11

Finishing Up My Training

BY THIS TIME LINDA AND I were doing really well. The financial pressure was easing with both of us, she as a nurse and I as a firefighter, making decent wages compared to when we were students skimping to get by on part-time jobs.

One sunny Sunday afternoon that year in June, Linda was working a day shift at the hospital. I had been working night shift, so I was sleeping until after noon when I was awakened by music coming from down the block. I was still tired, but the music was too loud to allow me to sleep any longer. Maybe I should check it out. I walked from my apartment building down Dundonald Street to Church Street. Balloons and banners were strung across the intersection. It was definitely a block party. A stage had been set up and a band was playing “You’re Having My Baby” while a chorus line of men was doing a cancan routine. People were having a great time and I welcomed the opportunity to decompress after a busy night of running alarm calls. The sun was shining, and most men had taken their shirts off. Great. I could use a tan. I was preparing for my first bodybuilding competition and was quite muscular and lean. I pulled off my T-shirt to soak up some rays and show off my hard-earned muscularity a bit. I blended into the crowd of shirtless partiers to watch the band and have fun. Then this naive small-town boy realized he was enjoying no ordinary street party. This was my first Pride Day. Vive la difference!

I GOT INTO THE SWING of things as far as studying went and after several fires under my belt, my confidence and abilities had progressed to the point where the crews were relying on me like I was one of their own. After a few weeks I had mastered driving the fire truck through the crowded streets of downtown Toronto. My captain, teaching me to fly through the gears on the manual shift pumper, had me drive around Queen’s Park Crescent, the street surrounding the site of the provincial legislature. Hump had me drive the pump south on University Avenue coming from north of Queen’s Park, upshifting to build up some speed. As we rounded the legislature I downshifted to decelerate and turned left around the curve to merge with the northbound traffic. Again, we picked up speed northbound past the park on the north side of the legislature merging left to begin our way south again and start the circuit over again. Our fire truck did this circuit over and over again, accelerating, decelerating, circling the provincial legislature again and again. The crew sitting on the back of the pumper were probably sick from going around in circles for a half hour or so. By this time, the Provincial Police assigned to the legislature were watching us with suspicion. The crew on the back would wave to them as we made each pass. Turns out Hump had me learn on the best “track” a young firefighter could ever want. The rest of my probationary period at the Yorkville Fire Hall went without a hitch.

THE RECRUIT GRADUATION CEREMONIES AT the fire academy ran in tandem with the Rescue and Station Citation Awards for the rank and file firefighters and were well attended by family and friends. It was great to catch up with the rest of my recruit classmates, most of whom I hadn’t seen since I left the academy, to share stories of fires and station anecdotes.

As we lined up to enter the auditorium one of my classmates commented on a group of teenage girls fawning over a young man with huge spiked hair wearing a sports coat with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. “What’s the deal with Rod Stewart over there?”

“That’s my brother,” said Greg Steffler, a classmate of mine. “Rod Stewart” was Chris Steffler, the drummer of the hugely successful pop band Platinum Blonde.

We marched in under Pipe and Drum wheeling in through the crowd and sat down at the front of the auditorium. Our recruit class had practised marching on parade for the weeks we spent at the academy prior to being stationed for our probationary period and filed in crisp and clean. The firefighters after spending years on the trucks and out of marching practice stumbled in mis-turning and out of step to the chuckles of a few. My family didn’t make the drive to Toronto for my graduation, but Linda was in the audience to witness me receiving my uniform hat and badge. It was the proudest day of my life.