October 19, 2007 was a
Friday as it is today, five years later.
My day was spent in Fairfax finishing up the last day of the rope
component of the City of Fairfax Fire Department’s Rescue Engine School. My initial plan was to stay up in
Fairfax as I worked a normal shift the next day and didn’t want to contend with
the traffic I-95 southbound produces on a Friday. However, we finished class at a decent hour and I decided to
head south to Stafford.
Thankfully, deciding to head home to Stafford unknowingly provided me
with an opportunity that I was fortunate enough to get. The opportunity to hang out with a friend one last time.
I made good time on
the trip home and arrived at “the 2080”, the old Company 2 firehouse, around
1600 hrs. The usual crowd of
“live-ins” and “regulars” were hanging out and we had the Engine and Truck
staffed. Rain was in the forecast,
however it had yet to arrive and we were all hanging out in front of the
firehouse with the bay doors open (as they were almost always kept, we didn’t
want the bay doors slowing down our turnout!). Jason Mooney, a good friend to many of us and one of our
“regulars”, was a Stafford Sheriff’s Deputy and that afternoon he did as he did
many times before: he stopped by the firehouse prior to his night shift with
the Sheriff’s Office.
We did as we often did
and gave Jason a hard time about being a cop since he showed up to the
firehouse with his cruiser, decked out in his Sheriff’s Deputy uniform. It was all in fun and Jason gave it
right back to us. We decided to
mess with him a little more and turn on the emergency lights and sirens in his
cruiser while it was parked in front of the firehouse. This would get him all worked up since
the Sheriff’s Office was in very close proximity to the firehouse and being the
new guy there, he didn’t want to risk getting in trouble for having his siren
blaring for no reason. We also
decided to put another one of our buddies, Daniel “The Hamburglar” Davis, in
the back seat of his cruiser and get a bunch of pictures (yes, there is a story
behind the nickname which was the whole reason for the pictures). I know, stupid right? Oh well, it was
funny to a bunch of easily amused firemen. After we decided we’d goofed off enough (for the time being
anyways), we sat on the front bumpers of the rigs talking about whatever. After a while Jason had to go to roll
call across the street at the Sheriff’s Office and told us he’d swing back by
the firehouse later that night as he was working in a “North End” zone for the
night.
Shortly thereafter, a
few of the guys headed out and we dropped back to only one crew. The night seemed like any other Friday
night as we checked the rigs, ate dinner, and planned on doing a drill. A pretty steady rain had begun to fall
and soon we were dispatched for an “Auto Accident-Vehicle Overturned” on I-95
Northbound. This type of call is a
fairly common occurrence, especially in foul weather, for our company due to
our proximity to the interstate.
The Engine Company was stacked with people and since I was an officer, I
responded with the Engine Company in a support vehicle. In addition to our company’s response,
another Engine, Rescue Squad, and EMS resources responded to this
incident. The other Engine, Engine
9, ran the southbound assignment from Rt. 610. I followed behind our Engine during the response and we were
coming out of an “Emergency Vehicle Only” cross over at the 140 mile marker
when Engine 9’s officer transmitted a message I will never forget. Engine 9’s officer, a good friend of
mine, stated that a Sheriff’s Deputy had wrecked in front of them at the 142
southbound, to start a Rescue Squad, and that the Deputy was hurt. Seconds after this transmission was
made, we arrived on the scene of the originally dispatched accident. Engine 2’s officer advised there were
two occupants trapped and I established the “I-95 Northbound Command” and asked
for another operations channel since both accidents were now on the same
channel. Early on in the incident,
I monitored both radio channels to get an idea of what was going on and to see
if I’d need to divert any resources to the other incident. Since our county didn’t have the fire
and rescue resources we do now, I ended up holding our incident with Engine 2,
Rescue Squad 1, and the EMS resources and diverted the Engine that had been
added to replace Engine 9 to assist on Engine 9’s incident. Engine 2 and Rescue Squad 1 had the
extrication completed in about fifteen minutes and due to the weather, both
patients were ground transported.
As the patients were being packaged I began to listen to the other
incident again to hear what the situation report was. I didn’t hear much other than a request for a Medevac, which
was going to be tough due to the weather.
Shortly thereafter I heard a Medic unit on the other incident’s channel
go enroute to MWH with “CPR in progress”.
Our incident was
deescalating, the suppression companies were cleaning up and the EMS units were
ready for transport. I ran over to
Engine 2 to check the notes of the other incident on Engine 2’s MCT, since the
vehicle I was in did not have one.
The only information in the notes I could gather was that the Sheriff’s
Deputy was from the same zone Jason was working in and that the Medic unit had
gone enroute to the hospital with CPR in progress. I immediately pulled out my cell phone and called Jason’s
phone. It rang a few times and
went to voicemail. I figured he
was probably at the other accident and busy there. However, I still wanted to know it wasn’t him so I called
right back hoping that back-to-back calls may help to convey that I urgently
wanted to talk to him. Again the
phone rang, playing the ringback tone that I’ll never forget: “Here I Go Again”
by Whitesnake. Again, it went to
voicemail. Now concerned, I called
communications on my cell phone and told them who I was and that I knew they
were extremely busy but could they tell me one thing: Was Jason the Deputy in
the accident? The dispatched told
me “Yes” and I hung up. I was shocked
and don’t remember exactly what I was thinking but I called Engine 2’s officer
over to me as the rest of the crew was still picking up. I told Engine 2’s officer, John Wehr,
the news and told him we needed to get to the hospital ASAP. The majority of the crew riding in the
back of Engine 2 was pretty young and we chose not to tell them all of the
details, other than the fact that Jason had been in an accident. We went back to the firehouse, since it
was on the way, and put the company out of service. Another officer at Company 2, Shawn Dunstan, met us at the
firehouse and we headed to MWH in the Engine and Utility. Having done this for a little bit, I
knew when the Medic unit went enroute with “CPR in progress” that things were
not looking promising.
When we got to MWH, as
expected, the ER was a mad house.
We made our way inside and the County Fire Chief, Rob Brown, was one of
the first people I saw. He said
they were still working Jason.
While the rest of our crew waited in the EMS restock area, Shawn and I
wandered down the hall and waited outside the room they were working Jason in. Shortly thereafter, nurses began to
file out and they all had tears in their eyes. I knew what the tears meant and it was only seconds later
that the doctor came out and confirmed that resuscitative efforts had been
unsuccessful. I have no shame in saying
it, I cried like a baby. While I
knew it was very real, the next few hours seemed surreal. How could this have happened? We had all just hung out with him hours
before. That was one of the
roughest nights I’ve had at the firehouse and it’s something I’ll never
forget. As sad and tragic as that
evening was, the brotherhood really shined in the days that followed. Additionally, the folks that worked at Jason's accident performed extraordinarily in the face of adversity that evening and should be commended for their efforts.
So here we are five years later and I look back on this
rough time and realize there are lessons to be learned from Jason and from this
event. Jason knew what it meant to
serve. He was a US Marine, a
volunteer firefighter, and a Sheriff’s Deputy. Too often in this day and age, folks forget what it means to
serve. All too often people ask
“What’s in it for me?” before they commit to doing something. Jason didn’t. Jason would also go the extra mile to help someone out even
if it didn’t convenience him.
Whether it meant he drove from Prince William to Stafford to keep our apparatus
staffed or you’d been out on the town while he was working and needed a safe
ride home, Jason would make it happen.
One of my favorite, and funniest, memories of Jason’s dedication to
service took place at an apartment complex in our first due. Jason was with his fiancée, Cat, and
Matt, another Company 2 member, looking for a new apartment when a bad
thunderstorm rolled through.
Lightning hit one of the buildings in the complex and started a
fire. I was the Truck officer and
we arrived quickly with our Engine to find fire showing. The fire was located on the exterior of
the building and in the ceiling between the second and third floor
apartments. I made my way up the
stairs and entered the second floor apartment to begin opening up, when I look
to my left and see some clown in a Deputy uniform hooking ceiling with a broom
or mop handle. I quickly realized
it was Jason, had a good laugh with him and “politely” asked him to go
outside.
Jason was also motivated to continue to better himself. In addition to being a member at our
firehouse, he was a member at a volunteer department in Prince William
County. We’d often give him a hard
time about this and he’d assure us he was dedicated to our department. As I said above, on more than one
occasion he’d make the journey from there to our firehouse to ensure we kept
the rigs staffed. Shortly before
his death, he’d begun his driver’s training on the Rescue Squad at his other
volunteer department. As soon I
found this out, I had a field day with him. I’d ask him various questions about the equipment on the rig
and he wouldn’t have a clue about it.
I’d jump his case about it and tell him that anybody worthy of being a
Rescue Squad driver should know this information. Sure enough he’d come back to me a few days later and
provide me with the answers to the questions I’d asked. He’d beam with pride only to have me
ask him something else that he’d stumble on. Jason knew I was doing it for his own good and would always
come back to tell me he’d been working on learning all of the information I was
asking him about. I remember one
of the last times I quizzed him about something, he proudly expanded upon one
of his answers and proceeded to tell me about the different types of vehicle
construction he’d recently learned in a class. This moment sticks out in my mind because I remember being
happy that Jason had become self-motivated and was becoming a better fireman
because of it. He got “it”,
something that some folks will never have.
The days following Jason’s death truly showed the strength
of the brotherhood and how far the reach of the fire service extends. It’s unfortunate it sometimes takes
tragedy to realize these things.
When everyone participates and dedicates to the fire service, it’s
amazing what can be accomplished.
Within a five day period I observed a firehouse get damn-near renovated,
fire apparatus got cleaner than it had ever been, a whole department got
outfitted in Class A uniforms, numerous logistical items were handled, and our
service to the citizens never got interrupted. All of this happened due to unselfish dedication to the
brotherhood from members of our own department, members of our own families,
career members of Stafford County Fire and Rescue, other volunteer departments
within Stafford County, Manassas Volunteer Fire Company, the City of Fairfax
Fire Department, Prince William County Department of Fire Rescue, and Fairfax
County Fire and Rescue Department.
Five years has gone by very quickly and it seems like just
yesterday I was goofing off with Jason.
While he is gone, his memory remains and the good times that people had
with him will last forever.
Jason’s positive contributions to the fire service and society continue
to live on too, with his service and dedication serving as a model and
motivator. Those who serve in
public safety or the armed forces have dangerous jobs and tomorrow isn’t
guaranteed, nor is it for anyone else but our level of risk is exponentially
higher than the average citizen.
With that said, take a moment to make sure you’re making the most of
everyday and living life to the fullest.
Don’t let the petty things get you down and don’t let stupid things
overshadow the important things in life.
Thanks for letting me take a few moments to remember our brother, Jason
Mooney.
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