I wish you could see
the sadness of a business man
as his livelihood goes up in flames
or that family returning home,
only to find their house
and belongings damaged or destroyed.

I wish you could know
what it is to search
a burning bedroom for trapped children,
flames rolling above your head,
your palms and knees burning as you crawl,
the floor sagging under your weight
as the kitchen beneath you burns.

I wish you could comprehend
a wife's horror at 3 A.M.
as I check her husband of forty years
for a pulse and find none.
I start CPR anyway,
hoping against the odds to bring him back,
knowing intuitively it is too late.
But wanting his wife and family to know
everything possible was done.

I wish you could know
the unique smell of burning insulation,
the taste of soot-filled mucus,
the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear,
the sound of flames crackling,
and the eriness of being able to see
absolutely nothing in dense smoke
sensations that I have become too familiar with.

I wish you could be
in the emergency room
as the doctor pronounces dead
the beautiful little five-year old girl
that I have been trying to save
during the past twenty-five minutes,
who will never go on her first date
or say the words, "I love you Mommy," again.

I wish you could know
the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine,
the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal,
my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain,
as you fail to yield right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic.
When you need us, however,
your first comment upon our arrival will be,
"It took you forever to get here!"

I wish you could know
how it feels to walk in the back door
and greet my parents and family,
not having the heart to tell them that I nearly
did not come home from this last call.

I wish you could feel
my hurt as people verbally,
and sometimes physically,
abuse us or belittle what we do,
or as they express their attitudes of,
It will never happen to me.

I wish you could know
the brotherhood and self-satisfaction
of helping save a life
or preserving someone's property,
of being there in times of crisis,
or creating order from total CHAOS.

I wish you could understand
what it feels like to have a little boy
tugging on your arm and asking,
"Is my Mommy O.K.?"
Not even being able to look in his eyes
without tears falling from your own
and not knowing what to say.
Or to have to hold back a long-time friend
who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him
as they take him away in the ambulance.
You knowing all along he did not have his seat belt on.
Sensations that I have become too familiar with.

Unless you have lived
this kind of life, you will never truly understand
or appreciate who I am, what we are,
or what our job really means to us.

I WISH YOU COULD!