R I T Training

Today for 8+ hours we had RIT training. RIT is rapid intervention team. It means the crew that stands by for the unplanned disaster that can strike first responders. They are the guys that rescue the guys that are trapped, or down.

The O2 Tank


We got 8 hours of overtime. Then I bee-lined it to the pink. And I am bushed. But its OK.

The weird thing is the instructors talked about the Aloha Drive fire that I was at back a while a go. The O2 tank that blew, and the realtive closeness of death. It is a weird feeling to remember what it was like that night. It makes a lot of the continual state of bullshit that occurs in my hale very, very ...manini. Yet, it reinforces the real fact of what lies around each corner.

If a man hadnt died behind a door, the likelihood of our entire crew perrishing was pretty great. His death prevented very possibly, our own.

It was so fucking hot. It was so bloody dark. The explosion sent all four of us to the floor. The entire 6 story concrete building, shook. Radio traffic, for a moment, ceased.

Gathered our collective nads, and...

went back into the fire.

The apartment was littered with O2 tanks. Really. At minimum, 20 or more. The heat was so bad, that the nomex turnouts, the hood, the gear we wear, burnt.

There were mortar like crevices in the concrete where the explosion had gone off. They were all over the room. It is strange to have all that come back to your mind.

It is strange.

Aloha.