mysticlakecasinoemt

Can anyone on the list offer details on how a swift water rescue would go in the setting of a stretch along the L.A. River bed? Details that are needed, are radio communication dialogue, equipment and how it's deployed, and detailed how to. Anything goes, could be a car, or individual stranded. This is for non EMS folk writers' questions who're creating Emergency episodes. Remember the 1970's TV series? http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/emergency.html

:wink: An EMT sings a marathon for charity and uploads songs as they complete to the web with images in memory of a Make A Wish Foundation child whose last wish was to appear in an Emergency TV Series episode story written by her and EMS and Fire personnel working in the field. Tribute page. http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/pattisongs.html The Singing EMT, Songs For Charity

heh. This is the unreality of a thirty year old TV show. Come join the fun. You've heard of it surely? Emergency was full of reality that was not like it really is. Chuckle factor nine billion. Great fun. Anyway, in following up on this topic. Here's what the writers have come up with using the only technical support, that of Bruce, the EMS director fellow above the other one sentence opinion. Here's the outcome of this topic in terms of this agency project's plot problem. Here in text form is the "story" for which and why this topic's scenario was submitted here to the list. Let us know what you think about whether or not our writers successfully utilized what the EMS people before this post have suggested for the writers. Thanks again all, for helping us past a technobabble bind. Do a flyby of this fiction, written by other paramedics and EMS folks in jest, to get your answer on how we solved the child entrapment scenario in the joke world of a thirty year old dead paramedic TV show. This is purely entertainment so don't get overly serious like a lot of reply folk have already done here.. and please politely note that this is the last entry on this thread by the original scenario poster. Chuckle or rip a new opinionated butt hole. Doesn't matter. This post is to finish and conclude the this thread so those reading afterwards can see all the why for. See ya. Patti EmergencytheaterTaleinOneFile Our current episode as it happens with descriptions of images sent. Uploaded daily. The Story Unfolds... Season Six, Episode Forty One.. §§ Attrition §§ Debut Launch: January 1st, 2007. ------------------- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/emergencytheaterlive **ETL Writer's Preproduction List. *Cut and paste any link that is highlight broken into your browser address bar and the link will function. http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/emergency.html Emergency Theater Live Homepage. Click the TV set at the top of Emergency Theater Live's homepage to see the latest music soundtracked, imaged version of this episode after entering User ID 'efan' and Password 'frontrowseat' at the link above. This version of the current episode is scene delayed as compared to the most recent submissions shown in the text only file coming up below. You will need your Yahoo Email User ID and your Yahoo Email Password to access the file link below this sentence. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/EmergencyThe...leinOneFile.txt **Location to the Complete Current Story ************************************************** From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@yahoo.com> Date: Wed, 10 Jan 2007 23:41:33 -0800 (PST) Subject: That Certain "Flare"~~ "Man, this is the best idea you've had all day." said Johnny, letting loose a sigh of pure displaced aggression as he inhaled his double decker triple pickle cheeseburger. "Huh. If my idea of eating now's the only one you've liked today, we're in for some very serious trouble." Roy said sucking on his straw stabbed soda angrily in reply. "I don't figure." Johnny frowned. "We haven't had a run all morning. We've...just been.. tooling around, waiting for something exciting to happen." Roy insisted. "Don't we always?" Johnny asked sarcastically, gesturing the obvious with a nod at the still turned on HT sitting at the ready in front of them on top of their paint peeling, bleached out picnic table. Roy rolled his eyes and let loose a longish complaint. DeSoto took a deep breath. "All we have on the agenda for today, barring any unexpected emergency calls, is one school tour, the yearly vehicle maintenance checks on the squad and engine, and a date with Dr. Brackett at his come one, come all semi-annual paramedic to doctor brainstorming meeting at Rampart. So why are you bristling every spine at me and the rest of the guys today? You've made us all feel like it's suddenly the end of the world today." His focus of concern was one that Johnny had already dealt with mentally several hours ago. "So,.." mumbled Gage with hungrily chewing, overstuffed burger cheeks. "You just made it sound like a little assigned P.R. sidework's suddenly the purest torture. I thought you liked your job." he said, eyeing up his partner a little askance. "I could ask the same thing of you, pal. My ear's are still blistering from the last time you started venting out your lips. You've been contradicting anything and everything I've tried to bring up into friendly conversation ever since we rolled out of bed for roll call at five a.m... " DeSoto told him, brandishing a steaming french fry. "....LAST Thursday." he glared. "I have not." frowned Johnny, defending himself. "See? There you go again!" Roy snorted in frustration. "O.K., come on, let's go. If we're going to enjoy any of the time that's left during our new unofficial lunch hour, it's gonna be sooner rather than later." "Wait a minute. Where are we going?" Johnny asked, scooping up his food and two pop cups as he hastily kept up with his partner's fast retreat back to the rescue squad. He already had their full set of keys out. "I think I finally figured out the one place that I can take ya that'll put that smile, that I can only dimly recall appearing on your face once for a brief second since the beginning of summer, back where it belongs." Roy said, no nonsense while he started the ignition sharply. "Now put your helmet on so I can leave." Johnny glared at him. "Geesh, all right already. I'm set." he said, abandoning his still steaming meal into its paper bag in between his shoes with one hand while he shoved his helmet on with the other. "Thank you." Roy groused, as he took off from the fast food stand's emergency vehicle parking space with a squeal that rubbed the curb. Whining, Henry the dog awoke and lifted his head from the seat that stretched between the paramedics when Roy's irritated, lurchy driving caused the early vestiges of car sickness to begin rising in the pit of his stomach. "Sorry, boy." apologized DeSoto, reaching a hand over to Henry's head to scratch it affectionately. "I guess I must be having a bad day because someone else near me seems to be having one, too." "Speak for yourself." Gage said with a sour face. "I thought I already WAS." Roy shot right back without taking his eyes off the road. The two paramedics sat in stony silence for a whole five minutes. Only once did Roy "cheat" and flick on the squad's reds to scatter a pack of slow drivers who seemed not to be noticing the green light hanging in front of their noses. Soon, DeSoto took a right turn, heading into sunlight. "Is this it?!" Johnny demanded with a snarl, jerking his thumb out the passenger side window at something very large in front of them. Roy sneezed when the tang of sea salt finally did a number on his sinuses. "Yeah." he replied tersely. "I hope you're satisfied. Because it's my absolute last desperate ditch effort trying to be nice to ya, for the rest of the shift." "Well, far out." Johnny suddenly beamed, wide eyed and happy. "I had no idea you had THIS up your sleeve." "Had what up my sleeve?" Gage looked at Roy as if DeSoto was having a sudden stroke. "A lunch trip bringing Henry to the ocean. You did remember that Stephanie's on duty the same schedule as us, right?" "Who's Stephanie?!" Roy roared, doubly puzzled by Johnny's abruptly changed mood and line of thought. Roy's pot was definitely simmering over the brim. And then some. "My current "chick" as Chet would put it if he was here." Johnny sighed, happily leaning an elbow out the open window frame. He turned into the sharpish hot breeze ruffling his hair as he sniffed the wonderfully cooling humid air that just was beginning to blow into the squad. Roy's mouth flopped open. "Oh." he said, simply. Then he started gaping as he tried to put two and two together. "Is she a firefighter or something?" he finally asked, running the locations of the county's sister stations that he knew were along their current route through his head. "No." Gage said, adding nothing more. He just went on smiling stupidly. DeSoto made a noise of disgust when he realized that Johnny was in love. "Oh, so that explains it. You're suffering from some kind of separation anxiety being away from her." he diagnosed. "I am not." Johnny frowned indignantly at Roy. "Sure you are. I've seen you this way a couple of times before." "With who?" Gage denied. "With Valerie, the kids-from-h*ll mom we met when she got hit by a car right in front of us for one......" he started to tick off on a couple of fingers. "Oh, I'm over her completely, Roy. For Pete's sake, she's more suited for.. for.. Craig Brice than me, if you ask me.." Gage frowned, pausing at his sudden double pronoun delivery. Both men sucked in bated breaths, thinking about it. Then both just as suddenly shook their heads in dismissal and pushed it away. "Pull over right there in that parking lot. I think I see her." Johnny said excitedly. He pulled his helmet off. "Hey, Stephanie!" he called out, sticking an eager head through the squad's side window. He started to wave. Roy peered over their dashboard at the scene in front of them and screwed up his eyebrows in confusion. He noticed nothing but a pair of sunbathing moms watching a toddler of someone's frolicking in the shallows on the beach. Gage called out again, earning an irritated over-the-shoulder glance from both the women wearing bikinis. "Pervert.." one of them hissed. Then the two of them turned back around and they began ignoring the rescue squad parked directly behind them on the concrete causeway edging the beach. Johnny was oblivious. Coughing absently, Roy stopped trying to figure it out. He simply opened his driver's door and watched as Henry slipped off his lap to land with a soft plish onto the sandy beach that was slowly heating underneath them. "There you go, Henry. Have fun. You got five minutes. We'll hit the horn if we get a run." he promised. "No, Henry! Not that way, ya stupid mutt. She's over there.." Johnny called out to their station dog. Henry ignored him, plopping down under a salted piece of driftwood. Already, his tongue was lolling out and panting from the heat of the day. Gage made a noise of disbelief. "And Cap says he's the best for interacting with all the school kids? I'm beginning to wonder." "Tell you what. Next time I have to make a choice for community ed detail, I'll go recruit Boot and Bonnie. They'll be a good match for you. All three of ya are disgustingly shaggy." DeSoto snapped. "Hmph.." Johnny, said, only half paying attention to Roy. His eyes were focused not on all the bikinis flocking around them on the beach, but towards a lone manned lifeguard tower. "Ah, ha. I knew it. This one's hers." he celebrated. "Hey Steph!" he finally improvised using the squad's mini megaphone he grabbed out from the glove compartment. "You got a minute?" he boomed out into the air. To Roy's amazement, the yellow L.A. County Beaches Rescue Truck idling in the sun started into motion towards them from where it was parked with buried tires in the sand at the base of the light blue painted wooden life guard tower. "You rang?" said an attractive lifeguard with long, glowing brown hair as she pulled up next to Squad 51. "Why, hello Johnny. This is quite a surprise. Did you come here to be nice to me?" she smiled sweetly. "Or gloat..?!" she snapped, her face suddenly shifting into an angry coldness. "Whaa - huh?" Johnny choked, stopping his pursing lips stretch out his window trying to kiss her. The woman in the red L.A. county swim suit and patch let loose. "I found out about that bet you have running between Captain Thorpe and your own Chief McConnikee. I can't believe you, you pathetic hose jockey. What kind of paramedic are you who bets which agency FAILS to pull the most victims out of trouble in a month? That's- that's- that's sick, MISTER Gage, even for you." she glared, leaning back into her driver's seat."For your own personal information, we saved seventy nine people last week. Top THAT." she glared. "And that was fighting strong rip tide currents, too. Not simply moving through thin air over land with a weeny trickling little stream of water squirting out a hose in front of you in defense against the elements. This is one bet, Jonathan Roderick Gage, that you are going to LOSE. Goodbye forever." she scintillated, falsely sweet, spinning her tires in the beach sand. Stephanie Holden, the Baywatch Lifeguard, indignantly returned her truck to the foot of her nearby watch tower. She waved a red orange rescue can at her partner still sitting in a sea facing director's chair to show him all was well with them despite the visiting non-code-R pair newly arrived from the fire department. Johnny's face continued to gape like a fish. Then Gage began to steam out both his ears around the edges. "Chet... I'm gonna kill him..." he rumbled ominously. "Looks like we're not the only ones with the same brilliant take-a-picnic-to-the-beach idea." DeSoto said into the heating stillness inside the cab. "Look right over there." said Roy, pointing down the beach to the north."Guess you're not gonna be the only one babe watching during lunch today, Johnny." A red Gran Torino with a white stripe was parked askew on top of a mat of drying kelp in the sand off the parking lot. Its two blond and brunette haired detectives had their windshield angled so that it had a bird's eye view of both the bikini moms and the lifeguard tower's front. Opening his mouth widely, Roy began to laugh until the tears ran down his face in sheer rivulets. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roy felt a whole lot better. He was getting into teaching their school kids all about fire prevention and safety. He also liked throwing in a healthy dose of first aid training, too. There were plenty of skills that children their age could handle very easily. Cold water for burns... The heimlich maneuver for choking... Mouth to mouth for heart attacks and drowning... ::Good old Henry here's a great ambassador.:: Roy thought. ::I don't know how we ever managed these demonstrations before without having a station's dog for focusing their interest.:: he wondered. Johnny was quiet, taking the physical demo part of things as he let Roy do all the talking in front of their class. Gage was lighting a garbage can on fire by rote, when it happened... ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Photo: Gage glaring with a burger full mouth outside. Photo: Roy and Johnny eating at a hot dog stand. Photo: DeSoto and Gage arguing in the squad. Photo: Beach scape of the Malibu skyline. Photo: Henry the basset hound camping out by the seashore. Photo: Two bikini moms watching a toddler frolick in the ocean. Photo: A yellow rescue truck view of a light blue lifeguard tower. Photo: Lifeguard Stephanie Holden looking out of a Baywatch truck. Photo: Johnny Gage glaring out Squad 51's window behind him. Photo: Stephanie making a condescending face in sun on the sand. Photo: Starsky and Hutch's red and white striped car on the beach. Photo: A garbage can on fire in closeup. ************************************************** From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> Date: Thu Jan 11, 2007 11:00 am Subject: Every Second Counts.. A little boy's voice piped up. "Say, Mr. Fireman?" "Yeah?" Gage asked, standing ready with a fire extinguisher for Roy's next rehearsed segment. "Why do so many firefighters show up for a medical emergency?" he asked intelligently. Henry began barking at the garbage fire from where he was sitting under a pile of girls' hands on the other side of the library classroom. Johnny's eyes never left the trash can as Roy's voice droned on about what would happen next in their demo. A piece of flaming char rose up out of the wire basket and drifted up on heat currents only to land on the carpeting at Gage's feet. He began to stamp on it to put it out before the rug could catch on fire. "Uh, Roy? I think it's about time.." he stage whispered. "This is getting kinda hot here." he hinted sotto voce'. Roy wasn't paying attention. He was displaying a hose nozzle and lever to the front row, all of whom were boys, while he delivered the how-to-put-out-a-fire speech. Another large apple sized ember floated up from the flames, this time landing on Johnny's back to the horror of the school kids. "Ow.. Roy.. I think I need your help here..." he said, whirling around in a circle, first in one direction and then in another, trying to knock the cinder off his uniform shirt and down into shoe range. The school kids began to laugh at his antics. "Hey, Roy. Pay attention! I'm burning up!" "Say mister. Why don't you stop, drop and roll?" asked a nerdy little girl wearing tape repaired glasses that were broken by the nose. The kids chortled when Johnny ignored her. Gage was beginning to panic when the scent of cotton scorching started rising up from between his shoulder blades. Johnny's dancing only grew more desperate, and soon it became incredibly funny to all the children and the one fire dog who were watching in rivetted fascination. "Ouch! God D-- uh, I mean Gosh darn it.. RoyYYY? Code red! Code--" "Whaa?" DeSoto said, looking up for the first time from his captivated audience, still in a half grin. "Ohmyg*d. Hold still." he choked in surprise. Snatching up a fire tarp from their demonstration table, he spun the blanket like a fisherman's surf net in the air until it landed solidly on top of his partner. Then he tackled him to the floor. Both paramedics fell heavily onto the rug in a jumble of arms and legs. Then DeSoto rose up quickly to begin smothering the flames. "Are you getting burned?" he said, slapping hands up and down Johnny's back. "NO.. Jeez, watch out for the trash can!" Gage said, pointing a couple of fingers outside the muffling blanket. "It's flaring." Roy vaulted over Johnny, picked up the fire extinguisher that Johnny had dropped onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, and pulled the pin on its handle. "I can do that!" shouted an eager little girl who had most of Henry in her lap. "Stay seated.." Roy shouted, yelling over the hissing vapors of the fire retardant he was blasting out over the garbage can. The fog began to spread out over the floor, covering the children like soup. Hysterical laughter ensued as children began disappearing, one by one beneath the mist. Henry only began to bark louder at all the commotion. Hearing his back sizzling stop, Johnny uncovered himself and shot to his feet, still groping with both hands, still trying to reach behind himself. "Roy..is it out?" "What? The can? Yeah...." "No, my back!" "Turn around.." DeSoto ordered, re-aiming his nozzle in Johnny's direction. "Oh, no! Don't get m---" Johnny sputtered as a rich plume of extinguishing gas tented over him, coating his hair, skin, back and face with a thick drifting flour of white, compression chilled gas. The children jumped to their feet, laughing hysterically and pointing as Johnny slowly exposed when the vapors surrounding him began evaporating. "Very funny.. Ha.ha.ha." Gage glowered to himself. He didn't even feel Roy whirling him around to check out the hole burned in over his T-shirt. "Some demo this is turning out to be." Johnny told him. "Next time, let's use our usual newspaper instead of the school's typing paper. It burns into heavier ash that probably won't float around so inconveniently the next time we light up." he lectured Roy. Gage re-shot into action when a stray ember started drifting towards a little girl's bouncing curls. He snatched the air to catch it like a football player fumbling the ball until it was out. "Ouch!.. That smarts like the mother f--" he bit his lip, hard. "No kidding." said the girl who had offered the putting-out-a-fire advice a minute earlier. "Fire's hot, mister fireman. Aren't you supposed to know about that kind of thing already?" Johnny shot her a dirty look and began dusting off his hair to rid himself of all the bright white extinguisher powder that was slowly subliming off because of the room temperature of the air. Soon, all the white mist, and condensate, were gone. They had just settled the kids back into their viewing ring, sitting indian style on the floor in front of them, when the teacher popped her head back into the classroom. "How's it going, guys?" she asked. "Just peachy. I think we're a real hit.." Gage growled at her. Before she could react, Roy stepped in front of Johnny quickly. "Uh,.. everything's under control. We've finished the fire demo part and uh, we'll be doing show and tell of all our medical gear next." he said lamely, thinking fast as he returned the pin back into the handle of the frosted fire exinguisher he still held in both hands. "Ouch, that's cold.." he said, dropping it. Miraculously, it stood upright on the floor neatly by his feet. DeSoto smiled lamely. The teacher substitute took one sniff at the smell of smothered paper smoke in the air. "Hmmph.. Ok, I'll see you in about five minutes or so." she said, looking at both firemen oddly. She especially looked at Johnny's fire retardant sculpted hair. He was looking a bit like James Dean, with the way it was plastered to his head. Hastily, Johnny combed it back to normal with a couple of fingers. "Class, are you having fun yet?" she asked, shrugging. Roy and Johnny began wincing for the worst. "YeahHHHH!" came the loud cheer from every child in the room. "They're really great." said one over-excited little boy. "Ok.. I'm going back to my office again.." the teacher said timidly, reluctantly, pointing back down the school hallway. "Bye.." She left her classroom doorway VERY slowly, one watchful eye after the other. Johnny and Roy and all the kids just waved at her, until she was gone. Then Roy got back down to business. "Ok, now where were we?" he asked the students. "You were gonna answer my question about firefighters.." said the intelligent, but now cranky boy, due to the fact that he wasn't able to speak loudly enough any more over the excited chatter that was building up in the room. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Why we send out so many firemen to medical calls.." Gage said, getting into it at last. He coughed once, for real, to rid his chest of the last of the garbage can smoke and then he took over for his partner, who made an immediate beeline for the water pitcher set out for them both on the teacher's desk. Johnny suppressed a stab of jealousy when he saw Roy down two full glasses in a sequence of rapid swallows. Gage cleared his own parched throat and looked at the boy. "Ok, uh, I'll answer that. But first what's your name?" "It's Jimmy." "Ok, Jimmy." said Gage expansively, rubbing his hands together in deep thought. He kept track of Roy laying out their demo medical gear boxes and equipment onto the floor so the children could get to see what they looked like a little better. "How do you want me to answer that? Simple and easy, or the dictionary definition?" he chuckled, thinking he was being clever in his humor. The boy simply glared at him with his arms crossed. "I.. am in the fifth grade... What do you think?" challenged the boy. "Dictionary definition it is.." Gage mumbled, his face struggling to keep its professional firefighter paramedic smile. Then he spoke up haltingly. "Ok..uh, you asked for it. heh." he said with a dry mouth. He nodded gratefully to Roy when DeSoto finally handed him a full glass of cold water. Johnny slammed it back like a cowboy shooting shots of whiskey. "Thanks. I really needed that." he said to Roy. "Ok..the reason why." he said, plunking the empty glass back onto the teacher's desk. "Ok, Jimmy, uh.. it's like this.." he said, flipping the teacher's chair around so he could straddle the seat and lean his still smoke sooty elbows onto its back support. "We respond both an Advanced Life Support (ALS) Paramedic Unit and Basic Life Support (BLS) Engine or Truck Company on all life threatening emergencies. This means that six personnel from the Fire Department might enter your house, with at least two of those personnel being firefighter/paramedics." Johnny elaborated, pointing at both Roy and himself. "That's what we are. Uh, what we do inside our fire department.." he said, then he broke off, forgetting what he was going to say next. "After that fire stunt, you still call yourselves real firefighters?!" asked the cranky kid. Roy, embarrassed, took over, giving Gage some cover in which to recall his thoughts. Johnny didn't protest. He just got off the chair and knelt down over the med gear and started dragging out the items Roy began to speak about while he talked. DeSoto continued where Johnny had left off... "In the event that cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, C.P.R., is needed, the paramedics wouldn't easily be available to provide advanced life support, uh, that is, giving injections and inserting breathing tubes, if they were performing two person CPR themselves. The typical division of labor during these types of emergencies is usually as follows: One paramedic, the primary one, performs advanced airway procedures such as intubation on anyone not breathing. He gathers patient information, makes base hospital contact, receives and gives medication orders, and oversees all aspects of the ongoing and continuing patient care. Are you all with me so far?" Roy asked the children. "Uh huh.." they said, rivetted by DeSoto's story telling. Even Henry was rapt. "Ok." said Roy. "The secondary paramedic administers cardiac defibrillation, uh, heart electrical shocks." he corrected. "And he's the one to gain intravenous access using I.V.s so he can administer medications. And he oversees how the C.P.R. is going in order to make sure that it continues to be effective enough for the patient during different phases of treatment. Two BLS firefighters perform C.P.R..." "Who presses on somebody's chest then if you two are too busy to do it yourselfs?" asked the girl holding Henry. Gage piped up. "Our crewmates do, honey. They're what we call basic life support firefighters. They perform the actual C.P.R., even bagging oxygen into someone's lungs in between compressions." he said, holding up a teaching ambu and squeezing it before he handed it down to a child for a classroom pass around. Then he demonstrated a few cycles of that kind of resuscitation with a second ambu apparatus on the mannikin they had left lying sprawled and bare chested on the floor. "Oh, ok." replied the little girl, squeezing hers a few times with its pressure valve disconnected mask plastered over her face. Johnny added more. "One BLS firefighter also assists us with the preparation of all medical equipment and supplies we may need: the EKG monitor, the suctioning device, the spine board for transportation purposes. And the medicines we will probably find ourselves using, many of which have to be assembled at the rescue scene to maintain sterility." "What's that? Stir?.. star..?" asked the brainy boy, who really wasn't. "Sterility. That means germ free." said Roy. ::or sperm free.:: Gage chuckled mentally in a joking thought. Gage went on with his answer. "One supervisor's needed to oversee the entire incident call, our fire captain, to help with transportation and our patient's house-to-ambulance transfer. He might even be the one consoling family members if someone's really sick and we're working on them. Our captain's free to respond to questions, he can gather witness information, and even request additional fire truck and ambulance or helicopter resources if they're needed." "Cool!" said another little boy, holding a training set of disconnected defibrillator paddles up in the air. He mocked shocked his best buddy sitting next to him who played along by falling over suddenly fake-dead and violated through the heart. Gage grinned at their antics. One little girl raised her hand. "But what if you get there, and it's just a bee sting or something really dumb?" she asked Roy by tugging on his pants. "Oh, that's easy." said DeSoto, kneeling down to show her an oxygen mask. "On many emergency calls, not all our fire personnel are needed. We respond everybody at first for what we think is going to be the worst case scenario, a C.P.R. call, and rank a response all the way down to release returning personnel by radio dispatch reports, if they're not needed. You see, the absolute best in patient care is always the Los Angeles County Fire Department's top goal and many times an extra pair of helping hands makes giving that care a step way above the state's usual norm, for all the citizens of Torrance." he said. Shyly, the little girl tried putting on the mask, but it was upside down. Gently, Roy connected it up to the dummy oxygen tank that was only full of room air, readjusted it onto her face and turned it on. "There. That's how it fits. Kinda hissy, huh?" he asked her. She nodded. "It sounds like a leaky balloon." she agreed. "Hey, I wanna try.." said her neighbor. Roy affectionately tousled the curls on top of the second little girl's head. "Don't worry. You'll all get a chance to play with everything here." he said to the room at large. "But you're going to have to wait your turn in an orderly fashion, so everybody line up behind what equipment you think you want to play with and Johnny and I'll get you started off. Once you get a chance to see the first thing, move onto the next piece of gear that you wanna see next. Don't worry about missing anything. We won't stop until everybody's had a chance to--" The sound of running feet interrupted them. It was the school's principal. "Mr. DeSoto, Mr. Gage?" asked the well dressed man in a suit. "I'm Mr. Frank, Roosevelt Elementary's head principal." "Yes? What's the problem?" Johnny asked instantly, reading that need off the man easily. "It's one of our third graders. She snuck out of class about ten minutes ago and one of my shaperones just found her out in the playground. Apparently, she was playing on the monkey bars when the whole thing came loose and tipped over on top of her." he explained. "Is she hurt?" Roy asked. "Yes." he replied, as Johnny and Roy grabbed for their helmets and fire jackets. "Is she conscious?" Johnny asked, plying for more details as he pulled out his walkie talkie from his turnout's jacket to call themselves out on a response at their location. He barely noticed Roy running for the parking lot and the rescue squad's real medical gear. "No. But I- I- I.. think she's still breathing.." said the soft spoken, larger man. "Her hand's caught on something. It's real bad. Cindy's out there trying to stop all the bleeding." "Ok, see if you can find this child's parental consent papers." Gage told him. He stopped the man by the arm when the principal tried to leave unthinkingly. "But first, show me the way out to her. " said Johnny, prioritizing things. "Henry, go find the teacher and bring her in here to mind all of the kids." he told their station dog. For safety's sake, he took the acetylene barbeque torch that he and Roy had been using to light the trash can paper and stuffed it away into a jacket pocket. Henry barked once and loped out of the room to perform that task. "Where did Mr. DeSoto go?" asked the principal defensively as they quickly left the classroom. "My partner left only long enough to go pull up our rescue squad to where she's trapped. You say she's how old?" Johnny plied. "Eight and a half. My G*d, how can her teacher be so inattentive? I always keep telling everybody on my staff to keep counting those heads." fretted the principal. Johnny half grinned to calm the man. "It's summer time. The out-of-doors is a siren's call for just about anybody this time of year, Mr. Frank. Can you tell me her first name?" "It's Tasha." "Ok, thanks. We'll handle it from here. Relax, we'll call the cops if you can't find Tasha's papers in time before we have to begin treating her." Mr. Frank began to calm down enough to fall into a fast walk. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gage didn't like what he saw when they finally got outside under the hot sunlight. The playground equipment that had fallen was a multi story apparatus, complete with an upper level fort and tire swings. He could see the motionless little girl, hanging by her arm about thirty feet in the air. He lifted his live HT to his mouth. "L.A., Squad 51. Roll Engine 51 to our location and a laddertruck. We've a trapped girl inside a metal structural collapse." ##Squad 51, 10-4. Rolling one engine apparatus and a ladder company. Time out: 13: 03.## The playground shaparone had climbed the mock fire pole over the sand pit near the collapsed monkey bars and was holding onto it for dear life with her legs while she held onto the pressure point in Tasha's trapped arm desperately at the fullest extent of her reach. "Hurry! I'm.. getting so tired." the woman moaned. "Ok. All right. Just let go. I don't want you to fall from up there." Johnny said, whipping off his coat and helmet. He immediately went to the base of the pole. "Ok, slide down. I'll catch you on the way down." he said, holding up his hands. "I can't let go. She's bleeding bad." "I've got a tourniquet right here in my pocket!" he said, pulling out one from his hip holster. "I'll get up there and take over. Now come down before you fall down." he told her. ##Squad 51, L.A... Engine 51 reports an E.T.A. of four minutes to your location. Truck 110 is responding in six.## "10-4. We'll be waiting.." Gage replied HT. Gasping, trembling, the woman grasped the play fire pole, leaving behind bloody trails from the soiled fingers she had been using to aid Tasha. She slipped down the last eight feet to the ground when her gripping strength finally failed to hold her onto the slippery pole. Johnny caught her as her feet impacted the sand. He absorbed some of her momentum by rolling both the woman and himself over onto one side into a muffled tackle. "You all right? You didn't sprain your ankles?" he asked. "No," she sobbed, brushing messy hair away from her face with her arms as she avoided getting Tasha's blood onto her skin subconsciously. "Just help her." she cried, staying where she was, lying on the sand. Gage immediately started climbing, using his gloves to dry off the pole as he ascended. Closer and closer, he rose up towards the limp little girl hanging by just her left hand from twisted knot of overstressed playground pipework. He saw something thick and red, dripping and falling by him in a steady rain from up above. ::That's arterial.:: he decided, grunting as he worked his way higher and higher. The scent of blood only made him climb faster. He saw Roy running with the resuscitation gear and trauma boxes. "Leave those for now and get belts and ropes. She's way up here with a life threatening bleed!" Gage shouted at his partner. Reaching the top of the pole, Johnny locked his feet and ankles around the pole to hold himself in place and he reached over for the little girl's neck and upper arm. Clamping a hold back over her effected brachial artery, he reached a second hand out by the fingertips, trying to stretch far enough to feel for her carotid pulse. ::Is it there?:: he wondered, not seeing clear signs of breathing because of the wind blowing the girl's long trailing blond hair back and forth over her face and torso. Johnny stretched even closer and very precariously from the great height he had climbed on the playground fire pole. "Tasha? Can you hear me?" he asked. --------------------------------------------------------------- Photos: None. ************************************************** From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" <voyagerliveaction@yahoo.com> Date: Sun Feb 4, 2007 1:05 am Subject: Sheer Deprivation... Johnny was regretting his choice of action and decision to just charge right on in. "Roy, hurry up! I'm getting real tired here..." he grunted, holding tight to the pole, and the little girl as hard as he could. "I'm coming up!" Roy hollered, climbing with three belts, two rope coils and gear enough to set up two anchor points above the girl. "Is she viable?" "Yeah.." gasped Gage. "...for now. As soon as you get her tied off, get her O.P.A." he strained, yelling around the tourniquet strap he had moved and now held ready in between his teeth. Roy quickly negotiated the tilted playground equipment he still trusted to be secure around the child. DeSoto tied off his belt on a primary strut he could see directly jutting up from a concrete plug beneath the ground and he reached for the first of his spare belts. "Get the girl's.." Johnny groaned, willing his fingers to keep on gripping the pulse point in Tasha's arm. The tang of blood began to smell even saltier when the sweat running down his face began to evaporate. "Nope. You're first." Roy grinned tightly as he reached over towards them. "She's not going anywhere with that trapped hand and only you are in danger of falling. I'm sure you don't want Cap seeing you like this." DeSoto said, lowering himself carefully down until he hung above his partner and the child. "Don't move." he told Gage. "Wouldn't dream of it." Johnny said, not looking away from the unconscious child's face. "Risky, doing this, I know, but oh, so worth it." he grimaced, blowing away a trickle of perspiration that was rolling down into his eye. DeSoto snuggled on Johnny's belt to the anchor point he had created above them all and hooked him in securely. "Okay." Gage let go and hung arms and legs limp in instant relief. A few seconds later, he deftly applied the girl's tourniquet after hugging her to himself with his legs. Roy climbed back up half a foot on his rope and got on Tasha's head long enough to insert the short airway and get in another fast rimary assessment. "She's open, but panting." he reported. "Color's still fair." he said putting on the child's harness and belt. "But I wouldn't count on it staying that way." DeSoto reported. "Pulse's 120 and weak." Gage made a noise of frustration. "Are you going up top to take some of the pressure off this hand?" Roy tilted up his helmet out of his way as he glanced up to where she was firmly trapped by metal. "Yeah.." he decided. 'The monkey bars on your side of her are still okay. Here." he said, passing off a pediatric ambu bag that he had stuffed inside of his jacet. "She might need this before the engine arrives." Johnny took the manual breather, holding the bag valve mask in between his teeth while he cut away the clothes covering Tasha's injury. "This, too!" DeSoto told him, passing off a small adjustable cervical collar. Johnny sized and fitted it snugly into place to immobilize Tasha's head firmly for the lifting move to come. Roy slowly, inch by inch, made his way on top of and over the section of steel pipework that hadn't snapped and warped into failure. "Is she set down there?" DeSoto yelled down. "I'm gonna take her weight off that arm in a few seconds." he warned. "Yeah. Yeah." Gage answered. "Then bring me up a little so I can ventilate her. She's getting suppressed too much on her inhalations." Roy hurried and got the job done. Once he was satisfied that Johnny was comfortable and able to carry out his end of things, Roy concentrated on learning how the girl's left hand was pinned around the twisted metal rods that used to be the climbing struts of the elevated jungle gym. He marked a second written time in ink right on the girl's skin above Gage's tourniquet when he released the band for a few moments. DeSoto retightened it to halt Tasha's active bleeding once he saw that her hand and some of the unfractured fingers and knuckles blossomed back into pink shades. "What's she gonna need?" Johnny asked Roy as he gave the girl as assisted breath of air on the bag. Roy sighed, thinking hard. "Just a sawzall. If we shear the main beam on her end and these two grip bars tangling up her hand, she'll come free." he replied. "Good deal,..uh,..an update..." Gage gasped tiredly. "Her chest's still clear. Find anything else on her?" "No. Nothing. Just that hand, those three fingers and the arm we already know about." Roy told him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sirens grew in the distance and soon Engine 51 roared into view followed by Ladder Truck 9. The two trucks pulled up at the edge of the school yard. Hank Stanley and the captain of the Quint ran up to get info from Squad 51's paramedics in person. Hank put a hand to his mouth for shouting when he saw that Roy and Johnny's hands were far too busy for portable radio use. "What's her condition and situation?" he yelled up to them. "Poor breather. Hypovolemic shock!" Johnny shouted down. "Get permission for a couple of I.V.s, Cap, for a ten year old female!" At the same time, Roy got the ladder company captain's attention. "Get a sawzall in the bucket! A peds backboard with her in the basket will be the fastest way down!" Johnny's list kept coming. "Bring a splint with ya! For her upper arm, hand and shoulder." he added. Cap did them one better. "And a second paramedic team to take over for you once she's on the ground. You both are depleted too long strengthwise to do be allowed to do any transporting." Stanley ordered, seeing how much Roy and Gage were mouth breathing through growing fatigue despite their safety belts and supporting ropes. "Kelly, Stoker, go up with nine's men in the basket. Bring the squad's I.V. box with that spineboard and a universal air splint with a ton of elastic bandages. Take over ventilations while nine's crew cuts her free and immobilizes her.... Roy is she fully secured?" he asked, meaning both Tasha's airway and her dangling position. "Yes!" DeSoto shouted. "All right." Hank waved. "Her ambulance is on the way and your relief's coming in one. Hang in there. I got Lopez on the biophone to Rampart right now." DeSoto gestured affirmation as he began checking and rechecking all three of the anchor points he had rigged for supporting everybody in the air. Then he contented himself with resting a few monitoring fingers against the rapid pulse flickering fitfully in Tasha's throat. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Rampart this is Engine 51." began Marco from where he crouched on the street a little way from the active rescue scene. Already, he could see sparks flying as the stricken child was slowly untangled and sawed away from the collapsed playground cage on its second level. "How do you read?" Lopez hailed. Dixie McCall toggled the base station's reply switch. ##Unit calling in, go ahead.## "Rampart, we've a little girl trapped by the left hand with possible limb fractures with severe hemorrhaging. She's unconscious. Airway, bleeding and breathing are under effective manual control. She's still undergoing extrication at this time. Our E.T.A. to the ground is..." Lopez looked up and eyeballed their rescue team's progress. They were in the midst of a coordinated move sliding the girl onto a roped in backboard inside the ladder bucket. "....about five minutes. She has on one tourniquet." ##10-4, 51.## she replied. ##What's your child's approximate age?## "Nine or ten years old, Rampart." Marco replied. ##Start two large bore lines of Lactated Ringers at 20 cc's per kg. Continue supporting her respirations, supplementing with pure oxygen as soon as it becomes available. Establish an ET when warranted. Obtain baseline vital signs, get an EKG reading and add direct pressure to the wound site if the tourniquet still doesn't appear to be working well enough for you. 51, fly her in, doctor's orders.## she said as Joe Early, standing next to her, made twirling motions in the air while reading her notes. ##We'll have vascular and orthopedic surgeons waiting on arrival.## "Ten four, Rampart. Two large bore of Ringers Lactate, treat for shock and transport out by chopper. We'll re-establish communication with you once she's in the air." Marco shared, still watching the firemen working above him. ##We're standing by.## Joe said. Lopez dropped the biophone receiver and jogged to the engine. He switched on the loud speaker inside the Ward La France's cab. "Engine 51 to Squad 51. I've our victim's med orders. Two large bore of LR at 20 and we've a go ahead for an ET if necessary. I'll have her O2 waiting." he said using the roof megaphone speaker's boosted amplification. He paused until Gage and Roy both looked up and nodded acquiescence. Then Marco switched the hand mic's radio frequency to Cap's main HT channel. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Rampart wants an evac by chopper." "Gotcha, pal!" Stanley shouted to him out loud from the other side of the ladder truck. Hank immediately got off his portable's incident command channel tuned in to the bucket firemen and shifted to L.A.'s main fire frequency in order to notify them of a change in their call from ground to air support. Roy and Johnny had Tasha safely intubated and on the ground by the time the second paramedic squad arrived to take over her care and the rapid flight in to Rampart. Unoccupied firemen assured a clear landing zone for Copter Two as she landed in the school's empty soccer field. The medic grabbing the hanging bags of I.V. colloid from Roy's hand shouted something over the growing 'thwap' of the helicopter's whirling blades as they approached the bird's loading doors. "Got her name yet?" "Yeah. Here's her parental consent from the principal's office." DeSoto said, pointing under the head of the blood stained child's backboard. "First name's Tasha." "O.K." waved the medic. His partner took over Gage's bag squeezed ventilations. He eyeballed the blood that was drying thickly onto Gage's shirt and pants. "How much blood loss?" he asked. Johnny shook his head marginally. "800 cc's. She's losing no more. Tourniquet on her upper left arm needs releasing in three." he yelled holding up the same number of fingers. "All right." he said, patting Johnny on the shoulder in acceptance. "We got her." The two medics waved off Squad 51 as Ladder Nine firefighters helped load the child's board and the new paramedic's rescue squad gear into the hot running, waiting helicopter. When Copter Two was just a dot on the skyline, Johnny collapsed onto his butt to start a serious resting period in an attempt to cool himself off. Roy plopped down right next to him as they watched Engine 51 and Ladder Nine tidy up the scene and playground sand before the police moved in with their cordoning tape perimeter barrier that would seal off the area for future city investigators. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "That was quite a spectacle, gentlemen." said the principal, handing the two exhausted paramedics paper cups full of ice water. "I'm just sorry this wasn't a harmless demonstration like everything else you did today." Gage and Roy nodded their thanks for the cold drinks. "That was definitely NOT by the book." Gage grinned. "But,.. like you, I'm glad everything turned out okay." Johnny smiled cordially. "So am I." piped up Captain Stanley meaningfully. He hefted up Roy, Johnny and the little girl's life belts significantly. Johnny held up his hands in apology. "Won't happen again, Cap. I promise." he replied, straight faced and serious. "That's one hot doggin it experience I never, ..ever want to live again." The principal chuckled. "Oh, yeah? Too bad. They sure enjoyed it." he said, pointing over his shoulder with one of his thick thumbs. Roy, Johnny and Cap glanced up and over in that direction. From every playground facing window, all the firemen saw a flood of excited, cheering faces of school children who were celebrating what they had just witnessed first hand in what they thought was another phase of their fire department demo day. Chet Kelly accorded them a comical little bow, doffing his helmet with flair as he stooped to acknowledge their accolade, making everyone laugh out loud. Still giggling tiredly, Johnny realized he was feeling a couple of smacks on the shoulder. It was Roy. Gage turned around to look at him. "Come on." Roy said. "Let's get you cleaned up and into a new uniform before all those kids get too close of a look at ya. Stoker's got a charged hose laid out with your name on it. There are fresh uniforms in the squad. I put them there in case we got all smucked up for some reason before we finally got here to give our presentation." Painfully, Johnny got to his feet. "Heh. Well, I remembered to bring extras, too." he shared, donning the jacket Cap hastily handed to him to cover up his bloody shirt. "The only thing we'll have problems with now is figuring out whose is who's." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A couple of minutes later the frantic playground chaperone from earlier gathered up both empty water cups from the two paramedic's grips. "Is Tasha going to be okay?" Roy raised his eyebrows empathetically when he saw the woman's lower lip begin to quiver in apprehension. "Yes. Most definitely. She only had that nasty gash and a couple of broken fingers to reset." he reassured her. "Nothing that a month or two's time spent in a cast won't fix." "Oh, that's a relief. I thought she was going to die." admitted the young woman. Gage regarded her with gentle amusement as he wrung out his hair under the shower Mike was giving him as he peeked from around the corner of the engine. "That was never in the cards, ma'am, all thanks to you. Your fast action, probably saved her life." he told her empathetically, sputtering a little under the hose spray. "Really? Oh, my gosh. That's - that's quite a surprise." the woman gushed. "Oh? How so?" asked Roy. The woman wrung her hands self consciously. "Well, you see, I've never taken a first aid course in a formal setting my whole life. All I've ever learned is just from watching you firemen from time to time when you come here to school and give the kids all your paramedic demonstrations." she admitted. "I guess some of that know-how must have rubbed off a little." "I guess." said the out of sight Johnny happily, realizing that his previously boring day teaching children fire lore hadn't proved to be as useless as he had thought. "That's cool." "REAL cool, ma'am." said Chet. "Cap, I'll go put the real gear away to buy us time until the fellas get all gussed up again so they can go back inside to salvage the fake stuff." "Okay, Chet. I'll put us available in ten." said Hank. "Well, see you all next year." said the playground assistant. "I'm going to go wash up, too. I'm sticky in places I'd rather not think about too much." "Want some disinfectant?" Marco offered. "We have peroxide bottles in the squad." "No thanks. I've decided I'm going to go scrub every pore I have with plenty of soap and hot, running water in the girl's locker." she said, waving and walking away. "See you, ma'am. And thanks.." Roy shouted after her. "Better make it fifteen minutes until we're 10-8, Cap." said Stoker after a moment. "Gage and DeSoto are liable to get mobbed by the kids again every step of the way." "Is that a fact?" said Cap with an amused expression. He caught the principal's firm but sympathetic nod of agreement. "All right, how about you, Kelly and Lopez go on ahead. Go... ah,. go in and run a little interference for them in backup moral support. There's gonna be no stopping along the way to answer questions from anybody once you're in there." Cap chuckled. "Yeah, they've already been answered." said Gage, a little testily as he undressed behind the shielding bulk of the engine, suddenly feeling the garbage ember seared hole on the back of his soiled uniform shirt as the wind cooled down the water drying there. "Don't worry. It'll be a piece of cake." said Chet, rubbing his hands together confidently. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Piece of cake he says...." grumbled Gage. "The only piece of cake I want is the one I didn't get because we got caught in a crowd of nosy kids anyway and got here too late for me to eat any." he moaned at Roy. DeSoto narrowed his eyes as he folded his elbows over his arms thoughtfully. "Tell you what. I'll buy you an ice cream cone instead." he offered. Johnny sighed and planted his face into both of his palms, propped up by his elbows. "No, thanks." he sighed miserably. "Hiya fellas!" greeted a warm silky voice brightly. It was Dixie, carrying a late lunch snack from the buffet line. "Hi, Dixie.." returned Roy, smiling in surprise. "Oh....hi..." said Johnny without any enthusiasm. Dixie sat down in between the two paramedics parked in front of their empty plates. "Geez. What's his problem?" she asked Roy, hooking a thumb at Johnny. "Nothing." Gage shrugged. "Uh huh.. And I got some swamp land for ya for sale in Florida." Roy sighed with a tolerant smile at their friend and head nurse. "He saved a life today." Dixie blinked. "Okay. So why isn't he happy about that?" she asked dryly still gesturing a finger in Gage's direction. Johnny made a face. Roy elaborated and met her stare of disbelief. "He missed dessert doing it." said DeSoto casting a hand over to the pie-less, well picked over dessert area. Dixie didn't move visibly, but the corner of her mouth crooked up more than just a little. Then she cocked her head at Johnny. "What did you miss getting yourself, Johnny?" she asked. Gage still looked stung. "Coconut cream pie." he growled at her at little clueless as to why Dixie would be asking the question. "With extra nonpareil sprinkles." added DeSoto, grinning. He was catching on far faster than his partner. "I'll be right back." McCall winked at the two of them. She rose from their little round table and disappeared through a swinging door attached to the hospital cafeteria's kitchen room. "Where's she going?" Johnny asked sharply. Roy eyed him up, still smiling. Then he leaned forward to meet Gage eye to eye in a close stare. He opened his mouth. "Doctors aren't the only miracle workers around here." "Huh?" Gage blinked, totally confused as he took a sip of coffee. His eyes lit up in complete surprise when Dixie returned with not one, but two heaping slices of pie on a freshly frosted platter. Johnny immediately snatched up his dinner fork. Dixie held up an admonishing finger. "Ah, ah, ah..You know the rules. One dollar, pre-paid for the cashier, out where she can see it, in advance." McCall ordered. Gage slammed down his money so fast that the dishes on their blue plastic table jumped up and rattled. "Wow, thanks, Dix." he said, eating hungrily. "How'd you manage this? I'm.....almost speechless." Gage smiled crookedly. Dixie chuckled. "Well... Do you know of my knack for getting apples out of that touchy buttoned fruit machine in the nurse's lounge that has a tendency to always deliver oranges down its dispensing chute?" "Yeah, Joe tells us his whole sordid tale about that every time he finds himself stuck with another orange." Roy answered her. Dixie angled her head, still smug and highly pleased with herself. "I've learned my little hip nudging trick works far better on live chefs than it does cold heartless machinery." "I'll bet it sure does." the two paramedics said. And they laughed uproariously. Johnny was licking the last of the coconut whipped cream off the back of his nearly inhaled lunch fork when the tones went off on the portable squad radio resting beside them. ##*Beep.*Beep.* Squad 51, what's your status?## asked L.A. Roy replied while Johnny hastily threw out more dollar bills to pay for all three of their meals. "Squad 51, L.A. We're available." DeSoto replied back. ##10-4. Stand by for a response. *Beep.*Beep.*Beep.* Squad 51, with Engine 51. Gas leak at a warehouse. 1711 North Emmett Drive. 1711 North Emmett Drive. Cross street, Nass. Timeout : 16:34.## Gage snatched the radio out of Roy's hands eagerly. "10-4. Uh, we're 10-8 from Rampart Hospital. Our E.T.A. is.." Johnny looked at his watch and did a few calculations as he traced their route out on the mental map of the county he held in his head. "...six minutes. KMG-365." he acknowledged. Just a second later, they all heard a like echo when Captain Stanley copied the call and began rolling out with his pumper crew. Roy and Johnny wiped their mouths with their napkins and rose from their seats quickly, grabbing up the wire wrapped EKG monitor and oyxgen apparatus they had wheeled in to lunch with them. Johnny paused at the automatically opening door of the cafeteria leading back into the main hospital proper. He deftly balanced a gear box in each hand. "Say, Dixie!" Gage hollered out. "Did I tell you that I love ya?" Dixie raised an eyebrow craftily over the rim of the teacup she was sipping in pure creature comfort as she nursed the steaming beverage in between laced fingers."Over the resupplying counter? Frequently!" she yelled back at him, bubbling in mirth. She waved them on and away very firmly around her hysterical giggles. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going home in a few minutes.." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Station 51 began racing to the scene from two different directions. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Photos: None. ************************************************** ***This current episode has just begun. ***Keep watching here daily for new episode ***scene installments. ************************************************** This is the pre-production period for.. Episode Forty One, Season Six §§ Attrition §§ Debut Writing in Progress Launch : January 1st, 2007. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Emergency Theater Live® =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+ Hosts- Jeff, Patti, Cassidy in Germany, the United States, and the French Seychelles. ** Theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com Emergency Theater Live® "Offstory" Email Address For Midi Music Requests and General Inquiries **emergencytheaterlive@yahoogroups.com Emergency Theater Live® "Send To Story" Email Address For Sending in a Story Contribution to the Current Episode (You must join the preproduction list here in order to write for Emergency Theater Live®) http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/emergency.html Emergency Theater Live® Homepage http://groups.yahoo.com/group/emergencytheaterlive Writer's Pre-Production Distribution Site ____________________________________ Mark VII Productions and Universal owns all of Emergency!© and its Characters. © 2007 All rights reserved. ========================= ***NOTE: All author writings submitted to the theater will be set free onto the web to reach as many readers as we can manage to find. Contributing to any ETL episode means that Voyagerliveaction.com has permission to publish your work in the manner presented here on this website and on text versions of the stories on other sites. All web audience writers or volunteer consultants and their corresponding emails will be duly recorded and left in place within each show's music and imaged airing episode, pointing out that fan or professional EMS personnel's creative contribution. Copyrights 2003© - 2007©. Theater Hosts- Emergency Theater Live!®.. ==========================

Heh. Can sporks rust? I like the outer space arm concept. Only thing missing is Superman. Nah. So far, the most help has been this reply received from a far more appealing "cozy-er" forum than this particular analytical political monstrosity at EMT City. Thanks any and all for expending gray matter. Read below for an ace perspective on what we were looking for to hand over to the fan writers. "Providing the rescuer could get an anchor point established, and bridge across and set up another anchor point to work from, the sawzall would be a good bet. Once a safe anchor point has been established, prior to cutting the child free you would have to rig a shit sack or a soft style bosun's chair, get the child secured into it, all the while securing and maintaining the ABC's, the rescuer is going to have to rig up a secondary haul point, assuming the entire time that we can find acceptable anchors, haul the child up a slight distance to get the weight off the entrapped limb, and then begin the extrication. All this is assuming that the ladder crew isnt extended yet. Once the child has been extricated you will have to either lower via haul, or ladder, at the same time supporting ventilations, hoping by this time there is a second pair of hands helping with the mechanics of supporting life and extrication. Somewhere in the mix I would have established an airway with OPA/BVM, remembering that the need to ventilate is not always the need to intubate, if the child for some reason didnt tolerate the OPA, I would intubate. (My choice for OPA is solely based on the fact that a vertical intubation hanging on a rope, although not impossible, would involve too many mechanical pieces and actions requiring a high level of dexterity. Preferred method of laryngoscopy would be F2F or a modified skyhook..... The only thing you should focus on in the air besides rescuer safety are the ABC's, and getting to the ground. Once on the ground I would have another MICU crew take over patient care, and provide a hand off from the high angle rescuers to a crew who wasnt fatigued. Beyond ABC's tx for C/Spine, closed head injury, internal bleeding, and other secondary problems. You didnt say how old the child was, so Im gonna go with large bore IV access if possible in the air at two sites if possible, if not in the air, somewhere between arriving on the ground and being loaded into the truck/helo for rapid transport to a Level 1 Trauma center. I would also try and correct the shock related hypovolemia with every basic measure possible prior to using advanced measures such as pharm.... Bruce __________________ Director of Emergency Medical Services, EMT-Paramedic, PHTLS Instructor, AMLS Instructor, Technical Rescue Supervisor "

Looky all the people who aren't reading the paragraph details. 1. Fiction. 2. Writers script in progress inside the "reality" of FICTIONAL Emergency series. 3. No solutions offered, just questions from half the respondees. Heh. 4. Oh, and did I say this was fiction? *snark* ROTFLMLAO. Anybody game to write in the POV of this pretending used to be show, or not? Come on, I know there's a creative streak in somebody out there somewhere whose got imagination to fit the requested info sought. Consider it a tickle challenge and have fun. *playful jab to the shoulder. 100% mock.*

Here's a hypothetical for you that's actually an EMS writer's current challenge on a fiction site. Current rescue in the ongoing public script so far is this. Child trapped by the left hand and dangling vertically when playground equipment failed. Thirty feet up. Unresponsive to verbal and pain. Severe arterial bleeding from the trapped hand and arm and the only paramedic access point is from a playground fire pole three feet away until the engine company, and a ladder bucket apparatus gets there in four minutes. An ALS rescue squad with full extrication and medical gear's on scene. (They were giving a school tour). A paramedic is currently up the pole and successfully holding a pressure point at the brachial. How would this child be rescued in detail and what would her detailed course of treatment be? See image. Sorry for the TV character paramedic, but that's where this scenario is needed, on a fiction site that writes new episodes of Emergency, the 1970s TV show for fun with other EMS/Fire workers with fans. Email me or leave post here with any and all ideas. Solution is needed by January 21st, 2007, the episode's airing deadline. Yes, I'm a working EMT but this is one I can't think out of past the usual limb trauma protocol after the fact. I'm being only the editor of this story. I'm just the webmaster here. That fiction website's here. http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/emergency.html Patti

I've just found out that Friday's priority medical wasn't handled as badly as it sounded over the main radio channel. It turns out, all of us only heard partial bits of what was going on and it only sounded like there was no EMT with this guest seizure. I finally spoke with the officer who was the one who was yelling so urgently then that day. He told me more about what had been happening and he told me that he never even heard me trying to help him in the part of a minute before MD fire was toned out. It turns out a supervisor WAS there. He was the one relaying to the officer to tell dispatch some critical information, which then was mis-interpreted by me as "an EMT not there yet" horror and as an "regular officer panicking" by the supe down in dispatch who returned that scathing seeming order. All of everything was only partially clear transmissions. The rest was static because too many people were trying to talk at the same time all at once. The EMT, my partner, had run from the hotel, but was very busy with airway and spinal control on the guest, who was regaining consciousness and trying to sit with very severe, aggressive deep fountaining, head bleeding out the back of his neck and out his right ear. The guest blacked out soon after and that was why my partner wasn't talking on any channel, med or main. His gloves were full protecting C-spine. MD Fire did arrive and long boarded and rapid sequence intubated the man immediately en route to our hospital. It was quickly found that the man had badly fractured the base of his skull right at C-1 when he passed out and hit his head on a machine. Doctors found that he had an active arterial epidural hematoma going on around the cerebellum and brain stem. A med flight helicopter was called immediately to take the man to a Level I trauma center. Turns out the man died suddenly despite all possible care in midflight after losing most of his blood supply through his decompressed fracture. I just took a deep breath after hearing all of what REALLY happened that morning. It had just been the way coincidental phrases broke through the radio during that minute or so that had sounded so desperate to horrify us all. Only misleading parts of a whole conversation. But, yes, that supe in dispatch was disciplined for transmitting interference during a 10-90 radio traffic situation which calls for absolute radio silence except from those working the emergency after any priority medical tones are sounded. I had obeyed that myself even while chafing at being stuck at my door post. But I am glad the EMT firehouse director is still investigating the no officer EMT free on the floor problem. There is still the fact that my partner had to come from so far both times for both that cardiac arrest and the skull fracture cases. It really bothers me that I was so close by, without the recourse of being able to be relieved simply because there weren't enough officers free off the money cart drop details to do so. Twelve of them were tied up doing that then, leaving only two on the floor to cover the rest of the finance escorts that typically go on after the four a.m. time slot. They, in those moments, had been tied up with money or door post first responsibilities, too, just like me. My initial concern of officer EMT inavailability is valid and still holds in my eyes and in others' I've since found. These new details I've learned about only serve to make it ... a smidgeon tinier.

Change of Heart. Remember that cardiac arrest call from four days ago? Where I was stuck eighty feet away and the other EMT was stuck on a door post 250 yards away so that his arrival to the guest's side was delayed? It was only the fact that other guests started this lady's CPR that made her recovery good enough for recapture with the defibrillator. Otherwise, she would have been pulseless and unoxygenated for over two and a half minutes, enough to cause some adverse cardiac chemical changes, like acidosis. Just learned that she is home and is fine. Management got away with having all the floor EMTs tied up. Then. That is, until this morning. I was at a door post, and the second officer EMT was on his way to the ninth floor of the hotel to break another officer, when we heard this panicky call from the bus entrance guard about a guest down, having a seizure. I offered my position at the main doors hinting my close position to others again, like I did for that arrested lady, for someone to relieve me. It seemed like only I knew that the second EMT was far, far away in the hotel on an upper floor with an ETA of over 2 minutes to the call site. Next thing I knew, I hear a mobile officer, who ran into the building, in the midst of a struggle, begging MD Fire to hurry and step it up a little. His frantic call was utterly terrifying and you could hear the guest choking over the radio through a compromised airway of blood or vomit. This officer was on the main channel where the fire station couldn't hear him, only the rest of us. He begged twice, his words broken. I went over the line and said, "Steve, see if you can tip his head back if you can..." Then I hear the supervisor EMT down in dispatch chastising the officer for yelling in panic and demanding that he call dispatch asap and explain himself. Then the main channel fumbled physical violence and went quiet and all I could see was the firehouse sending two trucks with lights on full to that entrance. I guess the officer was trying to head and neck restrain the guy to protect him or to try and get him breathing or something. I felt so helpless. It took all I had to stay at my post at the door. I absolutely hate myself for standing by and not leaving to help the choking man I knew was right around the corner two hundred feet away. I had to stay at the front entrance or it would have meant my job or at least a severe disciplinary action. I don't know how that man turned out. This guest was the second one in four days whose welfare was directly jeopardized by the officer EMTs being unavailable to respond due to one reason or another. I considered quitting my job. Right there at the end of the shift. But for some reason, I didn't. I wanted to email everybody with why EMT officers are being tied up on side duties and not being allowed to be free to answer calls as we're trained to do. But I didn't do that either, knowing that it was shock and horror ruling me and not any clear thinking. Part of the reason for this is because we are so short officers; that everybody's needed in order to cover all the critical side work of moving and watching casino money. Part of the reason also, is that even when a supervisor EMT is free, they're usually off the main casino floor on the office level and frequently at a distance from any med call that may come. I finally decided to just get the hell out of there before I broke down crying in shame. I punched out fifteen minutes early and just got home as fast as I could. I slept a few hours but then I got up, because my heart was pounding. I decided to call the fire station and talk to Kai, the EMT director over there. I told him that I was going out on a limb by calling him for not obeying the company's idea of the chain of command. And then I told him everything I just told you now. I said, "Kai, you should have heard that regular officer beg MD Fire to go faster on the main channel, it was probably a blocked airway.." I told him. "And that was before the first EMT got there from the 9th floor of the hotel." Kai said, "I thought that he sounded a little out of breath over the radio. Are they not scheduling EMTs for the floor again?" I told him I didn't know who was doing it but that I honestly felt that guests and team members' welfares were being jeopardized by what was happening. Kai said, "They know we can send a fire guy over there to cover first aid needs. All right, I'll get in a little investigating, ok. Don't worry about calling like this. Medical issues are my department, ok? I won't tell them it was you who brought it up." I also told Kai that this may be one reason why other officers on all the shifts were leaving the EMT program, because they weren't being allowed to take calls and had to standby while supervisor EMTs tried to answer them from the lower levels, a much longer time delay. A living hell to regular officers and especially if you're an EMT whose every instinct it is to respond. Sheer man-made hell. Like the situation that I had to live through, and that other officer did, this morning. I thanked Kai and hung up and since then, I've tried to sleep again, but I ..can't. I keep crying. I can't believe I didn't go help that man despite company rules. I'm horrified at what happened and I'm even more horrified at myself and I still can't think straight. A life comes first! Why didn't I go? Was I so afraid of what the casino would do to me if I defied the policies? I'm afraid that my answer to that is yes. That mobile driver who came in to help that man will get a three day suspension or possibly even losing his mobile position back to a regular officer because he abandoned the truck. Policy states this. You are an officer first, then an EMT. You cannot abandon a door post or money escort of any kind for a medical call. Even if you are with a minor injury, you cannot respond to a worse call even if one should happen near you. The next EMT will handle that one. I defied policy only once. When I helped a non-breathing old lady doing a backbend over a slot machine chair after she starting having a heart attack. I went to her with a chips case in hand and I did everything I could to protect those assets while I helped her get level with an open airway and to hold her so she wouldn't fall. It was ruled that I did all I could to protect that money, with a camera's coverage, with a different department's supervisor's foot on the case, with two other guards. But I lived an absolute hell waiting for what would be done to me for two weeks. And I'm afraid that deep down, today, that I probably decided that I didn't want to live through that again. But now... Just who am I? I want to leave my job if this stupid Ca Ca doesn't get fixed. People are more important than money. Why can't my bosses see that? I'm going to disappear to work at a convention in Bloomington for two days, to try and forget all of this until I come back Sunday. Maybe Kai will have set the security supes straight by then. But who knows whether or not surveillance caught my reactions at the front door. I was mad, horrified and I'm sure, not acting normally on their monitors. They may put two and two together that I called the firehouse about this. I don't want to have to explain myself to my bosses. They're wrong and I know I'm right. Sometimes I feel that just a few others and myself actually care about all this EMT stuff. I hurt so bad now because I open myself to care. I just... care. It's me. It's who I am. Doesn't that mean anything? So , come Monday morning, I'm going to go check out what the Mall of America has to offer me if I became one of their guard/EMTs. It might mean taking a pay cut. I don't care. If the casino still holds onto money first and guests last, during the next few weeks, I'm more than gone. And you know what? I don't feel so bad for letting go a little loyalty. The reason why I thought I was an EMT for the casino just died this morning along with any shred of decency I thought they all had for the guests and employees there. Read about this whole sorry job and how I lived/live it, here. Patti's Blog- Life of a Casino EMT Patti

I wasn't there directly. I was stuck with an assets escort and couldn't leave the money. I was eighty feet away and out of sight. I got all of this through the account of my partner and discussion with security management. The "debate" ended when the paramedic taking over said the "nurse" could stay. Then it was all load and go.

That's what I thought. The ventilator was this nurse, who was suspect, because why would a nurse anesthetist need to be coached on when to breathe for someone during CPR? The compressor when we got there was a soccer coach. We got a good carotid with his compressions. What was in question was the fact this "nurse" had no credentials and didn't step aside once the first responding team, in contact with ALS a minute away, wanted to put in an oral and take over with an AED. The soccer coach made tracks instantly and didn't hang around. ALS let the "nurse" stay just on hearsay, without evidence of certification of anything. Headaches for our reports and surveillance tape. The woman was shocked twice and we got a return of viable vital signs. Started spontaneous breathing en route to the hospital. I needed to know with this thread, the legal responsibility I have when civilians are already on a new patient of mine. Major CYA instincts, ya know.. So, kick off civilians rendering aid if they're helping? Or not? Only after credential proofs? Or not? This is new territory for me. Still waiting to hear back outcome for this woman. Sixties apparent age. Hey tnmyers? I'm forty, too.. Where do you work in Minnesota? I'm in a casino near the Twin Cities. We just did a mock triage last week. Admin.. sorry about the double posting. I wasn't sure whether or not medics would read the BLS and vice versa to get my answering advice. Thanks to all who answer and explain the how-it-is to me. Patti

Here's a good one for ya.. I already know that an EMT-B can only hand over care of a patient to another who is currently certified at that same EMS level or higher who also has their credentials on hand. What happens if a civilian claims to be a "nurse" or "doctor" and does not have proof, and won't leave when you tell them to. No cops on hand. What is the law.. Especially in Minnesota? Could not find anything here at EMT City about Good Samaritan Law for civilians or anything in search using the terms "transfer of care." "transition of care." with respect to an EMT-B's legal responsibility in actual writing or EMS law. Does anybody know?

Here's a good one for ya.. I already know that an EMT-B can only hand over care of a patient to another who is currently certified at that same EMS level or higher who also has their credentials on hand. What happens if a civilian claims to be a "nurse" or "doctor" and does not have proof, and won't leave when you tell them to. No cops on hand. What is the law.. Especially in Minnesota. Could not find anything here at EMT City about Good Samaritan Law for civilians or anything in search using the terms "transfer of care." "transition of care." with respect to an EMT-B's legal responsibility in actual writing or EMS law. Does anybody know?

Not hostility.. I received flip replies from this forum all the time from long time posters who're retired EMS folks who'd rather show they know more than the new folks and who seem to like to rub it in. Sorry for that. Took a while for me to stop shaking and be able to sleep some. My original post was through fear, shock. Nothing like being in danger when you least expect it. I thought my eyes were open. Surveillance has clear footage of that whole incident. I was with the guy for four and a half minutes before MD Fire came from across the street to take over. He was conscious, almost friendly if loopy. He was in that wheel chair because he requested one when he came in through another entrance and was given one because he wasn't smelling like booze. He had the appearance of having muscular dystropy or as having another prior old head injury disability. He was 31 on his I.D., fully cooperative, and happy we were there to help. Then that gun showed up out of nowhere in the ER and took us all into hell in seconds. As to the hands on/ off policy. Even touching a casino guest without permission as a security guard is battery in the eyes of the company and any casino visitor is allowed to pursue any action taken by a guard if they feel they've been inappropriately physically touched if they want to press charges for just about any reason at all. But, if anyone takes a swing at you, any guard is allowed to do whatever it takes to protect themselves. On the reservation, there is no excessive force limitations so anything goes with the casino's blessing, since all incidents like that are usually being watched by cameras ahead of time whenever one of us has to approach anyone for something like an ID check, a policy compliance enforcement, etc. We are allowed no defensive weapons at all. On the other side of my job, as an EMT, I'm given free rein to do whatever I need to physical hands assessment,.. only if a patient's unconscious, near that state, or obviously bleeding with trauma, but only then. Not when they're awake and able to make lucid like choices. We have to ask every step of assessment and before any given treatment, ie : Do you want oxygen?, can I take a BP?, etc, to make sure not to infringe on their rights as a patient. A hundred things ran through my mind this morning and all were nasty possibilities. I was surrounded by hundreds of innocent slot and card players, out in the wide open. Cut me a little slack on my earlier reaction, it was my first inches away face to face encounter with a lethal weapon in what I thought was a very very safe scene. And my gloves were full of blankets and used gluc tester wipes. In my first post, I was feeling vulnerable, numb, and I was mad I was caught with my britches down so thoroughly. The guy's clothes were inner city "fat albert" with baggy pants belted at the thighs with an oversized long hanging T shirt. Couldn't see anything on this tiny Asian guy. He was cooperative, and followed requests instantly, until that last instant in the ER. I had four surveillance cameras on my call and they didn't see anything odd either. And I use them all the time to zoom in for a breathing status, head to toe look all the time while I'm still getting there from another area of the casino with the medical gear. I still don't know whether or not I could have done anything different. I swear, I'll smack the next guy who pulls out a gun on me. I was too stunned to even react for this one, and I could have died for it. Cops had their useless two cents worth. They said, why didn't you call us first? (They take ten minutes or more to come out to our area, even on a code three call most times.)

Spare sarcastic retorts please. I don't need or want that sh*t. If you do, it shows how really non-EMS caretaker you really have become. Seeking advice. Learned today that a cooperative altered level on drugs had a concealed 38 no one knew about until he reached the hospital. My part of things was first EMT/Security Guard there at the casino until he was loaded into the rig. Pt. was conscious, loopy, mis-answering orientation questions, but thoroughly and smilingly cooperative, right down to the lacing fingers over the chest and obeying even the smallest instruction. He was found seated in a wheelchair acting limb and head restless with non-seizure behavior similar to Turette's Syndrome. What are good alternative ways to CYA for a possible concealed when you're under a no hands on searching patient if not a life threat absolute standing employer order? He wore baggy, "Fat Albert" pants belted at the thighs, and a low hung oversized T-shirt. You know that inner city gang look. All he was missing was a do-rag. Gun wasn't found until hospital arrival bed transfer in the ER. Fire paramedics missed it too. We as a service are allowed no weapons or defensive gear of any kind in this part of Minnesota on the reservation. Thanks for useful views and no thanks for the Neanderthalish stupid ones from the peni-- excuse me, peanut gallery.

It's out. Season Two. DVD. Book mark this site. It's the official release newsblog for the show. http://www.tvshowsondvd.com/newsitem.cfm?NewsID=4545 Come on everybody. Admit it. This show's fun. Even if you can pick it apart to the bare bones. I can see a lot of folks with these characters' personalities at my work and even here on all the forums. Emergency's flavor's eternal they say. That's why we're so danged nostalgic. This one tiny show was the comic book strip of our future, current and past EMS lives more often than not. There's practically no one my age in the business who doesn't smile at it. They almost always invariably do the epi caps pop maneuver in a salute to it just yakking in casual conversation. I actually think this 1970's program helped create paramedics in this country. Wanna treat? This from the viewpoint of a cast member the day they drove Engine 51 across country to promote the series. Kinda cool. Enjoy.. Fun reading for all.. NATION VIEWED FROM A PUMPER Los Angeles County F.D. crew promotes paramedic program and finds adventure in 4000-mile tour from New York to West Coast studio -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BY DICK FRIEND Community Relations Director Los Angeles County Fire Department -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A police car pulled up alongside us at 5th Avenue and 59th Street in New York. Mike Stoker, our driver, leaned out the window and asked, "Which way to the Freeway?" "You mean the Expressway?" one of the policemen asked. "No. The San Diego Freeway." The policeman looked at the side of our brand new Ward LaFrance pumper. "ENGINE 51 LOS ANGELES COUNTY FIRE DEPARTMENT." He smiled. "Hey! You guys are really lost!" And he drove away, shaking his head in amusement. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why did we do it and how did we do it? Universal Studios was on its spring "hiatus" when they almost totally shutdown production of any series -- it's vacation for them. As the article says, Ward LaFrance was extremely upset that the engine featured was a Crown -- which at one time, was about 75% of the fleet here. Bob Cinader got the idea for a cross-country sell job for the paramedic program, and of course, for the new TV show "Emergency!" NBC said GO and Bob asked me to arrange a trip. Fire Chief Richard Houts was a bit skeptical, but said (as he always did when he wanted something to move ahead): "Make it work." He anointed me to work with NBC but cautioned that there could be NO expense to the department. Bob put me in touch with someone in NBC New York and I was given a list of so-called NBC cities where Emergency! was very important to them. I got out a road map and started plotting (during the evenings at home on my living room floor). During conversations with NBC, I said we should have a full crew of four, but the only "star" available of course (because of the hiatus at the studio) was Mike Stoker, now working back at his boring regular job as a fire apparatus engineer. Cinader told me to select the crew (as did the chief). Naturally, Stoker was one. I picked Michael Stearns, one of the six original P/Ms who was a good friend. But he had just been promoted to captain. Cinader (and my chief) didn't care. That was three (with me). I suggested and Cinader, the chief and both Mikes agreed; it had to be Ed McFall, a graduate of the second or third class of P/Ms. Ed had personality plus (like Bill Cosby) and was a damn good P/M to boot. Besides (this may seem racist), Ed was black and we were trying to promote the image of equality out here in our department. I drove down to FS 9 and met with Ed. He thought for all of 2 seconds, called his wife, and he was a part of our team. I made and remade the map and NBC would make additions and deletions. Finally, they agreed to our route, and I wrote letters from Chief Houts to EVERY f.d. along the route, explaining that (1) we were due in their city to put on a demo for the local NBC TV station or (2) we were going across the country to promote the FD/paramedic program and needed a place to stay, keep the engine, and work with them whatever they wanted (or didn't want to do). Almost all the chiefs responded immediately, with a positive answer. The four of us decided that we would always be in uniform when on E51 or in public. The studio loaned us four wardrobe chests (large cardboard containers like steamer trunks) to hold our clothes for nearly a month, and flew them back to NYC ahead of our arrival. Many of the fire chiefs told Chief Houts that they could house our apparatus and us or they could house just the apparatus, or house just us. I responded to each one and made the itinerary. This all took place in less than 3 weeks. The big day arrived; we had shipped all of our worldly goods via TWA to New York; Stoker left on a Friday night, a day before us, to go from NYC to Elmira NY to pick up E51 and bring it to NYC. The three of us arrived in NYC at 7 p.m. Saturday night and were met by a limo with an NBC public relations guy, and Stoker! We went out for dinner, had a few drinks, laughed, and wondered what the hell we were doing? We had no credit cards to pay for stuff, but NBC had given each of us $50 per day cash for 30 days ahead. We didn't even know how we were going to pay for fuel? Sunday morning. Our engine was stored for the night at a NYC hospital. It was near our hotel so we picked it up (we were wearing grungy civilian clothes because we were going to spend Sunday cleaning the apparatus). Stoker drove, as previously arranged by me, to NYC's "Super Pumper" station in the Bronx. We arrived at about 9 a.m., and NO ONE even made an attempt to greet us. Finally, the lieutenant in charge of their super pumper came out, opened the apparatus doors and we backed in amidst a whole bunch of NYC fire engines. Not one ff came out to see what the hell we were doing -- all the way from L.A. Talk about blasé!!!!! We looked around for buckets and cleaning material and finally located some. We were washing away when they got an alarm and left. They returned in about 10 minutes. The truck company was parked next to us….we had to move our bodies so it could back in, that close.. yet not one of the ff on the truck company said "boo." We just didn't exist. A NYC Ambulance arrived and a young doctor told us he was our victim for our Rockefeller Center demo the next morning. We went over the scenario and they left. The lieutenant finally told us that we did not have permission to keep the engine there that night! It turns out, I had written (for the chief) to the NYC fire chief; I should have written to the NYC Fire Commissioner, so, in fact, we didn't exist! The doors opened and a chief's car backed in. It was a division chief or something. He did not acknowledge us. I finally told the lieutenant when we cleaned our rig, we were leaving (I didn't honestly know for where) and he was very upset and said "just keep it here. I'll take the heat." We didn't want that to happen. We called the doctor and he said to bring it back to the hospital where we had stored it the night before -- and we did. We also had checked out of our hotel because we thought they were very rude to Ed (our black ff/pm) during breakfast at the hotel. There we were: homeless in NYC!! We went to another hotel, drove up in front, and all of us went in and I checked us into two rooms. They were very hospitable (we were not in uniform) and the manager who was at the desk, welcomed us and said to park our "car" in their underground garage. With that, the bell captain ran across the lobby shouting: "No. They are driving a fire engine." They opened the Jacuzzi for us, treated us royally. We enjoyed our second night. Cross-country trip This was the start of a cross-country trip to promote paramedics and the NBC TV series "Emergency." Many people have asked us what compelled four fairly sane Los Angeles County fire fighters to undertake such a trip (Mike Stoker, who drives the Ward on "Emergency," two fire fighter paramedics, Ed McFall and Captain Mike Stearns, and myself). The answer sounds corny, but it's true. We all believe in the paramedic program of emergency medical care, and we all thought that the tour would be an effective way of telling people across the country about paramedics. Also we thought it would be fun--which it was. The story started back in February when the producers of "Emergency," a TV series about the LA County Fire Department paramedic program, decided to reshoot all their fire apparatus stock footage at a cost of about $50,000. The reason for this decision was the delivery of 46 Ward LaFrance Ambassador pumpers to LA County earlier in the year. This delivery made the Ward rig the most frequently seen fire apparatus in the country. Therefore, the producers felt that, for authenticity's sake, the "stock footage fire engine" should be a Ward. Ward LaFrance, in Elmira Heights, N.Y., agreed to provide a pumper and the cross-country delivery suggested a coast-to-coast promotional tour. We traveled over 4000 miles to cities with NBC TV stations. Fifth Avenue demonstration On our first day on the job in New York City, NBC told us we were going to put on a paramedic demonstration with New York Hospital's paramedic team "in front of anybody who walks along the street in front of Rockefeller Center." By the time we began our demonstration, a fairly large crowd had gathered, including some photographers and TV cameramen. A paramedic trainee simulated cardiac arrest and, talking to a doctor at New York Hospital on our biophone (a two-way transmitter), we bought him "back to life" by following the treatment the doctor prescribed. We could tell that the spectators were impressed. What impressed us most, however, were the many people who walked by and, although they saw the fire engine, the ambulance, and four men working on a prostrate body, they didn't even stop to see what was wrong. That shook us up a little. NYC wasn't all THAT bad. After our demo on the street, we went to the FD Training Center on Angel Island. We were riding on "the fumes" and you couldn't find diesel fuel in the city. We made it in time and were met by a "classic" NYC assistant fire chief who was a gentleman and a great guy. He took our engine and had it refueled and took us in for coffee and to show us a scale model of HIS new training center to be built shortly. We were impressed: he liked us! The FD was not interested in the p.m. program, but they had invited scads of neighboring FDs and hospital people for a demo; I think we did three. When it was time for us to leave to head off for Baltimore, it was rush hour traffic. The chief called a training captain, told us that he lived on our route (on Staten Island) and if we took him home, he would show us short cuts to avoid miserable traffic. We agreed. The captain called his wife and when we arrived at his home, there were sandwiches, refreshments and a bevy of little kids there to greet us! We stayed for an hour and had a very enjoyable time. His neighbor climbed the fence and joined us; he also was a NYC fire captain. We finally mentioned something about our previous day at the super pumper station: they were furious and apologetic! We left and arrived after dark in Baltimore and following my directions, wound up at a vacant lot. While trying to figure where we had gone wrong, a car pulled alongside. It was two members of the local fire buff club and they escorted us to "6 Engine." One of the wife's of the four guys on duty had baked a big cake with Engine 51 on it. It was about 10 p.m., but they called their wives and they joined us. We were sitting on the tailboard (in the kitchen!!) eating cake when the alarm bells clanged away. In 2 seconds their rig was out. We tried to figure out on their alarm system where they were, but couldn't. Anyway, they came back in 5 minutes, it was a false box alarm. We had a peaceful and quiet nite, however. The next day we were met by an assistant chief who escorted us downtown to a nice restaurant where we met with some local medical people and TV writers for the two local papers. Good informative lunch. We took the TV writers back to their newspapers on E51. Talk about GOOD P.R!! This may be out of sequence, but… We had to drive for about 5 hours to get to Pittsburgh and originally had been slated to go to the Grant Hotel a block from a major Pittsburgh fire station. We were to sleep at the hotel and E51 was to sleep at the station. But the day prior to this, we received a message from NBC (I made daily phone contact with NBC in New York for any changes). Do not go to Pittsburgh first. Stop at (I won't name the city) about 30 minutes from Pittsburgh and you will be met by the volunteer assistant fire chief. Keep your engine in their station. So we arrived, were met by a lot of people (no band, however) and felt very welcome. The assistant chief (AC) loaded us into his station wagon and gave us a tour of their city (we were tired as hell and didn't need it, but….) and told us his wife would take all of our laundry home and do it. We declined this!!! He delivered us to a large motel which looked great. Until we checked in (he had gone). We were in uniform. The older woman at the desk wanted to know who was going to "sleep" with whom and in which rooms. I handled all this kind of stuff and told her it made no difference. She was insistent she know who was in which room so I paired up Stoker and McFall and Stearns and myself, and used my own credit card to pay. A large sign outside advertised that a famous singing group was appearing; but it turned out they hadn't changed the sign since that group left three months ago. And the "heated swim pool" had been empty for months. As we made our way along some very long corridors to our rooms, two "ladies," wearing very short skirts, high heels and lots of lipstick, muttered loudly as they passed us: "Wow. They let anyone in here now!" They were looking mostly at Ed. As we got to our rooms, I asked Stearns if he had heard this. Yes, he had. Stoker and McFall hit their room and we ours. In 2 minutes, I announced: "We're out of here!" Being loyal firefighters (and obedient), they got up and we marched to the front desk. Luckily, the older lady was gone and a cute young thing spotted Stoker and came apart. I told her there had been a mistake and we were leaving and please tear up the credit card bill. She did. We asked her where SHE would stay if she were downtown and she named the hotel where we originally had been slated. She telephoned them and they had lots of room. We got a taxi and drove 20 miles into town. I called NBC and said we needed transportation the next a.m. back to (unknown name) city to pick up E51. The hotel opened their steam room for us and we hit the sack early. At 6 a.m., a driver in a limo picked up Mike, took him back to the volunteer station and we retrieved our engine. We spent the entire day at the Pittsburgh training center putting on demos for dozens and dozens of fire officers from throughout that part of the state as well as EMS people. We kept our engine at the adjacent Pittsburgh station that night!!! As we left the station the next morning, their dispatch center came onto their PA alarm system with an announcement wishing us a safe trip and a great day and great trip. We were impressed. When we reached Baltimore, we drove to Station 6, built in 1799. It is a historic site -- the oldest station still in use at its original location. Fire apparatus must have been a lot smaller in 1799. Our engine cleared the sides of the station entrance by 2 or 3 inches on either side. Chief Thomas Burke gave us a plaque commemorating our visit and we gave him a certificate that made Engine 6 in Baltimore station of the LA County Fire Department. We told him that Engine 6 will not be expected to respond to all extra alarms. He agreed. In Pittsburgh, we were welcomed at the fire academy by Chief Thomas J. Kennelly. Then we performed two demonstrations, one inside and then another outside. That was because the academy hall could hold only about half the people who had turned up to see our show. It really excited us to know that so many people are interested in the work we are doing. The Big Voyage While in Pittsburgh, we did a "BIG SHOW" at a horse race track outside of town. We arrived in E51 about sundown, after the 3rd race I think. We were led down onto the track and after the next race was over, we responded ON the track (red lights and siren) around the entire track and stopped in front of the grandstands (which were packed with people). We had brought with us a local and very popular noon-time radio personality. We got off the rig, and they had a small stage set up. He introduced us to thousands of people and then did a short interview with each of us (we were now used to this). We explained our "mission" and of course, plugged Emergency! The crowd seemed very interested and gave us a thundering round of applause. We left and were escorted to the track owner's box where we were fed a great dinner. Because we were bushed and thirsty, we all took off our badges and stuffed them into our pockets so we could enjoy a cool beer (or two). Stoker didn't drink (designated driver!!). We had a blast, the owner joined us, and Ed made about $100 on the ponies. The owner said that every Saturday they had some kind of "entertainment," often paratroopers, fireworks, etc., but that WE had drawn the biggest applause so far in the season. We took this with a grain of salt, and another beer. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somewhere about this time, we were on one of our rare 8-hour drive days. Just get from one place to another with no scheduled "appearances." We were on one of the interstate highways and it was warm and we were all half asleep. Stoker swung off the freeway and drove slowly thru this very little country town. We became instantly awake and alert and waved at a lot of very confused and puzzled residents wondering what the hell an L.A. Co.F.D. fire truck was doing there. Back on the freeway and we saw a car on the other side of the roadway with smoke/stream pouring from it. A couple of (we called them hippies then) were staring into the engine compartment. Mike pulled to a stop 8 lanes across from the car and Ed and I ran across to see what was going on. Fortunately, it was overheated, because we had no way in the world to put out a fire. We had no hose, no water, not even a fire extinguisher! As we walked up, the two young guys looked at us, turned and saw the engine and said: "What the hell are you doing here and where did you come from?" We told them we had been sent to a car fire even though it "was a bit out of our district." They appreciated our concern, but said they had a jug of water for the radiator in their car trunk. We continued on. Not more than 30 minutes later, we came across an empty car parked on the shoulder and soon after saw a young guy walking up the freeway. A long way from any town. We stopped and asked if he wanted a ride. He couldn't believe it. He got in, very excited and puzzled, and we took him 3 or 4 miles to the next off-ramp and into a gas station. He probably still is trying to convince his friends that an L.A. Co. engine -- AND Engine 51 -- picked him up out in the middle of the "sticks." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We were headed for Cincinatti on Easter Sunday. Beautiful day and we got an early start for an 8-hour drive. We needed fuel and there were no gas stations open along the interstate. We finally saw an open one and pulled into it. NO DIESEL. But the guy directed us to go down a narrow side road about a mile to a little town (I think we were in Ohio at that point). So we went. Small town? YES. A small café, a post office, a little store (closed) and a two-pump gas station (no office or building) with a very old man with coveralls sitting in a chair in front of the pumps. We pulled up and he just stared. We climbed off and he slowly walked over and just looked at E51. Finally , he said: "My God. I wouldn't believe it. E51 is SO BIG. How much did it cost?" We told him we didn't know and he said he was on the local volunteer FD and they never could afford anything like this. We asked him if he wanted a ride. He really did, but couldn't leave the station. While we were pumping in our fuel, a teenaged girl from the café came over. She saw Mike and got flustered and finally mumbled that the woman who owned the café would like for us to join them for ice cream. We did. There were about 3 or 4 other people in the café and they just stared at us as we went in. It was chilly and we were in our turnouts. We had some great ice cream and the young girl followed us back to the engine. As we started to pull away, she looked up at Mike and said: "This is the happiest day of my life. Thank you for stopping here." We all damn near cried. It was a lengthy drive and as the sun started to set, we were in the Cincinatti subburbs and almost out of fuel again. We came across a fire station, but it was volunteer and no one around. The fuel gauge was bobbing on "E". We were heading down a slight hill in a very busy part of town on a busy traffic night and the engine conked out. Mike did a remarkable job of steering clear of any other cars and we made it to the curb… but didn't know where the heck we were. We got out and looked around. There was a boarded up brick building right next to us. I took my "Bible" to a phone booth across the highway and was calling the CFD dispatcher when the doors opened on this boarded up building and there was a fire truck inside!!!!! It was a CFD fire station!!! The guys yelled at me and I ran over. Their captain and three other ffs looked strangely at us, our engine, and was questioning our crew when I got over from the phone booth. I showed them a letter from THEIR chief. The captain called the dispatch center and decided we were safe. Their station was in a riot zone and had been shot at, blasted at, you name it and they thought we were some kind of decoy coming to steal them away!!! They had diesel and Mike rolled the rig into their station and we refueled. Meanwhile, a CFD rescue squad arrived to escort us downtown. When we pulled up in front of their headquarters, who was standing on the apparatus apron but the one and only Mickey Michaels! I had called several days earlier and said we were running out of IV bottles for demos. So, Mickey flew them back, as well as himself. He rode with us for most of the way home. Both Kansas Cities visited We arrived at Station 2 in Kansas City, Mo., just in time to participate in a mini documentary that Station WDAF was doing on emergency medical services. After spending some time at the Blue Ridge Shopping Center the next day, we headed for the Indian Springs Shopping Center in Kansas City, Kansas. Getting there was a hair-raising experience with an escort of fire chiefs' cars, police motorcycles, and innocent motorists who got trapped in our convoy, we "responded" at 60 mph down the highway with sirens and lights going full blast -- something we rarely do in Los Angeles. And to make things worse, once we got into Kansas City, Kansas, we kept this pace up through some narrow streets. The whole adventure really scared the heck out of us. World Famous "KC Shrimp" We had just pulled the rig into Kansas City's downtown headquarters and walked a half block to our hotel. We "assembled" all of our wash and wear uniforms and stuff and Stoker had laundry call so he was off to the corner Laundromat. The phone rang and it was a TV station telling us they were sending a crew to the FS and wanted to shoot us doing "our thing." We had enough portions of uniforms to clothe the three of us and we were met at the station by this film crew. We recruited a KC ff to be our victim and another that knew CPR to help, in Stoker's absence. It went well. The ff crew was quite mysterious but invited us to join them for dinner at the station at 6 p.m. sharp, and there were to be no demos or anything so wear civvies. We complied and were led a block down the street to a tiny tavern. We entered escorted by the fire chief's driver (also not in uniform) and we were greeted by a couple dozen shouting, happy off-duty ffs who already had been celebrating a bit. There was a big banner welcoming us to KC. The driver was part owner of this tavern which was very popular with the local ff crews. Not only did we have plenty of liquid refreshments, but at last 5 tons (it seems) of fantastic shrimp and other goodies. We enjoyed ourselves!! Our St. Louis adventure was one we later tried to forget. We kept our engine at the FD downtown headquarters station. Our itinerary called for a dinner courtesy of NBC at the local NBC TV studio, to be joined by the SL fire chief. The department took us to the building and a local NBC exec greeted us and led us up to a very nice conference room, with a well stocked bar! Another man waved us over and told us to order anything our hearts' desired. We were in uniform (with badges!) and we do not drink in uniform. Especially because we were going back to the FD HQ and have an informal get together with the families of any ffs who wanted to be there to climb on and take pix of E51. We all had a Coke. This wasn't a real "ice breaker," to say the least. We were starving! We went into the conference room and sat around a big table which had lots of tiny goodies and munchies -- great stuff to go along with a drink! But not a Coke! We were wondering when they would serve the real dinner. The chief and his driver arrived and we sensed that the chief was not too happy about being there, but obviously thought it "politically correct" in order to stay on the good side of the TV station. He shook everyone's hand, studied each of our badges, and pulled up a chair next to me (I was the only one with a gold badge and he was looking for someone that might approach his status (as the chief) a little). He had a couple drinks and got talking about our trip. The chief loosened up and we were having a great time when the driver got a radio call advising them of a second alarm fire. The chief told him to have another red car dispatched to the station and I would respond with the chief in his car and the rest of the E51 crew would follow in the second car. By the time we got to the curb, the second red car had arrived --but they cancelled the assignment; the fire had been knocked down so our SL fire response dissolved. Oh well, it turns out the munchies we had and the drinks we didn't WAS the promised gourmet banquet. We went to the HQ, followed by the chief. There were 30-40 people there and when we all walked in, the place fell deadly silent. The fire chief summoned everyone around and gave us a lengthy and "glowing" intro. We did our talk then stood with kids and others to have photos taken next to E51. The chief's driver slid up next to me and said something to the effect that he had been driving the chief for years and he NEVER had seen him so gracious and having "such a great time" as with us! In fact, he said the chief hadn't actually been "on the floor" for years. He must have stayed there for an hour. NBC had us do the "shopping center" routine (which we detested) the next day. We went way out into the suburbs to a new center and "set up" in the parking lot. There were maybe two dozen cars in the entire lot, if that many. No one came over to see why we were even there! The weather was turning nasty, with a very cold wind and we put on our turnout coats in an attempt to keep warm. At about noon, a fire engine pulled up and it was the neighboring volunteer f.d. crew (2 guys and a beautiful pumper). They had seen us and at first thought there was some kind of incident until they got close enough to see it was E51. We chatted and they went over to a fast food place and got us lunch, which they paid for. At about 1 p.m., I decided this was it. I put in a call (collect) to NBC New York and told them we were outta there. We had talked to practically no one, and after arriving in the morning, never saw another NBC person. They had just shoved us out to pasture, we figured. So off we went…… the volunteer crew was still there and they helped us find our way to the highway. Goodbye St. Louis. Indianapolis was one stop we will never forget. We arrived at about 3 p.m. at the HQ station and after the "greetings," for the first time all went our own way. I had to get a haircut, the others had some shopping, or whatever, and said we would meet back at HQ at about 5:30. When I returned, the guy on "floor watch" suggested I go next door… to a bar. He said Stoker had just gone over and he would send McFall and Stearns over when they showed up. I walked in to be greeted by a very burly bouncer. He sent me down a flight of stairs and there were a bunch of little rooms like a hotel, with several gorgeously clad ladies sitting on a sofa in the "parlor." Two were talking to Stoker… and he was his usual charming self, smiling from ear to ear. But I noticed he was slowly backing up and I walked up to him. He said something that it was really nice meeting "you" to the girls and took my shoulder and said "but we gotta go." Yep. It was one of those places. Even though the "entertainment" was to have been free to us visiting firemen, we decided to pass. As we emerged, our compatriots were approaching and after hearing our story, they also decided to forgo the evening out on the town. We entered the station and the floor watch guy ushered us out onto a large loading dock at the rear of the station. About 10 or 11 ff were sitting there, most with bottles of beer. Heck, we were off duty and in civvies so we joined them. After a while, they got an alarm. We were scrambling to get our turnout coats and helmets when we were told to climb aboard any rig. I was in the cab of the truck company, and we were racing down a dark, narrow street in an industrial part of town. As we approached an intersection, the radio blurted out: "Truck 1. You are approaching First and Main (or some streets)!" The lieutenant acknowledged then told me that Truck 1 had slammed into a car at THAT corner a couple months back. Very reassuring. The dispatcher cancelled us but we kept going. We got to the fire which had been knocked down, but the HQ guys wanted us to walk around with our L.A. County F.D. turnouts and helmets on to confuse the heck out of the other fire crews that were on scene. It worked. We had fun, too. Navigation duty shared We shared the responsibility for navigation by giving that job for the day to whoever was in the captain's seat. This division of duties resulted in some interested detours and some extremely colorful language. As we arrived at the fire station on South Ogden Street in Denver at night, it began to snow. That was a treat for us Californians, but the local guys just saw it as a nuisance. We pulled up to the front of the Denver fire station (a beautiful, brand new station just out of the downtown area) during evening rush hour traffic. The guys were expecting us and some ran across traffic all pointing and one dragging a C02 fire extinguisher! I was "captain" and they ran to the engine and pointed to where I was sitting, above the right front wheel. Smoke was coming out of a small blower built into the body. This blower provides a little cooling for some of the hydraulic system. It apparently had frozen up and the poor little motor was trying to turn anyway and was just burning up. One blast of C02 took care of that. We pulled in and in about 10 minutes, a f.d. mechanic showed up, WITH a new unit for us. They also had some Ward LaFrance rigs and had some spare parts. It soon started to snow and we stood with our noses pressed to the windows as the guys prepared a great dinner. They thought we were surely nuts, but we Southern Californians weren't used to that "pretty" white fluffy stuff. (We soon learned to live with it though!) This station was unique to us. There was no common dorm. A series of two-person rooms were on the perimeter of the station, and the truck, engine and rescue crews were on separate alarm systems. If just the engine was to roll, the other guys could sleep right through it in their own rooms. They had "reserved" two adjacent rooms for us. Though OUR alarms didn't go off, we heard the entire station depart about 2 a.m. And it soon got COLD. I jumped out of bed, and in my underwear and bare feet, went out to see the station empty AND all doors wide open. It was snowing and windy and freezing (at least to us). I studied the alarm panel for a second or two and pushed a couple buttons and the doors closed. We then wondered how they would get back in, especially if we fell asleep. But they did. Denver Fire Chief Merle Wise greeted us early and escorted us to another station across town. It was still snowing. The chief had assembled a lot of key people from city and county government. There was a "battle" going on and some department (not fire) wanted the paramedic program for itself. Chief Wise was determined that it was and had to be a FD program. We later went on a TV interview show with the Chief and a city councilman, and in fact, were up til about 10 p.m. greeting important people whom the chief had invited over to talk with us and get a better picture of our paramedics. Chief Wise was elected president of the International Assn. of Fire Chiefs several years later and I feel confident his efforts expedited the paramedic program in the nation's fire service. After our harrowing drive down miles of icy highway, we arrived in sunny Grand Junction, CO. We had no scheduled demos and were to keep our engine at a fire station on the edge of the town, and we were sleeping in a Ramada Inn across the street. The station was deserted when we arrived so we parked in front of our motel, got our rooms, and got ready for laundry call. Stoker and I "were up" for that chore. We were gone an hour or so and when we came back, the receptionist told us the guys at the FS were back. Stoker took the rig over. I looked around for McFall and Stearns and found them IN THE BAR entertaining the few bar patrons who were there at 5 p.m. Stoker and I joined them and as we had nothing scheduled, and because we were recovering from a hair-raising trip down the mountains, we too helped dazzle the patrons with stories of heroism and bravery!! Finally, and mercifully, we were rescued, by the fd crew across the street. Their chief had asked if we would drive to the HQ and let all the ff's kids and families see E51. We really were in no condition, but duty was duty. We went to the rear of the station and there were about 75 people there. We JUST HAD TO do a real demo, even though we didn't have uniforms on. We stood in the hose bed and told of our trip and of Emergency! and of paramedics and firefighters and anything and everything else, as I recall. It was terrific (we think) but lots of photos were taken and we had people crawling all over the engine and hugging and kissing us (well almost). At about 9 p.m., we remembered that we had not eaten dinner so took off for a nearby McDonalds -- followed by a caravan of 2 or 3 dozen cars!!! We sat on the rig and devoured our Big Macs and chatted and talked and signed autographs, etc etc etc. What a night. Salt Lake City was uneventful. Pleasant, we did some sight seeing, but neither the department nor NBC had anything for us to do. In fact, by mistake, we went to FD HQ initially, and they didn't even know why we were in town. But after someone in the office made a couple phone calls, we were directed to a very large station near the Mormon Temple. Next day was a pure drive day: destination Las Vegas. But just outside Provo, UT, we threw a section of drive shaft and chugged to a stop on the interstate. I tried to reach anyone with the portable radio we had taken along, but to no avail. In fact, we only had one response during our entire portion of the trip and that was a f.d. in Ohio that also used our frequency. (They were surprised when I told them who we were and in their state). We could see a small town across a large grassy field and Stoker and I hoofed it over there (about a mile). We were in uniform and approached a young man washing down the front of a service station. I asked him if we could use a phone. He motioned us to his boss, who promptly declined, even though I said we would call collect. "Nope." Several blocks down the street a large crowd had gathered to watch a bulldozer demolish a building. We walked by (to where I don't know) and there was a Utah State Trooper and his car watching the demolition. He got out and headed toward us. We told him our plight and he took us to "his station," a one-room locked office 4 blocks away, and told us to use whatever we wanted. I called NBC New York, and Ward LaFrance in Elmira. They said to sit tight at the engine (what else could we do). The trooper took us back and said he would check on us periodically, which he did. In an hour, the trooper returned with a middle aged, rather large woman, and introduced her to us; she was the mayor of that little town and brought us some fruit she had just picked. She could see us from her kitchen window over a mile away. At about that time, a large tow truck arrived and told us the SLC fire department had arranged for us to be towed to Provo to a truck repair garage. SLC FD contracted with that garage to do major repairs, such as putting drive-shafts together!! Talk about luck. It was Saturday and the garage normally closed at noon, but they stayed open for us. In three hours, we were on our way. The owner was a bit confused as to how he was going to get paid, but I promised him that Ward LaFrance would pay him and he trusted me. And he did get paid. Because of our unscheduled delay, and snowy weather, we knew we could not make it to Vegas. We stopped for fuel in Fillmore and the two guys in the gas station didn't even come out when we pulled in. I went in and they were looking out the windows (through the falling snow) at us. I told them we needed diesel and they directed us to a pump at the rear of the station. I was the on-call fuel jockey, so pumped away while the other three went next door to a café. When the tank was full, I went next door and they were sitting in a booth (in turnout coats). We could not get anyone to wait on us. The place was very busy with travelers escaping the drive, but even after saying "Oh, miss," or whatever, to several waitresses, we determined that they didn't want us there!!! We left after about 20-25 minutes of staring at everyone. Again, we decided that they were not accustomed to seeing white and black guys together. Poor souls. But, the plot "thickened." As we walked back to the gas station, a rather new sedan pulled in with NO LIGHTS on. A male driver alighted and was obviously shaken. In the front seat was his mother, a woman probably in her 70s. Something was wrong with the car and the lights suddenly would all go out and the motor turn off and then come back on. He was in near panic but he was at last someplace where he could get assistance. Wrong! The guys in the station did not and would not come out in the cold to offer help. Ed went to the engine and got a couple of tools and we determined that a battery cable was loose and it would connect and disconnect. We tightened it down and that seemed to do the trick, and the guy and his mother left. They were both extremely thankful. We got on the fire engine and one of the gas station guys came out and swore at us for "taking away his repair business. You guys just cheated me out of ten or fifteen bucks." We got the heck out of there. We arrived in St. George in the snow at midnight and saw one very large motel with a Vacancy sign. We pulled under their large driveway ramp to get out of the snow and I went in and rented their last two rooms. We asked if it was ok to leave the engine there, because it was out of the snow and would not block their entrance in any way. "Nope." Poor E51 sat out in the snow all night. But we were comfy and warm -- and upset with a lot of people. Before we left Denver, we were cleared to go through the Loveland Tunnel. We were pretty happy about that because otherwise we would have had to go over the 11,000-foot grade of Lowland Pass in the snow -- with no chains. What no one told us was that the road on the far side of the tunnel hadn't been cleared, and we skidded and slid about 7 miles when we got out the other side. It was pretty scary -- none of us is really experienced in driving on snowy, icy roads, so we took it slow and easy. It was also very cold, but luckily we all had our long underwear on. An Unexpected visitor Sunday was a nice day when we left St. George UT. And in a couple of hours, we pulled into Las Vegas. Remember: this was Las Vegas of 1973. The "strip" was removed from the main portion of town. My "Bible" showed that we were to stay at FS 1, and low and behold, we stumbled across it just as we got into town. We pulled around back and a ff was washing down a chief's sedan. We stopped, climbed off, stretched, and he came over and inquired as to why we were there. I told him we had made arrangements to keep the fire engine there and he went in and got his captain. It was a surprise to all, but they welcomed us. We talked a bit and told them NBC had made reservations for us on the strip (I think it was the Tropicana). They offered us the red sedan to use, but we politely declined, and I called the NBC p.r.gal at home. She came right out and took our luggage and us to the hotel. Wow. We were in Vegas. AND, both Mike Stearns' wife and Ed's wife had flown in to be with their hubbies. Stoker and I shared a room and while we changed into summer clothes, the phone rang. It was the Clark Co. Nevada FD really "pissed off." Someone had seen us at the fire station and told them. It turned out we were supposed to be at the Clark Co. FS 1 about two blocks from our hotel. I had no clue that the Vegas strip was not protected by the Las Vegas FD. We learned fast. We went to the pool and in 15 minutes two Clark Co. FD captains showed up and insisted we move the fire engine. We joked about it but they were mad. We told them we would move it tomorrow and they left. We later learned of the tremendous rivalry between the two agencies. NBC wined and dined us at a Tropicana show and we had a much needed and relaxing night. Monday was our last "show biz" day and we started off outside a very large, new enclosed shopping mall. It was busy. Stoker and I stationed ourselves at the front of E51 and Stearns and McFall at the tailboard displaying all our paramedic gear. Just before noon, a young guy with a scraggly beard, rather long hair and shorts came up and was clicking away with his camera. He had been over on Stoker's side. He came to me and pointed the camera at my face -- from all of a foot away! He took a picture and when he lowered his camera, it was the one and only Randolph Mantooth. Johnny Gage, right there in person. He whispered that he had been harassing Stoker but Mike had not recognized him. I told Randy to climb in the cab and start messing around with all kinds of switches, knobs, etc. Which he did. I motioned to Stoker and told him that "some guy is messing around in the cab and get him out." Good ol' courteous Stoker. He asked the guy politely several times to stop and Randy just kept throwing switches. He finally asked him, again quite politely to get out. Randy kept on. He walked right to the captain's side and told the guy to get the hell out of the engine. Randy turned, let out a blood-curdling scream and leaped at Stoker, practically knocking him down. It was only then that Mike realized who the heck this was. Stearns and McFall had run up to see what was occurring. We all rolled around the ground laughing. The NBC p.r. gal lady showed up, told us to secure the engine, and she was taking us in the mall for lunch. She did not recognize Randy either. Randy and his brother and his brother's girl friend all had been camping and hiking for about 3 weeks. When they were getting dressed in the morning, they heard a radio announcement about E51 being at the mall -- and just had to come. I introduced the p.r. lady to Randy and she just about fainted she was so excited, and of course, invited Randy and his friends for lunch. We started for the mall door and Randy told me he couldn't go in. "Why," I naturally inquired. "I just got thrown out of there," he said, because he didn't have a shirt on. I told him to go to the car and get his shirt and I waited for him. He was between Stoker and me when we went in, past two security guards, the ones that had escorted him out just 20 minutes ago. They stared at us, but did 't come over. Randy wanted us to take him to them so he could "straighten them out," but we all thought better of that idea. Lunch was fun… I did a live radio show on a station with a studio in the mall. And then the p.r. gal drove me to a TV station where I was to be interviewed on a live afternoon program. I met the host at the studio and we talked briefly what I was to say. Not much, it turned out. But I had no equipment to show, no nothing. It was about 15 minutes until air time and there was a phone on the wall so I called the Clark Co. Fire Dispatcher. Their rescue squad had come to our shopping mall "display," and it was still there when I left for the TV studio. The dispatcher said, yes, indeed, their squad was there. I told her to have E51 RESPOND to the studio. In several minutes (with about 5 to go for show time) I could hear E51 coming, Code R, led by the squad. I had told the prop man and he had put two more chairs on the set and opened the back doors. The guys pulled up and I directed them to quickly unload the gear and put it on the set and to take the seats. I stood idly by as the host returned, not knowing what was going on. I quickly introduced him to the crew, and he was delighted to have some props to play with. They went ON THE AIR -- and I watched from the sidelines. As usual, the guys did a terrific job. Of course, they had no clue as to what I was doing -- or not doing -- but that's the way ffs work. Just Do It. They did have a few things to say to me after the show was done, but they were out of time: no more days to get back at Dick Friend. As we crossed into Los Angeles County at the San Bernardino County border, I put in a radio call: "L.A. This is Engine 51. Back in our own district and returning to quarters." Unfortunately, it was not Sam Lanier's shift, but the duty dispatch captain answered simply: "10-4, Engine 51. Welcome home." A few minutes we received a message via radio: "Engine 51. Report to Klinger Center (this is our headquarters). The chief engineer requests you advise when you are 5 minutes out." When we pulled up at HQ, Chief Houts, the entire "top staff" and most everyone in HQ was out in front to greet us. It was quite a welcome!! Chief Houts said he had received phone calls and letters from chiefs along the way. "Well, most of them thought you did a pretty good job," he said. Then he patted us all on our backs and said we must have dazzled the nation because he had never received such glowing reports. We were pleased -- that he was pleased. It was our last stop from home -- fabled Las Vegas, NV. The local radio station was inviting listeners to come on out and see the crew on famous Emergency!s Engine 51 which was to be outside a brand new shopping mall near The Strip on Monday morning. We arrived at 10, and set up as usual for such a stint. Paramedic gear on display, with Mike Stearns and Ed at the tailboard with the EMS stuff. Stoker and I were at the front to greet people and answer questions. Quite a few visitors, but one kept taking MY picture. He was a young guy with a fuzzy beard, no shirt, cut off blue jeans and a weird hat. Finally, he got to within about 2 feet of me, aimed his camera at my face and said: "Smile, Dick." It was Randolph Mantooth: Randy. He and friends had been camping and backpacking and heard the blurb on the radio so came over. He was surprised that no one recognized him, until I told him what he really looked like with his whiskers, scruffy clothes, etc. I asked him to jump up into the cab and start playing with all the switches, controls and knobs. He did. I went to Stoker and told him some character was messing around in the cab and to get him out. Mike strolled to the open door -- not recognizing our "intruder" either. "Hey, pal. Please don't do that." Click, Click, click. Randy kept playing with the switches. "You'll have to get out of there if you keep that up," Mike warned. Click, click, pull, push... "OK. Come on out," Mike commanded. Randy -- still unrecognized by Stoker -- let out a fiendish scream and literally jumped out of the cab onto Mike. Scared the heck out of them both. Randy turned around with that big grin -- and Ed and Stearns who had run over to see the commotion, also started laughing frantically. It was quite a sight. We got Randy to put on a shirt and go inside the mall for lunch (courtesy of NBC) with us. (He had been thrown out of the mall a bit earlier because of no shirt.) The NBC publicity people were flabbergasted and we all had a great laugh and a great lunch. Later -- we headed home. At the Los Angeles County border, I picked up the microphone, and announced: "L.A. Engine 51. Back in our own district and available." The reply: "10-4 Engine 51. Welcome home." It was the one and only Sam Lanier on the dispatch board. Welcome home What can you say when one of the biggest studios in Los Angeles pulls out all the stops to welcome you home. That day was something we'll remember for a long time. Universal brought about 800 tourists to the main gate, where a big sign said, "Welcome Engine 51." We roared through the gates, sirens and lights going full blast, preceded by an escort of two pumpers and the LA County Chief's car. Many of the stars from "Emergency" were there, including Julie London, who christened the new Engine 51 with a breakaway bottle of champagne. Chief Richard Houts of the L.A. County Fire Department was also there to welcome us. It all made us feel excited and happy. http://www.emergencyfans.com/things/engine...tion_viewed.htm