Christine Rushton, Murrow Backpack Journalist
 |
| A flame left from a fire Monday in Zacapa, Guatemala. Christine Rushton | Murrow College |
Crouching in smoldering ash, I felt sweat pour down my face.
Smoke rose around my lens as the army soldier to my right pointed at my feet. The soles of my tennis shoes had started to melt.
Monday started when I branched off from the HIM crews and
tagged along with Spokane Fire Chief Bruce Holloway. He travels to Guatemala
with his wife to train local volunteer firefighters and military crews for the
worst.
Taking notes in my fold-down school chair, I expected to
spend the day following Bruce’s lectures at the station in Zacapa. But an emergency call summoned the fire crew, and the lesson went live.
 |
| The team prepares the fire hose. Christine Rushton | Murrow College |
A field in the downtown region had caught fire and the
95-degree heat and wind fed the burn. Bruce said the Guatemalan people burn
trash, and often a spark will jump to the dry fields.
With only two donated fire engines and a few ambulances to
serve 65 communities, the team of volunteers and visiting Guatemalan army
members piled on with shovels and machetes. Scarred by the flames that had
nearly finished smoldering, the field where crops once stood now lay dead.
Bruce commanded the team to dig trenches and snuff
out lingering flames. In the brush, he stopped to tell me about the power of
changing winds.
 |
| Guatemalan army soldiers beat down smoldering flames. Christine Rushton | Murrow College |
 |
| One Guatemalan soldier digs trenches in the field. Christine Rushton | Murrow College |
When firefighters in Arizona died last year, Bruce said
the winds had shifted in a thunderstorm 180-degrees. The crew did not have time
to escape.
Always fight the fire from back to front, he said.
But Bruce hangs on to what firefighters call “gallows
humor;” they joke about the flames that steal the oxygen of life.
“We are careful around other people, but it’s the only way
to keep our sanity,” he said.
The volunteer crews survive on fundraising and donations. The people face fires due mostly to people burning trash in uncontrolled settings.
Juan Alvarez, a volunteer at the Zacapa station, said the city once provided 2,500 quetzals a month, but hasn’t since September 2013.
 |
| A woman firefighter douses a stump. Christine Rushton | Murrow College |
After two hours fighting, the team reduced the threat to steam.
Despite a thick layer of soot and sweat coating each soldier’s skin, smiles
stretched across faces.
My legs had cuts. My freckles had disappeared underneath
black debris. But my camera had filled with photos proving the determination
of a dedicated team.
Never doubt the heart of a volunteer on the front lines.
 |
Christine Rushton | Murrow College
|
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete