Last month at the resthome, we had a special job training session on some equipment that's used to evacuate residents down stairs in the case of a total building evacuation, so I woke up early before my shift that one day and came in and attended that, before my shift for the day started that day.
The guy who ran it was a (big) (older) (white) (retired firefighter) who showed us where his new pacemaker was put in, and his (slim) (younger) (blank-faced) (pony-tailed) son.
"We haven't worked together to give a presentation in a few years," he was like, and then he was like, "Don't you know, all firefighters have five or six jobs!".
And, he said that he did emergency management consulting for people sometimes, too, and that a number of years ago he consulted to a place with a bariatric facility on the second and third floor, and their plan in the case of an evacuation with a power outage was to bring people down the stairwells on mattresses.
"A four hundred pound person going down the stairs on a mattress," he was like. "Can you imagine that?"
He also told a story about evacuating a huge nursing home facility when there was a flood threat, and later he figured out the lines of command and he realized that he didn't have to obey the public health official who gave the order, and that he could have given an order and everyone could have sheltered in place like he thought was best.
"But it was all right, we didn't lose any of them," he was like.
He also said that he's helped out with situations where trains hit cars, too, and that train engineers say that suicides are the worst.
"Right before you hit 'em, your eyes meet," he was like. "Or, at least that's what they tell me."
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