|
Carla Fletcher (bottom right) is congratulated by fellow recruits John Weedon (kneeling), Jason Paul
Recruits (from left) Katie Jones, Clinton Marbury and Eric Nelson learn how to handle a 'charged' 2-inch hose. At right is Battalion Chief Charlie Freeman, who is in charge of training the county's new recruits.
After a day of classes, Stafford County Fire and Rescue Academy recruit Jennifer Kopf (right) carries her breathing apparatus to a third Recruits Jennifer Kopf (left) and Katie Jones practice yoga at the YMCA. The class is helping them enhance their strength and conditioning. |
A 185-pound dummy doesn't budge when Holly Duncan wedges her fingers under its armpits, leans back and pulls.
A recruit in Stafford's Fire and Rescue Academy, she must pull "Rescue Randy" more than 50 feet, around a cone and back to the starting point. It's the last task in a timed obstacle course that she and her 21 colleagues must pass to graduate in March.
Many men are fatigued after the hose hauling, ladder lifting and heavy hammering that precedes this part of the test. And all eight women have the same seven-minute time limit and 40- to 50-pound gear.
After all, during an emergency they'll have to wield the same tools, lift the same objects and rescue similar-sized victims as the men.
"Everybody is the same," said Battalion Chief Charlie Freeman, academy director. "It doesn't make any difference at a fire whether you're male or female, short or weak. Everyone's got to do the job."
So Duncan keeps trying.
"Come on. Hurry up. Let's go. Move that dummy," Lt. Erick Kling orders her.
"Yes sir. I understand, sir," she responds, getting a firm hold and dragging it halfway to the cone.
"It's technique. It's technique. Don't worry about time," recruit Jennifer Kopf shouts.
Women can do anything men can do, said recruit Katie Jones. They just have to approach physical challenges differently.
"Take forcible entry," she said. "Women don't want to muscle their way into it, because they can't. They'll think around it."
A few female recruits have worked on their skills and strength by attending yoga and exercise classes. That's in addition to the academy's physical training five mornings a week and some afternoons.
Jones and several other women also brainstorm tactics before each agility test practice run.
"Everything here, there's a good way and a bad way to do it," Jones said. "The good way, you exert less energy."
Duncan tries everything in her attempt to move the dummy. She pulls from the arms, then the legs. She pushes from all sides.
With several bursts of strength, she gets the dummy around the cone and halfway back to the beginning.
Freeman continues to push.
"I am not giving up, sir!" she screams back.
Strength, however, is just part of the challenge.
"Because the fire service is dominated by men, there are still some people getting used to women being there," said recruit Katherine Cook.
Fire gear isn't designed to fit curvy female hips. And gloves are made for larger hands.
But women's contribution to the fire service is gradually being recognized.
They can fit in spaces most men--generally bulkier and less flexible--can't. They can relate to female victims, especially domestic violence survivors, in ways males may not.
"There was a time when most doctors and lawyers were men," Cook said. "It's just a new frontier we've broken through."
Men in Stafford's academy, at least, don't consider their skills superior to those of women.
"You can't tell when they are in a mask," said recruit Eric Nelson. "They can hook a ceiling, drag a hose or do anything they want.
"You are either good at what you do or not good at what you do."
The academy's garage fills with instructors' voices, as Duncan keeps pulling at the dummy. "Don't stop. Keep going." "Get a good grip." "Use your weight." "You are almost there," they shout.
With one final outburst she curses at Freeman's demanding banter and hauls the dummy across the finish line. She collapses with exhaustion.
"I'm sorry, sir," Duncan tells the chief a few minutes later.
"Don't let it happen again," he responds.
She nods, starts to walk away, but turns back.
"I didn't quit," she says.
And he acknowledges.
"I know you didn't."
Meghann Cotter: 540/374-5434An estimated 6,140 women nationwide were firefighters in 2005. Virginia ranks fifth nationwide for number of women firefighters--234. At least 31 career fire agencies have a female as the top-level chief. Prince William County is the only one in Virginia. Stafford Fire and Rescue employs 81 emergency-services personnel; 20 are women. Spotsylvania Fire and Rescue employs 116 emergency-services personnel; seven are women. Source: County officials and Women in the Fire Service Inc. wfsi.org |
Note: One recruit dropped out of the academy this week, saying he wasn't prepared for such a demanding program. He follows one other recruit who resigned early |
| FILLING THE BOOTS is an occasional series about Stafford's first Fire and Rescue Academy. |
