Last Alarm

The Last Alarm

My father was a fireman, He drove a big red truck. And when he'd go to work each night, He'd say "Mother wish me luck"

Then dad would not come home again, till: sometime the next day. But the thing that bothered me the most, Was the things some folks would say.

"A fireman's life is easy, He eats and sleeps and plays. And sometimes he doesn't fight a fire For days and days and days"

When I first heard these comments, I was too young to understand. Cause I knew, when people had troubles Dad was there to lend a hand.

Then my father went to work one day, And he kissed us all good-bye. But little did we realize that night, we all would cry.

My father gave his life that night, When the floor gave way below. And I wondered why He'd risk his life, For someone that he didn't even know.

But now I realize, The greatest gift a man can give, Is to lay his life upon the line, So that someone else might live.

So as we go from day to day, And we pray to God above. Say a prayer for your local fireman, He may save the ones you love.

Author: Unknown

Dedicated to the Family, Children, Loved Ones and Friends of Fire Fighters who died in the line of duty, as well as all the other Forces and heroes that have given their lives for others.

Brendan Fahey pictured here, wears his Fathers fireman helmet at his father's funeral, Brian Fahey.

Photo by: Charles Wenzelberg/New York Post
Poem Submitted by: FYRPA@aol.com

(A Special Thanks to Jim Martinez, Everett WA., Retired Fire Fighter and also past V.P. of the IAFF, For his inspiration to write this story and to Juanita Johnson for informing me of this.)

Copyright ©1997-2005 John Shockey
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