History Lesson

Once again, a class of fresh-faced shiny recruits swells our ranks. I do not anticipate The Ambulance Guy will be called to address this class, but this will not stop him from lending his years of wisdom to these impressionable young minds. Thank God for the power of the Pax.
Rather than the wonderful advice offered in a previous column, this time I would like to offer the recruits a brief lesson in BEMS history. Trust me, you will not find this history in your new employee handbook.
Fear not, this is not your typical “things used to be so great blah blah blah blah” speech you hear from some veterans. Just a look at the way we used to be some good some bad, some embarrassing.
The Ambulance Guy does not claim to have been a grizzled vet when the first horse-drawn ambulance left the barn. (There are folks here who were, and I would love to hear their observations- send them to TAG c/o the Pax and I'll see that they make it into a column down the road.) Just consider this a brief, recent, history of a very young organization.
Should the new recruit need advice (and you all do) you can go to www.publicsafetyphoto.com and click on recent Ambulance Guy articles. You can also look at some excellent public safety photos by staff photographer/videographer Ken McCarron; it’s his website.
This is how things used to be (in no particular order.)
Everyone referred to us as “H&H” not Boston EMS.
Where we now have the city patch, most folks displayed the national registry patch.
The uniform store was where McDonalds now stands on Mass. Ave.
You had your choice of shirt, pants and a jacket, and it still took forever.
Everyone had a brown leather jacket.
Cuffs were displayed openly. The mace and sap less so.
We kept bats behind the seat, and not for softball practice.
Trucks had big gas engines and went FAST. They came to supply with nothing; you had to customize them yourself. They always overheated in the summer and the ac almost never worked. It was not uncommon to see a truck with its’ back doors held open with nine foot straps going to a call to cool off the back. SOP was to drive with the hood latch open to cool off the engine. The main kept bankers’ hours. If you broke down after 16:00 you waited (forever) for a tow then changed into an empty (unstocked) spare. If you had a flat, they would give you a spare and a jack.
The hi-idle was a sandbag on the accelerator.
If you left one light on, the truck would die.
The siren was mounted above the cab. What’s that? I SAID THE SIREN WAS MOUNTED OVER THE CAB!!!!!!!!!!!!! (You think we veterans are aloof! We’re really just deaf!)
In some trucks, you had to shut off the emergency lights to use the c-med.
The front beacon would freeze if you washed the truck in cold weather.
There was one portable per truck. It had two channels and weighed about 8 oz
.
If you shut the truck off while racing to a call, it would back fire and send people running for cover.
Everyone wore Spot-Bilt coaches shoes and carried a big, six-cell flashlight (fight or flight?)
OT’s were not uncommon, and everyone went.
It was not uncommon, especially at night, for trucks to back up a neighboring district. You’d come out of a house and find another truck idling discretely up the street. You’d give them the “OK” sign and they would silently go back to their district.
There was no ambulance eight, ten, twelve, thirteen, fifteen, sixteen or eighteen.
A-5 covered the whole West Zone (plus JP) and was the second truck into parts of Roxbury and Dorchester.
There was no A-1 at night. A-7 came over to “the Boston Side” and covered Eastie, Downtown, Back Bay and Charlestown. No district was Geographically Isolated when you had a big-ass eight cylinder!
A-3 Changed at the main and was a float truck. (If you banged out, your partner would be re-assigned and A-3 would cover your district for the shift)
Trucks changed at 7:00,7:30, 8:00 and 8:30.
You had to wait for someone to die or retire (the former more common than the latter) to get a bid on evenings.
Three-person shifts were new, temporary and experimental.
After the “Stars and Bars” went home (around 16:00) the shift was run by the two seniors (what we now call Lieutenants) They wore Sergeant stripes and Brown shirts.
The Turret senior was in charge of the whole operation, his/her word was law.
The senior in the field responded to calls and handed out discipline. This was done one-to-one in private. Very little was put to paper and almost nothing got back to “the office”.
A parade of “Empty Suits” were sent by the “front of the hospital” to run the ambulance. Most were happy to leave.
In spite of the “tough guy” image we loved to present, medicine was serious business. If you blew a call, gave a lousy report or sent a lame C-med. report, someone would call you on it. You couldn’t call ALS just because you couldn’t figure out what to do. There was no hand-holding.
We had an excellent rapport with and respect from the nurses in the ER> People stopped and listened when you gave report, even if you had a Brown shirt on.
Paramedics were chosen and promoted on merit and sent to school on company time.
P-1 worked out of the main and P-2 worked out of the Faulkner.
There was no ALS at night.
We used Ringer’s Lactate and D5W. Mast trousers and osmotics. ALS calls took hours. The ALS motto for Medical calls was “The call’s not over until the drug box is empty!”
The black box weighed a ton. The green box (Precursor to the green bag) was too heavy to carry down the stairs with a patient and was used mostly as a step.
Backboards were wooden and full of splinters. Sandbags were full of sand. C-collars were made of foam. You had one ambu bag. If it got dirty, you washed it in the sink and splashed it with some Isopropyl. We had supply, but their motto was “you can’t have it”.
The preferred device for the COPD patient was the Venti mask.
The stair chair was maroon and looked like a chaise lounge.
You would sometimes be taken off a stabbing to go to a shooting.
You would sometimes be taken off the report of a shooting to go to a confirmed shooting.
A “well dressed” man down had a higher priority than a simple man down.
Calls were bumped down in priority until they went away.
The Privates did our calls, not vice versa.
If you recognized a particular address as a nursing home or clinic, you would advise the dispatcher and he would apologize then take you off the call.
Hospitals did not call 911.

The Fire responded to fires, mva’s and the occasional cardiac arrest. That’s it.
There were no ID’s on the radio. As such, anonymous comments like “meow”, “Just do the trip” and “Do your own calls” peppered the airwaves. (also “We need more trucks” which I’m thinking could use a comeback)
Some trucks found time in their busy schedules to respond to purse-snatchings, b & e s and assaults.
Calls to police stations were common but transports were rare. (As was documentation)
The South End was full of rooming houses and characters.
Downtown was quiet at night, except for the Combat Zone, which was like a Fellini flick.
The Winthrop was the preferred hospital for East Boston (or the EBRS for minor stuff)
The General never closed.
The Brigham ER was in Brigham Circle.
The City was……….well , The City.
A-2 was at the Brigham, A-11 was at the Carney. A-4 was at D-4 A-6 was at the MDC station on Day Blvd. A-7 was at the EBRS (then the fire station then the police station)
Checks came on Thursday morning and all the trucks would “slide” down and get theirs.
You could cash (and spend) your check at JJ Foleys’.
Evening guys (and gals) went to Foleys (and the Island in season).
Night guys went to Mass Ave for “two over hard, two down easy”. I’m told these were after hour’s clubs also.
Protective gear was a raincoat.
Real men (and women) didn't wear gloves.
Blood on your uniform was a badge of honor.
We had not heard of AIDS or Crack.
The Turret was on Berkley St. and had windows.
People would threaten to hurl other people out those windows.
The girls were tougher than the guys.
Your second day off was your double $$ day.
There was no mandatory OT, and in lean times (like now) we would go down two or three trucks….out of nine.!!!
Most of all, people were proud to wear a Brown shirt. No one assumed them to be stupid and/or lazy because they were “just” EMTs. It was not considered the entry-level uniform.
Enjoy your time here, boys and girls. Go out and make your own history.

AND DO YOUR OWN TRIPS!