The Unforgettable Fire

By Gordon Bennett

Last Tuesday night at 2207 hrs., nearly the entire Rockaway FDNY quiver responded to a massive conflagration at the very south-eastern tip of Broad Channel. Tearing down Beach Channel Drive, E-265 & L-121 gazed across the bay towards tremendous flames, sending a hellish halo hundreds of feet into the nighttime sky. The initial shock was immediately followed by an unwavering certitude, felt by each member, that every man must do his duty.

The “Holland House,” E-266, Queen’s premier single engine, arrived first due. Members felt the heat before even stepping off the rig. Skippered by Howard Beach’s own Lt. Michael Miller, E-266 showed an unfettered zeal to do what FDNY engines do: get fast water on the fire. Lt. Miller, the old salt, immediately, in his own words, “banged in a 2nd [Alarm].”  Arriving shortly after came the members of “The Beach House”, E-268/L-137. Under the charge of Capt. James Ervolino, E-268 pulled a second hose line from 266’s rig and joined the battle. L-137, led by Lt. Brian Wren, and chauffeured by FF Christopher Hillebrand, made sure to position their rear-mount ladder truck well out of the way of L-121’s incoming tower ladder. Interior operations and exterior laddering were out of the question.

Protecting the surrounding structures became paramount. In immediate hazard was Broad Channel’s esteemed and beloved Adrienne’s restaurant. And no fire company was better manned or better equipped to do so than L-121, and their colossal 95’ tower ladder. Led by covering officer Brian Santosus, of L-142 (who, by coincidence, were the second tower ladder operating on scene), chauffeured by L-121’s Eric “Pins” Yanega, L-121 entered the stage of choreographed chaos, determined to give a performance worthy of the moniker “Best on the Beach.” Stepping momentarily off the campaign trail for FDNY Queens Trustee, Broad Channel’s own, the luminary FF Martin Tubridy, backed up by FF Hector Bonilla, would man “the bucket.” Exposed to heat and smoke, they proceeded to direct thousands of gallons upon the stubborn blaze.

Directing this building orchestra of firefighters, fire apparatuses, and countless lengths of firehose was Rockaway Beach native son, the unflappable Battalion Chief Thomas Healy. With inborn confidence, the maestro performed flawlessly. Despite the reality where each and every operation seems always savoring of the perpetual opening night, Chief Healy immediately set the tempo, gave cues, and kept all companies coordinated. Ensuring the night’s performance was flawless. The concertmaster was never more in his element.

Entering this raucous symphony came E-265. Chauffeured by, arguably, the most adept and quick-thinking MPO [motor pump operator] on the peninsula, FF Eric Falk. E-265’s rig was masterfully positioned in the MTA parking lot, adjacent to the crowded cluster of fire apparatuses positioned abreast the fire building. E-265’s officer, Lt. Bambury, hurriedly walked to the scene with his members (while ECC Falk made certain the first two arriving engine chauffeurs had a water supply to the initial attack lines well in hand).

Upon arrival to the heat and flame, E-265’s officer shook hands with former FDNY Proby School classmate, Broad Channel legend (and Adrienne’s proprietor), Leo Chavanne. With 22 years of absence evaporating effortlessly, Leo wasted no time requesting a hose line to protect the critically endangered chow hall. “Sure thing.” E-265 members began stretching their massive and weighty 2 ½” hose line. As they did so, Leo walked E-265’s officer through a winding, Byzantine pathway, which, in Leo’s estimation, would provide perfect access for a hose line to shield Adrienne’s from fiery destruction.

Winding through gates, sheds, and cloistered bits of refuse, the two old Proby chums reached the foot of an adjacent derelict deck. A decomposing seaside mass; disused, decrepit, and largely devoid of its former planking. Now, random sheets of plywood rotted in parts to a near transparency, making the deck dubiously passable. Leo’s proposed pathway for E-265’s hose line to get in position to protect Adrienne’s was beyond hazardous. Far outside FDNY standard safety guidelines. E-265 found it simply brilliant. Cheers to Channel Lord Leo Chavanne, the pathfinder. “Audentes Fortuna luvat.”

Just before taking the first leap, E-265 hesitated. That peculiar feeling, where enterprise loses the name of action.  “Drop your Scott Paks!” exclaimed the suddenly lucid engine lieutenant. 30 lbs. of dead weight, sure to put them through the plywood planking and straight to Davy Jones’ Locker, was instantly unburdened. Genuine brinksmanship. Following his officer, the spry Nozzleman, and intrepid former tugboat man, Danny Young, completed multiple two-to-three-foot leaps over the open water, perfectly mirroring each surefooted step before him. Close on Young’s heels was the venerable and sage, 27-year veteran, Tommy Roche. Part fireman, part Ironworker, part smokejumper, Roche effortlessly crossed these “hazards,” proceeding to operate with a demeanor so becalmed, it seemed as if his very brain were packed in ice.

Following these spritely raccoon goblins (Roche is oft-believed by the members to be part-gremlin, and has the wheels to prove it), came the lumbering Irish Oak, E-265 Controlman, Liam Murtagh. In failed mimicry of the three team members before him, Liam leerily lurched across the first two-foot gap and immediately plunged through a rotted plywood plank. Powerful arms stretched wide, as Murtagh’s equally powerful trunk-like legs dangled below him. Pulled to safety by an unknown firefighter and now driven with the same spirit as the mythic Irish warrior Cú Chulainn himself, Murtagh improvised, adapted, and overcame, making good his passage and joining his brothers in battle.

With the line soon emplaced upon a relatively secure footing, Nozzleman Danny Young braced broad shoulders and hands of python-grip strength, unleashing the full fury of the massive hose line upon a veritable wall of fire. Thousands of gallons spewed forth from Young’s nozzle. Collapsing tons of flaming structure and trembling sector chiefs notwithstanding, Young, backed up by Roche and Murtagh, put enough dent in the fire’s progression to make E-265’s noble endeavor worthy, before superiors got wobbly, ordering all members off the deck. “The Sector-Chief wants us to retreat, men,” quipped E-265’s officer, “but we’ll make it a sort of fighting retreat.”

Last Friday, the FDNY, particularly the members of the 47 Battalion, saved the day. An unstoppable blaze was beaten and bested. The traditions of excellence, fostered by generations of FDNY members, were steadfastly upheld, and another scene of seeming chaos was put to rest by New York’s Bravest.

Photo by Kevin York.