
A second part of the job is to respond, as called, to scenes where families, witnesses and others have been traumatized. Most often those are scenes of violent or unexpected deaths. Our paramedics are finishing up their brief sad chores, the police are present to investigate, the coroner will be showing up soon, their home is no longer their own and they are not in control of what is going on. Who will be there for them and with them? That’s where I come in. I offer what few words of comfort make any sense at all, help them understand what is happening, what will happen, why it is happening, how long it will take, what decisions have to be made, whether they have a pastor or religious tradition that would be helpful, would they like prayers to be said with them and over the body of the deceased. All the while I will be keeping them in a safe place, monitoring their emotional and physical conditions for any signs of critical need, and assisting with the hard but necessary questions the police and coroner will ask. Usually it will be the only time I will ever see these people. I will be their pastor for a few hours only, but they will be an important few hours.
We do not have many structure fires in our community, and that’s a good thing. I try to respond to residential fires to care for those affected while the department is on scene. I respond to serious commercial property fires where I send up a constant stream of prayer for the safety of my firefighters and to offer whatever unskilled help may be needed. I just got back from one. A friend’s manufacturing plant was partially destroyed this morning. I suppose it sounds a bit silly, but I spent my time praying God’s blessing on every piece of equipment and every firefighter there. Needless to say I also looked a bit ridiculous in my helmet, turnout coat, khakis and soaking wet moccasins.
Finally, I serve on a debriefing team that provides psychological first aide for first responders who have been brought to the edge of what even the most experienced hand is able to endure.
It’s a volunteer job. It takes a few hours a week plus the occasional call. I wouldn’t trade it for any other.
they are so lucky to have you… plus you get to wear that REALLY COOL hat 🙂 perhaps boots might be a bit more appropriate than moccasins? xo
I was at the Roasterie, Steve, when the fire broke out. I should have known that amidst all the engines on their way to it you'd be there as well. If I had remembered I would have walked a coffee over to you. I know your presence counts (or to put it slightly differently: that truly counts that comes with your presence).
Although I'd heard you describe this job previously, I enjoyed reading this post very much. It reminded me once again what an invaluable service you provide not only to those who must deal daily with tragedy and death in various forms, but also to the loved ones who must find ways to rebuild their structures and/or lives afterward. I'm grateful that you understand the value of what you do, unheralded though it be. Keep up the good work, knowing that our prayers are with you.
NOW THIS IS COMPASSION. God Bless You CP, and thank you for being available.
Such lovely responses! xo
Blessings on this critical ministry. Peace to you.
You mentioned \”a friend's manufacturing plant\” which partially burned, where you were present as fire chaplain. I read about in the paper the next day, and I supposed that it was the plant of Steve Reiff, a member of St Pauls Church? Dr B
Dad – You rock! Love – Sarah