Christmas Thoughts: 2017

Life is a special gift.

For most that might seem like a generic or bland statement, but I think it’s something we all take for granted. I know I have lost sight of life’s meaning more times than I’m comfortable admitting. Not because I’m crazy, but because I’m normal like everyone else and sometimes we’re just too busy to appreciate the amazing things we have been afforded in our limited time on this planet. Not long ago I was in one of those times where life seemed like something we all just had, and it really wasn’t anything special… but then this statement scrolled across the headlines of my thought process in a particular moment, and suddenly I was (again) reminded of how amazing a gift my life is. I was seated, very uncomfortably, in a metal chair on the side of the roadway halfway dressed up in a bright orange chemical protective suit. Some would say we looked like spacemen. Explorers of a planet unknown, destined to find an alien life form or some never-before-seen landscape that may be inhabitable in the future… but to us we just joked it’s an oversized body bag with a viewing window and footies where it’s almost impossible to manipulate even the most simple of objects with your hands. It was raining, it was uncomfortable, and we had already been there for a few hours on that roadside waiting for the word go. A joint effort between two emergency hazardous materials response teams had amassed a group of special technicians to recover the body of an individual that decided his mid-twenties were a good time to end his life by sealing himself inside a vehicle, and creating a mixture of chemicals toxic enough to kill him in seconds. Life is a special gift.

During the course of this 8-hour incident, it occurred to me that 2017 has been an incredible year of ups and downs in my life and my career, and that it could all be summed up in that statement: life is a special gift. I decided that day that towards the end of the year I would publish something sharing some of my experiences. Maybe a book, maybe a blog post, maybe something else. Either way, it seemed appropriate that I share with the world the (limited) details that I’m allowed to share, because nobody should ever get to the point where they feel like life is anything other than something that should be appreciated and celebrated.

If I had to venture a guess, I would say that most people in the general populous of society have a different and non-reinforced view of life and death. Sure, friends and loved ones pass away. Maybe some even stand with them at the hospital or in a nursing home as they fade through the final moments of their time on earth, but not many get to experience tragedy and life-altering circumstances in the exaggerated, full-speed, high-definition fashion that emergency responders and military personnel do. Quite honestly, I wouldn’t wish it on most people to see what we see. It’s not normal and it’s not for everyone… but it is sometimes necessary to look at the experiences of others and realize how special this thing called life is. These thoughts were again sobering earlier this year as I had to stand on the side of the roadway in the misting rain and look a couple of guys in the eye and reassure them that nothing could’ve been done differently. We performed perfectly and without error… but we still watched someone take their last breaths as they burned and suffocated inside a car that was crushed against a tree and melting amidst flames… 100 yards from their driveway. The counseling session we held a couple days later helped a lot, especially for the couple of new guys who hadn’t ever seen anything like this before. Still, the forces beyond my control didn’t think that I valued life enough, so 10+ months later on a medical call to a residence 100 yards from that scene I was greeted by a young man walking with a cane. A hug and a handshake were followed by stories of 19 neurological and orthopedic surgeries and months of intensive (still ongoing) rehab that allowed him to walk again… because guys who responded to that scene pulled this guy out of that same burning car, severed foot and all, and were able to save his life and his ability to walk. Life is special, and we all walk a thin line between forgetting that fact as we go about our day, and having it all flash before our eyes as seconds mean the difference between living and dying.

Even in situations where the value of life is apparent, sometimes those thoughts go by the wayside. They weren’t immediately present earlier this year when myself and my partner crawled down a dark, smoke-filled, 6th floor hallway before making the decision to open the door to an apartment and face whatever fire was behind it… with no water. There could have been someone inside. We didn’t know. What we did know was this was a 9-story tall retirement home filled with a couple hundred people who we regularly encountered on calls to help them because they had fallen on the floor and, due to their age or health, couldn’t get themselves up. Sure we had a hose. An axe too, and a thermal imaging camera that allowed us to see heat signatures through the thick smoke. We didn’t have water, however, because we didn’t have enough people. A group of volunteers responding to a fire in a high-rise building during the day, during the week, when most of our personnel were at work or with their families. We did what we had to do with what we had on hand to make sure someone else didn’t lose their life… because the potential was very real. The fire was in the kitchen, and it rolled across the ceiling and over my head as I tried (and failed) to put it out with an extinguisher and my partner disappeared past me into the one-bedroom apartment to hastily search and hopefully get a window open. I couldn’t get the fire knocked down, so I went looking for him, couldn’t find him, panicked slightly, and then ran into a bedroom fan and fell forward into a laundry basket full of clothes. I heard him ask me if I was ok, and I responded “yeah, lets get the hell out of here and get water”. We retreated to the hallway and waited for our hose to fill with water. We had more people then, and could actually fight the fire properly. There was nobody in the apartment. The occupant had left a candle burning as he drove his power chair around to various rooms in the building visiting and chatting with friends… but we didn’t know that. He doesn’t live in that building anymore.

The importance of life is, to me, never reinforced in a more powerful manner than through seeing the bad AND the good that comes with this job. Through the death, dismemberment, sadness, and dismay sometimes the only positive is the value that your life seems to reach when all else seems lost. Then there are the miracles of continuing life created by those whose job it is to train hard in order to stop the events of an incident from claiming a life. Many of us will never forget the fire earlier this year that claimed the life of two teenagers that was started by a child playing with a torch lighter. Nobody will forget that night or value the life he lives quite like a friend of mine who I was standing with when he located their remains. He and I went to high school together and have been friends since we were younger than the two victims. In contrast, I will value life a lot more after Thanksgiving of this year when I was stopped in my tracks by a two minute video on Facebook. Back in May of this year, we responded to a vehicle accident in a particularly well known, particularly dangerous curve of a road not far from our firehouse. I drove the engine there and had a fairly new firefighter riding backwards. This would be our second extrication of the shift. It was raining… again… and the car ended up on its top, in the kudzu, 35 feet down an embankment between some trees. Two of the occupants made it out and the other had to be lifted out in a basket by a rope system that we anchored to our heavy rescue truck. He suffered a traumatic brain injury and was told he may never walk or talk again. Over the course of the year, the firefighter riding with us that night shared a page on Facebook with me that was dedicated to informing his friends about his road to recovery. On Thanksgiving Day, he posted a video standing on his own, talking, moving around, and thanking all of his followers for all of their support while subsequently wishing them a happy Thanksgiving. That was the first time I commented on that page. I’m pretty sure all of his friends and family wondered who the random guy was commenting on his post.

Over the course of 2017 I’ve worked with some incredible individuals who have gone above and beyond to save lives and make a difference. I have been witness to not only some horrible tragedies, but also some amazing survival stories that have made me ultimately realize one thing:

Life is a Special Gift.

The holidays are always a particularly difficult time for me. The upcoming anniversaries of the passing of a few of my friends coupled with the memories of the events that have taken place make me realize just how many people are going through this season without someone they care about, or with the memories forever imprinted in their minds of the horrible things they have seen. Throughout the year 2017 I have read and seen so many things about those who have been affected in some manner by sickness, death, terrorism, tragedy, etc. I have done my best to comfort those who have spoken to me about these things and in turn, I have helped myself realize just how amazing my life is and how thankful I am to be able to live like I do surrounded by the people I’m surrounded by. Life is very special and should not be taken for granted.

In my off time this year, I managed to acquire a few good stories, some new scars, and even a few stitches. I have made new friends, reinforced old friendships, and found myself in a relationship with a woman who makes me happier than I ever have been before. It’s been difficult to maintain my motivation at work sometimes because of a few circumstances beyond my control, but things are looking up and 2018 WILL be a better year at the best job in the world. I have expanded my knowledge of life-saving techniques thanks to some amazing instructors, and as a result of this training I never leave home without a tourniquet in my pocket and a medical bag in my car. My day-to-day life is exciting, fun, happy, and forever special to me because of the things that the fire service has exposed me to. I can’t wait to keep living this life I live and see what comes next. I close this post with a reminder to everyone reading it.

Please, please, please do not take life for granted. Spend time with your families. Do not hold in the feelings you experience when something bad happens. Share and rejoice in the good the world has to offer, and always, ALWAYS do your best to help others in a time of need. And don’t judge someone until you listen to their story. They might just tell you something you’ve never heard before.

Merry Christmas Everyone, and Have a Happy New Year!

Status: Night Owl

Current time: 12:52 am.

Level of Consciousness: Completely Awake & Oriented.

I’ve always been a night owl. I’m not sure why and I’m not sure what keeps me that way, but in the words of Vincent Van Gogh:

“I Often Think That The Night Is More Alive And More Richly Colored Than The Day.”

I can remember as far back as elementary and middle school being awake and wandering around the house at night. I would stay up until ridiculous hours watching whatever my parents were watching on TV, and dreaming of the world beyond the confines of our home. I fell asleep on the couch more as a kid than I do now as an adult (who now owns his own couch). When I started doing photography more and more, the fire department radio started staying on later and later, until eventually it was left on all day and all night. As a result, we would often be out for several hours, or up and out multiple times during a single night shooting fire photos. School night, Christmas Eve, raining, snowing… it didn’t matter. Some of the most insane memories and some of the biggest fires happened during the nights when I should definitely have been asleep. Summer nights during high school years, I would stay up in my room listening to music, listening to the fire radio, and talking on instant messenger with my friends until the sun came up. Those were the days when Dad and I would race to see if the other one was awake when a fire was dispatched, and then try to get out the door as quickly and quietly as possible so Mom didn’t wake up! Now I take the opportunity to think a lot at night. At a minimum once a week I venture outside, take a deep breath, and just stare into the endless darkness and let my mind wander. It’s very helpful and very inspiring. My imagination usually gets the best of me in these moments, so they’re usually short-lived, but definitely not wasted.

It wasn’t until recent years where I began to notice that I was more productive and thoughtful at night. My time spent sitting in silence or staring into the night sky helps me maintain focus and usually puts me back on track with the more important things in life. As a result, I tend now to do my best work in the dark hours, and usually end up surprising myself when I wake up the next morning (or afternoon as the case may be). I’ve always been a believer that it’s not about quantity of sleep, but quality.

Productivity (in my mind) should be a measure of the total amount of successful, end-result output rather than of the cumulative input set of preparation and work completed over time. Think about it.

To summarize these thoughts, and add some meaning to this post, I’d like to point out that everyone functions differently, and everyone has their unique character traits, but sometimes something so simple as just waiting a few hours to see results can change the perception of ones abilities. Have you tried it? Take a short nap in the afternoon, and then stay up late to see where your mind takes you. You never know what you could come up with.

This is all just my 2 cents while sitting here on my parent’s couch, 600 miles from home, wide awake at 1am. Now I’m off to edit a few pictures, change a page on my website, move some files onto a flash drive, and check some statistics associated with my webpages. Maybe I’ll get to bed by 1:30? Who knows!

Speaking of webpages, I’d like to remind you all to check out my other media outlets for more content of various shapes and sizes. The list is below. Also don’t forget to subscribe to this blog using the link at the bottom of the page. I’m working on starting a Youtube channel. Not sure what all I’m going to put there, but I will post an update when the time comes!

Sleep Tight!

“I Have Loved The Stars Too Fondly To Be Fearful Of The Night.” – Sarah Williams

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A Fresh Start

It’s hard to admit you failed at something, but I did.

I logged into this blog site today for the first time in… let’s just say a few years. I was rather embarrassed at most of the stuff I had written, so my first order of business was to delete it all. Then I realized I have no idea why I stopped writing, so I decided to pick it back up again. I definitely failed before, and I’m not really ok with that. So now that all that’s out of the way:

HELLO! My name is PJ and I now write on this blog. Again.

I love to write, but I generally don’t anymore. I finished writing a book a couple years back and pretty much stopped altogether because it was such a major project and I just wanted to be done. Fast forward a while and here I am.

Currently, I’m on my annual spring vacation with my family in Virginia. I went fishing, I shot a lot of photos, and I have taken a lot of time to think about my life. Without going into a long drawn out history of me, I will say that I had a lifelong dream and a set of goals growing up that I wanted to accomplish. Now, at 23 years old, I’ve accomplished all of them including a college education, a successful career in a job that I love, and a few other non-essential things. I’m happy (very happy) with life, but I have found myself saying a lot lately “what’s next?”.

In an effort to explore more, give myself an excuse to get out and do more things, and to open my mind to more options and more people and their thoughts and lives, I have decided to become really active in social media and internet content and networking. Now, I know you’re probably thinking doesn’t social media and networking involve sitting inside all day in front of a computer and not going out?… YES, BUT: in all my years as a tech nerd and a gamer, I have met many wonderful and inspiring people on the internet who have really changed and molded my life into what it is now. The internet, in a roundabout way, is actually one of the main reasons I have the career I do at all. With that being said, I’m looking forward to putting more content out there in hopes of finding more people to call friends and gaining more knowledge about the world around me so that I am better able to find out the answer to that question above: What’s Next? Those who know me personally know that I LOVE to talk and I LOVE to tell stories. In the cyber-focused world we live in today, the best way to do that is over the internet. Blogs, websites, digital photos, Vlogs, YouTube, etc etc etc. There are endless ways to share your life with others, endless amounts of people who will watch, view, and listen, and every single person and their experiences are different. No longer does anyone have the ability to say “I Don’t Believe It!” and not immediately be provided with proof.

So here goes nothing!

If you’ve made it this far, I appreciate your time. Thank you. Please click the link at the bottom of the page to subscribe to the email feed so that you can read more of my ramblings, and please head over to my website and look at my photography work. PLEASE also be sure to let me know what you think, whether it be a comment on here, a like on Facebook, an email, or whatever. I really like feedback!


Remembering 16552

January 26, 2007

I was awakened at about 530 in the morning by my father. It was a school day so I assumed it was the usual wakeup signaling the time to drag myself out of bed and get ready for another day. As I closed my eyes in an attempt to catch a few minutes of extra sleep and delay the inevitable, another sharp shake hit me and my dads voice filled the room “Patrick. Get Up. Listen To Me.” I sat straight up and stared into his eyes. He was fully dressed in winter weather clothing (he still had his gloves on inside). The fire radio scanner was plugged into headphones that were stuck in his ears. He looked exhausted.

“What’s Wrong Dad?” I asked.

I’ll never forget his words: “Highway 58 Lost A Firefighter In A Fire Last Night. I’ve Been Out All Night And I’m About To Leave Again. I Thought You Should Know.”

The conversation that followed was mostly me begging him not to make me go to school and his promptly denying my request. As soon as I left school that day I did not return until the following week (one of the only times in my entire life I’ve missed school).

I remember walking in the firehouse. I remember there being so many people there you couldn’t hardly move. People crying, people standing in corners, silent as the night sky. I saw the Chief fighting tears while fearlessly doing what he does best: making sure people are on task. Getting things done. One of the assistant chiefs passed me in the hallway and said “I’m glad you’re here”. There were firemen from many different departments there and I would later find out that Highway 58 Volunteer Fire Department did not respond to a single call in their district for 4 days, due to the number of outside companies covering the territory (all 112 square miles of it).

Over the next few days, I saw the brotherhood come together. Firemen from different departments from two different states standing side by side responding to emergency calls in honor of a fallen brother.

The funeral was on a Monday. It was bright, sunny, and about 30 degrees with a wind chill in the teens. I had my camera (as usual) and myself and another photographer had teamed up to photograph the funeral. I sat quietly in the church, speaking only to say hello to those I knew who were in attendance.

That’s when I saw it.

The projectors in the church were playing a slideshow of photos of the fallen hero. It scrolled through pausing at each slide to reflect on a memory. The memory that hit me was a photo of me and him in the bucket of an aerial ladder

Shane and I

at a training exercise a couple years prior. He had offered to take me up for a ride in the ladder so I could get some overhead photos of the training ground. While we were up

there, he said “Look this way, it’s time for me to take your picture for a change.” He held out his hand and snapped a picture of the two of us, a picture that until that moment I had not seen. I lost it, but my dad was right there with me and helped me pull myself back together long enough to finish the service.


As the ceremony was over, we proceeded outside. Hundreds of firefighters lined the walkway, driveway, and yard of the church. The procession of emergency vehicles alone was over 1 mile long with hundreds of passenger cars behind that. Another moment of time that

Shane Funeral 3

is frozen in my mind: The doors of the church opened and through the silence of the crowd the Chiefs voice rang out “Highway 58 Fire Department, ATTENTION!” The crowd of firefighters snapped to attention and the midday silence was deafening. Firefighters carried the flag draped casket outside and loaded it onto the back of engine 1642… his engine. Two firefighters rode atop the engine dressed in full turnouts as the procession proceeded down Highway 58. After the casket passed underneath the American Flag hung between the

tips of Fort Oglethrope Ladder 1 and Catoosa County Ladder 1, the engine turned and made one last drive through the empty apparatus bay at Highway 58 VFD Station 2 before proceeding to the cemetery. At the gravesite, the cold wind did not ease the pain of the several hundred firefighters and family members in attendance. The owner of the local Firehouse Subs franchise, who happened to be a good friend of mine, offered me free lunch if I let him borrow a winter hat to cover his bald head, which was shining in the midday sun.

In one final pass of the casket, attendees of the funeral had the chance to pay their respects to the family. I walked past and the widow of the fallen firefighter greeted me with a hug. “He loved your photos” she said “the first thing he did when he got home from a fire was check your website for pictures. He was a big fan of yours and wanted to see you succeed in the fire service.”

Several years down the road, I joined this department as a volunteer. I would later find out that there were more similarities between he and I than just a burning love for the fire service. My instructor in firefighter 1 class enlightened me to the fact that I sat in the same seat in class as he did (unknowingly). He and I also won the same awards (Rookie of the Year and Firefighter of the Year). And we were both fans and followers of the same fire companies in the “famous big city departments”. There have been many times where I have been told “thats exactly what he would have said”. I could not think of a greater honor than being compared to someone who was willing to lay down his life in an attempt to save others.

I will close this remembrance article with a quoted phrase. It is a phrase that the fallen firefighter coined, and had said so many times it was eventually adopted as the motto of the Highway 58 Volunteer Fire Department:


Go home, and may you rest in peace. We’ve got it from here and we will never forget you…