Serving those who serve

Cape meeting highlights work of fire chaplains

CAPE ELIZABETH — Howard Sterling has been a firefighter/EMT for the city of South Portland for nearly a quarter century, but he still remembers the call that both changed his life, and cemented his faith.

It was Aug. 27, 1996, when, during a four-alarm fire at Portland Welding Supply Co., 47-year-old Robert Wallingford Jr. collapsed on scene, the victim of a fatal heart attack. “I attended to him,” said Sterling, his voice drifting away as his eyes seem to relive the moment. “It was hard.”

That moment propelled Sterling to a life of serving those who serve others, as the chaplain in the South Portland Fire Department. This past weekend, Sterling took part in a first-of-its-kind event for Maine: the Basic Chaplaincy Certificate course, conducted by the national Federation of Fire Chaplains.

Held Friday and Saturday in Cape Elizabeth, the course was aimed at helping fire chaplains learn how to minister to firefighters and crisis victims, both on and off the incident scene, as well as manage stress, handle notifications of injury or death and officiate at department funerals.

In all, 23 chaplains took part in the two-day, 16-hour seminar, coming from five of the six New England states and as far away as Georgia. Local departments represented included Cape Elizabeth, South Portland, Acton, Sanford and Old Orchard Beach.

“Like Howard [Sterling], most of these people are seasoned, but there’s been no formal training of this kind before in this region,” said Cape Elizabeth’s fire chaplain, the Rev. Martin J. Jordan, who organized the event.

“I’ve gone through trainings through my church, but this has been an eye-opener,” said Sterling.

Fifteen years have passed since Sterling got his calling. It came in the aftermath of Wallingford’s death, when he realized the South Portland Fire Department had no resource to help the firefighter’s peers cope with the sudden loss.

“Some chaplains came in from the outside,” recalled Sterling, “but we had nothing in-house. It was shortly after that, that I went to the chief and said, ‘How about I play that role?’ because I saw the need and I wanted to help the guys.

“Not that I was qualified,” said Sterling, returning to life with a self-depreciating chuckle, “but I looked at it as, ‘It’s better than nothing.”

Sterling, of Auburn, took a two-year pastoral course through his church and has worn two hats in South Portland ever since. Sadly, the comfort he provides is all too necessary.

The National Fire Protection Association’s latest report of firefighter fatalities, issued in June, shows a 34-year low in on-duty deaths, at 72. That’s the lowest since the NFPA began tracking such data in 1977. Still, over the past 10 years, America has lost, on average, 95 firefighters per year, the majority from among the volunteer ranks.

According to South Portland Firefighter/Paramedic Joe Simmons, Maine averages one line-of-duty death every two years. He should know – he’s an Honor Guard coordinator who helps organize many of those events.

“Firefighters do a job that is different, that exposed them to things that normal life doesn’t expose us to – death and fire and injury and putting their life on the line – and we ask them to do that repeatedly,” explained FFC trainer Bill Lotz, who came to Maine from Washington state to conduct the seminar. “Having somebody to come along side them and support them in that work, personally, individually and as a team, becomes the chaplain’s role.

Fire Chaplains come in all forms, said Lotz, with types as many and varied and the departments that serve Maine’s cities and towns. Some, like Sterling, are laypeople in their church who answer the fire bell for a living and a higher calling as needed. Most, like Walter Douglas, of Old Orchard Beach, are ordained ministers who use their spiritual gifts to “serve those who serve others.” Some, like Acton’s Melissa Marquis, enter the chaplaincy early in their fire careers, while others, like Jordan, a former fire chief in Portland, become fire chaplains after retirement from active service.

Jordan grew up in Norton, Mass., and even as a teen was torn between the fire service and the ministry. The big, red trucks won out, however, and Jordan began a 33-year career, capped off as fire chief in Portland from 2000 to 2002. He was then solicited out of retirement to lead Standish’s fire protection efforts for three years, until 2008, but before that, he answered his other calling, becoming an ordained Catholic minister in 2005.

“I’ve never been a Bible-thumper, but I’ve always been spiritual,” said Jordan, 68. “The fire service won out when I was younger, but getting ordained seemed like a way to keep involved. Firefighting is a young guy’s job, but you can’t let it go. I always said, ‘What am I going to do afterwards?’ and becoming a fire chaplain seemed like the best way to keep a hand in it, and help those who help others.”

Marquis, who works in New Hampshire, became an EMT as a way to get to know people in Acton, where she lives. It was on one of her first calls, before she was even licensed, when she observed Action’s fire chaplain at work, helping fire victims recover from life-altering devastation.

“It was like a call from God right there,” recalls Marquis. “I said, this is what I need to do, this is what I’m going to do with my life.”

Marquis graduated in May from Bangor Theological Seminary.

“It’s all about the ministry,” said Marquis, when asked about the need for fire chaplains. “A lot of the guys are really tough and hard core, and they kind of need to be to do this job, but they don’t let their emotions in.

“If you do that for too long, it piles up,” continued Marquis. “Firefighters need nurturing people to help the deal with things that happen, especially the volunteers, because they come from small departments that may not have networks for help, and small towns where, chances are, they know the person they’ve trying to rescue.”

But, Marquis said, ministering means “being of service” to those in need, not preaching the gospel.

“God is there for you, and it’s your job to be there for that person in need,” she said.

“One thing you don’t do is proselytize,” agreed Douglas.

“A lot of what you do,” he jokes, “is bring coffee and doughnuts.”

Douglas actually helped found the Federation of Fire Chaplains back in the ‘70s and, at 85, he’s seen a lot of change in the fire service since he first jumped on a truck in Houlton in 1955. He traveled the country as a minister for the Salvation Army, joining up with the fire department in each town where he stopped for any length of time, often working as a firefighter, always serving as station chaplain.

“Over the years, we’ve always been there to meet the need, whatever that might be, but it’s more acceptable now,” said Douglas. “Today the chaplain is more recognized and accepted more than he had been.”

Jordan said that’s especially true since 9/11, which in many ways broke down the final barriers in what, in many part so the country, was still an “old boys’ club.”

Jordan has seen six of his fellow firefighters fall during his 33-year career, he said. He knows how hard it can be to lose a brother, or sister, of the service, and how important the regalia of a Level A funeral service can be.

Its pomp, said Simmons, speaks to the manner in which a person lives, in service to his or her community, as much, if not more, than of how that person died.

But if there was one message in last weekend’s chaplain training, it was of that service. Fire funerals are important, but there real reason fire chaplains exist is to help shepherd victims through a time of crisis.

“While the firefighters are focused on putting out that fire, or working on a patient, they have to focus on that,” said Lotz. “Meanwhile, the family is there hurting, and they need attention, too. That’s who the fire chaplain is there for.”

“You stay with them the whole time and help them through the process, of anything that may be going on,” said Jordan. “Like the fire department, the chaplain is there to do something good for you, even if it’s just putting a reassuring hand on a shoulder in a time of need.

“Then, we assist families with whatever needs to be done to get back into the mainstream again,” said Jordan, “whether it’s saying a prayer together or following-up on all those nitty-gritty things it takes to get one’s life back in order.”