#battalion 9

[bikerlovertexas]

[rabbitcruiser]

New York City installed first firehouse pole on April 21, 1878.

[rabbitcruiser]

Various Impressions from New York City (No. 5)

Engine 54, ladder 4, battalion 9 at 8th Avenue

Park Avenue Viaduct at 42nd Street

Lexington Avenue

The Bank Building

Park Avenue

New York Savings Bank, 8th Avenue

old pier in the Hudson River

hands-on fire-safety exhibit in the FDNY Fire Zone

Calvary Baptist Church

Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse

[cwobrien-blog]

The Day I Gave My Purple Heart Away

I was awarded a Purple Heart for wounds sustained in combat on 4/5/07. I got walloped by an improvised explosive device (IED) in Ninevah Province, Iraq somewhere south of Mosul. That incident created permanent loss of motion in my neck and back, a lifetime's supply of pain, PTSD, and a pretty nasty TBI that still gives me fits. When my war was over I went back home. I am from a small town and it was all the rage. Everyone wanted to see my Purple Heart. The local newspaper ran a story about it. I am sure my grandmother has it framed up somewhere..."Local Hero Awarded Purple Heart" or something like that. Every time they saw it, they wanted the story and I had to relive the experience all over again. I sure as hell didn't feel like a hero. I lost friends in Iraq. Other friends lost limbs. Compared to them, I was no hero. I was a guy that got lucky and lived. Over time the newness wore off. I was still struggling with my treatment. I had to relearn how to speak, to think, to deal with the headaches and the pain. It was a struggle but I was making it. The medal no longer caused me anguish and in fact helped me carry on. I was still alive. On March 17, 2012 I married my best friend. Instead of taking a honeymoon to some tropical climate, we went to New York. Neither of us had ever been there but we both had our reasons. The events in Manhattan on September 11th shaped my entire adult life. It was the reason I enlisted. My wife was impacted greatly as well. It just made sense for us. We agreed that I would find a new home for my Purple Heart somewhere in New York on our honeymoon. We toured the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. We went to Ground Zero. We went to as many 9/11 sites as we could find during that week but couldn't find a suitable home. On our last night in Manhattan we were walked through Times Square one last time and then walked down Broadway. As we circled back down 8th, we came across a fire station. It was the Engine 54/Ladder 4/Battalion 9 house also known as the Pride of Midtown. That house lost 15 good men on September 11th. If there was a home for my Purple Heart it was here. I didn't make a scene or anything like that, I just walked up to their memorial wall, set it down, and walked away. I don't know if they ever saw it...who knows whether or not some random passerby wanted it more than they did. I hope they found it. Over time, that medal gave me strength. I hope that it helped them. I hope that they realized that they weren't alone and that there were people out there that were willing to pick up the torch and fight the battles they couldn't. Even though I never met anyone from that house, they were my brothers just the same as the men I served with. Never leave a fallen comrade.