My Memories Of Mike
By Norma Barr
Even though I wasn't a firefighter with East River, I have many memories of Mike with the fire department. Several months after he joined ER, he took his brand new 1972 Dodge Charger to a house fire on High Street. While he was fighting the fire, several people took keys and scratched the sides of the car ( I was even sitting in the car at the time). Needless to say he was a little ticked and had to have the scratches sanded out and the car repainted. He swore that he would never go back to that section of town again, but he did.
Usually when there was one house fire they had three. Most of them in the winter time were generally chimney fires. Johnny Vipperman always told Mike that he must have had the cleanest flue in town because every time that ER was called out for a flue fire, Mike would go home and clean out his own flue.
Many times when he was out and got a call, he would take his POV to the scene. I remember one call in particular at a house on Beckley Road going towards Spanishburg. Mike was passing every car he came to whether it was in a straight stretch or in a curve. I was petrified by the time we got there and I told him if I was ever with him again and he got a call, I would get out and stand by the side of the road until he came back and picked me up. But I didn't, I just went along and prayed more, not just for his safety at the fire, but for mine getting to the fire. When we arrived at the scene, I watched this man put on the fire gear, the air bottles and enter a flaming house without hesitation to help save the home of a perfect stranger. He never thought of the roof or the floor caving in, he just wanted to help put out the fire.
Later, after his sons were born, he stopped going into the burning houses and started working the pumper. He always said that he was too old to go into the houses anymore, but I think part of it was that he realized that how dangerous it really was and that he was needed to be around to watch his sons grow up. Sometimes he would remark that he only worked the pumper, but I would remind him how important a good pump operator was (and he was a good pump operator). I would tell him that the firemen in the house couldn't put out the fire unless someone who knew what they were doing was on the pumper getting the water to them.
Another thing he was good at was directing traffic during wrecks, especially on I-77. Last Year, I was with him (again) when a call came in about a wreck at mile marker 8-9. It was pouring down rain and there was a tractor trailer involved, so of course he wanted to go. He parked his truck in front of the fire trucks and walked back to try to stop traffic at the top of the hill. I was horrified when I watched him and Justin jump into the medium to keep from getting hit by another vehicle who couldn't move over or slow down fast enough because of road conditions. People don't realize how dangerous it is just to direct traffic.
I have so many more things I could talk about, such as the Ramp Dinners, the bunk room and the last fire department picnic that Mike attended, but I'll stop with this. My last memory of Mike isn't fighting a fire, but when his was fighting for his life in Charleston. His bravery still came through, even then. He never questioned what was wrong with him, never asked why he was in the hospital or why he couldn't move his legs, and he never complained or said he was in any pain. The thing that touched me the most was the night that his "brothers" came to the hospital and made him laugh. That was one of the few times that he had a smile on his face, except when he saw his granddaughter for the last time. I'll never forget how excited he got and the first words he said when you walked into the room. (Well, Rumley!!) There were only supposed to be 2 at a time in his room, but the next thing I knew all 4 of them was in the room with him. They laughed and joked with him and talked about the fires they had gone on, going out in Service 7 on car wrecks, and what they would do when he got home. I was afraid that they were being too loud, but the nurse told me to let them alone because it was the best thing for him. He loved you all so much. Thank you guys for making Mike's last days such memorable one for him and me. I love you and you are all truly my heroes.