Many items at the Gibson Museum deserve a closer look, but it’s the display case of the 2015 Valley Fire that makes me stop for longer than a moment. Reading the details of the fire, such as the date it started, how many lives were lost, and all the other facts, isn’t really what causes me to pause, because those are all things easily found with a Google search. It is the firefighters’ paraphernalia and the charred hutch tastefully filled with small odds and ends that once belonged to someone’s home, now finding their place in the greater story.
“Firefighters are true heroes, every one of them, because they put their lives on the line over and over again to save others’ lives, homes, property, possessions, animals, and towns,” a kind friend told me after I recently moved to California from Washington State in 2012. “They don’t take lives; they only save lives.” I had noticed the many homemade “Thank you, Firefighters” signs throughout town and could easily feel my community’s gratitude towards Cal Fire and the local fire agencies. And after personally experiencing several big wildfires and near-evacuations, I not only came to understand the meaning of her words but also felt them take deep root inside me. They truly are heroes.
Fast forward to sometime in late 2024, and my youngest was at the age when she was deciding whether to pursue a four-year college degree like her older siblings after earning her AA, or to jump-start her career in something completely different, all at the tender age of sixteen. I tried to remind her to slow down, take her time. No, no, no. It would seem she was in a catch-up game against time and needed to be already launched when she turned eighteen.
Soon, she was all talk about becoming a firefighter and going to the Mendocino College Fire Academy. To make a long story short, my home has been covered in protein powder, protein bars, and stinky gym clothes. I tripped over hand weights in her ever-growing home gym, watched Instagram firefighter reels over and over again, and saw the G.I. Jane movie more than once. Then it happened: she turned into her own real-life G.I. Jane, coming home after twelve-to fourteen-hour days at the academy, sometimes six days a week, ashen gray and beat to sh*t. The evidence was all over her bruised, trashed body. More than once, I had to ask her if this was really what she wanted to do and remind her that she was young and could do anything with her life. Meanwhile, she’d stare off into space blankly, blink, blink again, then turn to look at me and say, “Yeah, this is what I want to do. I know it is,” and resume her thousand-mile stare. And what could I say or do? Her mind was made up, and she’d leave the next morning to do it all over again, along with her classmates, for four grueling months.
Oh, yeah, she did have her own real-life G.I. Jane moment, too. It happened when one of her instructors kept yelling at her, “Are you sure you want to do this job for the next twenty years of your life?” while she practiced search and rescue by dragging a two-hundred-plus-pound classmate out of “danger” over and over again in between sets of “Goodmans” (running up and down the fire tower). For context, this is the equivalent of you and me running up and down fifteen flights of stairs several times, then repeatedly dragging a body that weighs almost twice as much as we do.
With her classmates watching.
All. Day. Long.
And that day, when she was gassed and didn’t know if she could go on, she kept herself going by reciting the Firefighter’s Oath while doing Goodmans:
My fundamental responsibility as a “protector” of society is the safeguarding, rescuing, and preservation of human life and property against the elements, fire, disaster, injury, and hazardous materials.
I will never allow personal feelings or danger to myself deter me from carrying out my duties.
I will, to the best of my ability, recognize and uphold my responsibility at all hours of the day or night, on-duty or off, when those I am sworn to protect need my help.
I shall always strive to be all that I can be in public service.
I dedicate myself to this, before the public who have placed their faith in me and my chosen profession.
And when another instructor asked her the next day if she had left a man behind, her answer was, “No, never once.” That day was the crucible moment for her. That day was the deciding moment when she knew she wanted to be a firefighter, no matter what. See? A real-life G.I. Jane moment!
Mendocino Fire Academy Class III graduates
Today, I am the proud mother of a Mendocino Fire Academy Class III graduate. It wasn’t pretty, and she didn’t make it look easy, but she passed and graduated with her fellow firefighter brothers.
I blink as the story melds in my mind while looking at the firefighters’ worn gear at the Gibson Museum, and I wonder what made that person choose to be a firefighter. And I am filled with emotions and pride. Oh, it’s not just about my daughter, who will one day receive her first call to serve. No, it’s bigger than that. It’s knowing that our communities are filled with men and women who are willing to risk their all to save you and me, and all we hold dear, because they received the call. And in my heart of hearts, I know my daughter will be one of them.
I recently asked my daughter why she wants to be a firefighter as her career. And her answer was, “I always wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. And I want to make a difference.”
Now she is able to do just that.
A special thanks to Middletown Cal Fire Station, Cobb Station 62, and the Kelsey Cobb Cal Fire Station for helping my daughter, whether it was letting her tag along on calls before the academy, helping her throw ladders on the weekends, her fitness trainer, Shawna Mayo, for creating workout routines for her, and, above all, the encouragement along the way. Additionally, thank you to Hardester’s Market in Middletown for keeping her job for her while she was absent for four months at the academy, and for giving her shifts while she waits to get her first firefighter position. Also, thanks to Muscle Matrix Gym in Hidden Valley, City Fitness in Lakeport, and, most of all, to the Mendocino Community College and instructors who give their time to make the Mendocino Fire Academy possible.
If you live in South Lake County and want to make a direct impact on your local fire departments, visit the Fire Sirens Thrift Store located on Hwy 175 next to the Middletown fire station. 100% of the proceeds go directly to South County Fire Departments.
