Monday, November 11, 2013

Kyle Carlson - fighting fires and saving lives

Sometimes you know what you want to be when you grow up. Maybe you’re following in the steps of a role model. Perhaps a teacher or counselor has offered you guidance. Or maybe your inspiration comes from a favorite television show. The latter is true for Kyle Carlson.
Kyle Carlson (facing forward)
Kyle is a firefighter for the city of Olathe. “You remember that television show that was on in the 1970s, ‘Emergency’?” Kyle asked. “I got to watching it every time it came on.” He can’t exactly articulate what it was about the show that caught his attention – he was only a grade-schooler at the time. But something about watching the paramedics who worked out of the Los Angeles County Fire Department resonated with Kyle.
He became a firefighter/emergency medical technician in 1990, and works out of Station 5, near Kansas 7 and Spruce Street in Olathe. He is trained to fight all sorts of fires, work accident scenes, join in water rescues, offer medical assistance. “It’s exciting,” Kyle said. “I love my job. If I ever get hurt, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Kyle works a 24-hour shift on three out of five days, then has four days off in a row. He said that on average, his station receives five calls a day. Each day, and each call, brings an unknown. It could be a house fire, an attempted suicide, a person with chest pains, or victims needing to be extricated from wrecked vehicles. When he’s not on a call, he is checking equipment, keeping the fire station in order, and going for special training. Recently he participated in search and rescue training. “We don’t just sit there and play cards and watch TV,” Kyle said.
When a call comes in, the radio crackles to life with the voice of a computerized dispatcher announcing what and where. If it comes while the firefighters are sleeping, lights pop on. “We are supposed to be out the door in less than a minute,” Kyle said, “closer to 30 seconds if it’s a medical call.” Newer fire stations are generally built all on one level, so there are no stairs to impede, and no pole to slide down. Kyle said he usually wears his fire pants, but waits until he arrives at the scene to put on the rest of his gear. That’s because he drives the pump truck, which carries 500 gallons of water and is shorter than a ladder truck, and that extra gear is bulky when you’re trying to drive. Even though the gear is lighter than it used to be, it still weighs roughly 60 pounds.
Five trucks are dispatched to a fire scene. Kyle’s job varies depending on when he arrives. If he is first on the scene at a fire, he immediately begins pumping water. Otherwise, he might help assist hooking up hose to a fire hydrant or searching for victims.
There is an element of danger to many calls, especially those involving fires. “I had a ceiling fall on me,” Kyle said. “We went to a house fire. It was a big, big house. We stepped into what was the office, and heard a noise. The weight of the water pushed the ceiling down.” Another time, Kyle almost fell through the floor of a house that had caught on fire as it was being remodeled, but caught himself in time.
While these incidents can be harrowing, Kyle doesn’t focus on that aspect. He said his wife, Jenni, whom he met after he became a firefighter, doesn’t worry a lot either. She agreed, but said she does pay close attention to the news when she hears reports of a fire or car wreck, just to see if Kyle’s crew is involved.
Kyle has come to the rescue of more people than he can probably count, but he has seen his share of fatalities too. The worst experience for him was in 2004. “It was a house fire,” he said. “A mom, dad, and their three boys all died. Afterwards, we immediately all went for a session with the chaplain.”
A bright spot of the job is the thanks that firefighters receive from those in the community they have helped. Kyle said people stop by with brownies, or dinners. The praise is appreciated, but isn’t really necessary. “We don’t consider ourselves heroes,” Kyle said. “We’re just doing our job.”

Monday, November 4, 2013

Jack Messer - a football referee's point of view

Hey, all you armchair coaches, listen up. Jack Messer can tell you a thing or two about football.
Jack is in his 11th year as a football referee, officiating for youth at every level from fourth grade to high school varsity. It allows him to combine his love of sports with a sense of accomplishment, and earn a few extra dollars as well.
Jack Messer
Jack said he played sports in high school, and decided to stay involved by being a baseball umpire. He umpired for the next 10 years, until his second child was born. Then the demands of family life outweighed the time required on the baseball field. Sometime after his third child entered school, he got the urge to get back out in the sports world. “I got into officiating to make a little extra money,” Jack said. “What I learned is there’s a great need for competent authority in a game. That was attractive, and I felt I could supply that.”
Because he was familiar with the grind of baseball – the long season, games that could last hours, he decided to try football. After all, football was only a nine-week season, right? “I think the time idea kind of got away from me,” Jack said, noting that he is on the field several nights a week, and spends even more hours in game preparation and travel. But, he says, his wife, Lori, is a saint about it, knowing this is something he feels called to do.
When he first began officiating, Jack said that he had to keep track of his games on a paper calendar, writing everything down. Now it’s all computerized, and he works for five schedulers and can check his assignments on-line. The other big change has been in uniforms. Referees used to wear white knickers and knee-length socks, held together with a tight band of elastic. The black pants the refs get to wear now are so much more comfortable, Jack said.
One of the greatest traits Jack brings to his job is diplomacy. “As an official,” he said, “you are the greatest authority on the field. “ Jack said that officials can be as mean as they want, play hardline rules, kick out coaches and players. But he doesn’t choose to be that sort of official.  So, just how many players has he kicked out of a game? Zero. Coaches? None. “It never got to the point where I felt that should have happened,” Jack said. Instead he uses praise, humor, maybe a little bit of yelling. “I want to make sure everyone gets a fair opportunity,” he said. “That doesn’t mean equal opportunity.”
For example, Jack said, maybe he would let a holding call go if it had nothing to do with where the ball is in play. His use of praise isn’t idle either, but rather lets players know he is watching them. He calls it preventive officiating. His goal is to follow the rules, and be as fair and competent as he can. “I want the kids to feel like they’ve been treated well,” Jack said, “and I want the coaches to feel they had the opportunity to do what they do.”
Jack said he especially enjoys officiating in games with the little kids. “They love the game, they respect you, they’re really trying,” he said.  The parents of those kids are a bit more difficult, according to Jack. “They’re a little more protective,” he said. “The parents have a different set of expectations than what the games provide.”
In fact, it was in one such game, perhaps fifth graders, Jack said, that he had to take action he had never taken before or since, and that was to kick a fan out of the game. “It was a parent or grandparent,” Jack said. “He came at me on the field, swearing and yelling. Everyone was in shock. I kept walking away, didn’t want to engage him.” Eventually the sideline coaches and police got involved and escorted the fan away.
Since some fans do a lot of negative yelling, it’s best to try to tune them out. “It’s a heated environment,” Jack said. “Officials are the only people on the field who don’t have something invested in the outcome.”
For those who like to sit in the bleachers, or at home in their chairs, and offer critiques and second guessing, Jack has this advice: “There’s a shortage of officials, so come on out. It’s really very difficult. You watch players run into each other at 10 or 15 miles an hour. Things happen very fast.”
Jack said he has never been injured, but has been knocked down, once when a 6’5” offensive tackle knocked a linebacker into him on the first play of a game. He has to be in good shape, and usually logs four miles walking and running per game. As for pay, he gets $40 for a youth game, and $75 for a varsity game. He works at least twice as many hours for varsity, so that’s actually a cut in pay. For comparison, the average pay of an NFL referee is about $173,000 a year.
Jack said officiating and his day job as Director of Planning and Development for the city of Overland Park complement each other. He uses diplomacy in both. “I have to implement rules, and I have to do it in a fair way,” Jack said of his city position, “for the residents and the developers.”
Obviously Jack doesn’t officiate for the money. And he doesn’t do it for the praise. “When you work a good game,” Jack said, “no one says a word to you. To do a great job, you’re not noticed.” And that’s as it should be, because the game is about the players. For Jack, it ‘s all for love of the game and working with youth, illustrating for them that competence and fairness matter.

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