WHEN the alarm sounded early one evening in 1997, Honolulu firefighter "John" (not his real name) jumped behind the wheel of his station's fire truck and waited for his fellow firefighters to climb aboard. As the engine approached a traffic light, its siren wailing and its emergency lights flashing, John saw the signal turn red. Emergency vehicles
and need for speedHe downshifted to slow the speed of the massive truck. When he noted that cars had stopped in all directions, he eased the emergency vehicle into the intersection, even though -- technically -- he didn't have the right of way.
That's when he saw it, out of the corner of his eye: a speeding sedan veering around the stopped cars and colliding right into the front side of the fire truck. Ka-boom!
John notified the communications center that the station couldn't respond to the alarm, so it could dispatch an alternate company. Then he jumped out and joined the other firefighters assisting the four occupants of the automobile. They weren't badly hurt, thanks to deployed air bags and buckled-up safety belts.
The most traumatized of all was John. "I was so shook up at the thought that those people could have been killed," he said, "that I really had to extend myself to remain calm and render aid."
After giving his statement to police and writing a report at the fire station, John submitted a urine sample for drug testing -- the standard operating procedure for city emergency personnel involved in vehicular accidents during the course of duty.
It was 3 a.m. when John went home. The next day, he was told that -- since he had passed the drug test -- he could return to work. But John, still reeling from the close encounter with tragedy, decided to take off four days before returning to the station.
Initially, John admitted, it was hard to get back behind the wheel of the fire engine. But he did it, and he still does it, because that is his job.
Last Monday night, the firefighters of the Makiki Station were trying to do their jobs, too. They had just pulled out on a call when their engine entered the intersection of Wilder Avenue and Kewalo Street against the light, and broadsided a car driven by 27-year-old Tracey Teruya. She died later at Queen's Hospital.
It was a terrible, terrible tragedy, one that is still causing anguish for the family and friends of the victim. All kinds of questions and comments soon followed. Why hadn't Teruya yielded to the fire truck's lights and sirens, like the other cars at the intersection? Why hadn't the fire engine been more careful about running the red light, even if it had been responding to an emergency?
INSTEAD of pointing fingers, though, maybe all members of the community should be asking themselves the following questions:
When we call 911 and ask for emergency assistance, do we want those vehicles to get to us as quickly as possible? Or do we want emergency vehicle drivers to stop at red lights like other traffic on the roads?