shards of jagged glass followed by a heavy billow of dense smoke then an angry orange red ball of flame shot from the opening; like a mythical dragon breathing smoke and flame only this was a real monster and the firefighters were the dragon slayers. Through the crackling of the fire and the rumble of the pump engine came more shouting and the sense of urgency ratcheted up. In a moment the first firefighter opened the front door and two more disappeared into the house with a hoseline; enveloped in a dark grey blanket of smoke. An acrid smell filled the air and you could feel the heat on your skin. I watched in a mixture of wonderment and horror. Would they ever come out alive again? In a few moments there was a huge billow of dark grey smoke and the orange red flame was gone. Just that fast they had knocked down the fire and vanquished the dragon. “Wow! Look at that!” I exclaimed.

Gradually the smoke subsided and the firefighters came out red-faced, blackened with soot, with a mixture of sweat and soot dripping off in rivulets. Another crew went in carrying the hoseline and an assortment of tools. It was kind of like passing the baton in a relay race at school, but this wasn’t a school yard game. “Okay kids, show’s over” ordered the patrol cop from behind us. It felt a little like getting caught looking under the tent at the carnival side show—but we’d seen the best part already.

Reluctantly we headed down the street toward home as we followed the hoseline. Water was spurting and spraying from the hose coupling and the side of the hydrant so we took turns cooling off in the cooling mist. One of the firefighters was ambling toward us carrying a heavy wrench. “Sorry kids, but the fun’s over” he said with a broad smile. We stood nearby and watched him crank the nut on top of the hydrant. Slowly the water spray dissipated, the hydrant gurgled, and the hoseline went flat. Finally the firefighter unhooked the hose, replaced the cap, then tousled my red hair and said,” Time to go home carrot top.”

In 1989 at the age of thirty five I was hired as a rookie firefighter with the Asheville Fire Department. My fifteen year career in the fire service thus far has been challenging, rewarding and multi-faceted. Firefighters are no longer one dimensional in their delivery of service to the community. In addition to fighting fire we deliver emergency medical care, mitigate hazardous material incidents, perform technical rescues, and deliver fire/life safety information programs to the community. In addition, women are discovering that the fire service offers excellent career opportunities and benefits to them personally. If you, or perhaps someone you know, would be interested in learning more about pursuing a career in the fire service please contact me.

Nancy Tabel
District Commander
Asheville Fire Department8
28-259-5466 Work
828-472-2073 Pager

I appreciate the opportunity to share with the community of women in WNC about my personal experience as a professional woman in a very nontraditional workplace. Additionally I hope that this article may empower some of those women to pursue a career path that was formerly considered unavailable to them. Two months ago I became the first woman to be promoted to the rank of District Commander in the Asheville Fire Department. Achieving that goal is a significant milestone for change in the organization as well as letting the other eight women firefighters know that they indeed can advance. In addition to fulfilling my primary role as a multi-company supervisor I open doors of opportunity as the leader of the targeted recruitment team.
Right now we are actively recruiting, but we will only be taking applications until Aug. 13th. Normally, we don’t usually recruit candidates without their already having earned EMT and/or NC State FF certifications so women and minority candidates have their best shot now. The last time we had an open enrollment without prerequisite certifications was 2001.