To survive fires

Nine fire fighters were buried in North Charleston, SC, on Friday, June 22, 2007. They died trying to extinguish a fire in a furniture store. Many of our leaders—local, state, and federal officials—spoke at their funeral expressing for all those present the values they believe we all share. Everybody listened. Nobody questioned.

Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff read a message from President Bush: "Their willingness to sacrifice for others demonstrated the true meaning of heroism," Chertoff read. "Each of the fallen will forever hold a cherished place in our hearts."

Charleston Mayor Joseph P. Riley Jr. called the men heroes. “They did what they and every fire fighter is prepared to do every day they put on their badge: to risk their life, and if necessary, to give their life, to make their community safe.”

Do these words honor the fallen firefighters? Did these brave men make a sacrifice? Is it the perceived sacrifice that makes their actions commendable?

I think not.

None of the dead chose to give their life that day. Every one of them upon entering the burning building had every expectation that they would be sitting down to dinner with their family that night. They knew they had chosen to do dangerous work. Each had trained long and hard to master the necessary skills. Each was equipped with the best technology available for self-protection and for putting out fires. Each chose this dangerous profession for his own reasons. All were well-compensated.

All are heroes, but not because they’re dead, Mr. President! The fact that they are dead is most regrettable. There is nothing good about it. They are heroes because they did their important work. They earned their self-esteem doing the dangerous work they trained to do. They were courageous men who deserve to be honored and who should always have our respect and our thanks. But it is not their deaths—or any sacrifice you might think they have made—that makes them worthy of our gratitude.

The purpose of their training and their gear was to survive fires.

The Assistant Fire Chief Larry Garvin said it best: "We went, with the training we have, knowing we could put the fire out and it just went awry," Garvin said. "Things did not happen like they normally happen. If there had been fire rolling out of those back doors, I wouldn't have sent them in. I don't care anything about a building."

For what these men have done to be characterized as a sacrifice, they would have had to willing walk into the blaze in order to die. They would have had to willing given up their highest value, their life, for a much lesser value, a building. That is what a sacrifice is. That is not what they did. That is not what any of us would want them to do.

A thousand years ago in the jungles of Central America our Born Again President would have been that tribal chief who dragged you up the steps of the ziggurat, threw you down onto the slab, and cut your beating heart out of your screaming chest so that the gods of the harvest would be pleased and the community would not starve. He would have thanked your bloody corpse for the sacrifice. South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford would have been standing right behind him saying something like: "Who we are crucially depends on what we're willing to stand up for in life. In short, are we willing to walk the walk?" he said. "They [the fire fighters] walked their walk right into the company of angels and to heaven's gate."

Anybody who chooses to do dangerous, necessary work [a fire fighter, police officer, or soldier] deserves our respect, our gratitude, and an excellent, tax-payer-provided salary and pension… something they can use while they live. Instead, our leaders glorify their unfortunate deaths, mischaracterize the nature of their important work, and offer their grieving families angels and heaven in compensation.

Everybody listens. Nobody questions.