Chip's Blog

As the ongoing saga of Boston Firefighter (folks, it brings bile to my throat to type that, trust me.) Arroyo unfolds, and the public perception of both firefighters in general, and the Jakes on the Boston Fire Department goes down the "crapper", I want to take a minute to tell a story of a guy who didn't take disability.

In 1996, as part of my duties as Fire Chief in my community (I admit, not the worst of those duties....) I had the pleasure of going to Ocala, Fla to attend what is called a "pre-build conference" for an engine we were purchasing from Emergency One.  At the time that I was there, three guys from the Boston Fire Department were also there, working out the final spec's for two engines a ladder and a lighting truck.  Needless to say, we are significantly smaller than the BFD!!!  One of these guys was Kevin Flynn, Head of Maintenance and the brother of Mayor Flynn, the second was a retired Lieutenant who was expert in fire apparatus design and a consultant to Commissioner Stapleton, and a Captain named Hugh Duffy.  Although we worked in seperate rooms, and fought fires in substantially seperate worlds, we dined in the same restaurants, and this old chief became a real fan of Hugh Duffy.  We never stayed in contact, but his story I'llo never forget.

At the first dinner we attended together, he invited me to join him in the hot tub the subsequent morning at 6 AM.  He said it was part of his "rehab" and I willingly agreed.  Now folks, understand that, although this was Florida, it was winter there, and the dawn temperatures were close to frost levels...but we were firefighters...we were men.

When I met Hugh at the hot tub, I asked him about why he was "rehabbing".  He told the following story.  About a year previously, he had been Captain of the House in Brighton.  A fire had come in for a residenttial structure and he was supervising the interior crews who were face to face with a bigtime fire, inside the building.  An unexpected (duh) floor collapse occurred, and he, and another firefighter fell through the floor into the basement.  The other firefighter was a rookie that Captain Duffy was keeping close for his protection.  Both of the men were trapped in the basement.  Hugh told me that the rookie was holding on to his boot, obviously frightenened.  Hugh's back was seriously injured in the fall, and a burning timber was laying on his shoulder.  The scars from the full thickness burn were evident on his shoulders as we sat there.  He couldn't move; he couldn't get out; they were trapped and he was being serioiusly burned.  He never said it, but I know he thought his number was up.  I would have.

Into that basement came a mutual aid crew from Brookline, pouring water on the burning timbers.  Hugh jokingly told of the rookie yelling, "Hey you're gonna drown us!!!"  And the Brookline Jake yelling back, "Do you want to "freakin" (I translate here!!) drown or do you want to "freakin" burn to death?"  Hugh laughingly said, "My rookie didn't say another word till they took us out."

Saved from almost certain death, Captain Duffy spent the next year on extended sick leave, rehabbing himself.  Commissioner Stapleton put him on administrative duty when he was well enough, and was trying to convince him to stay there.  Hugh wanted back "on a company".

When I last heard about Hugh Duffy, he was running "Moon Island", the Boston Fire Department Training Facility.  You see, ladies and gentlemen, the Boston Fire Department, like every other in this Commonwealth, wants more Hugh Duffy's.  None of them want Firefighter Arroyo.

And my request....when you think of the Boston Fire Department, think Hugh Duffy...think Stevie Minehan...please don't think of Arroyo.  He just ain't a "good Jake".