The Murder of the Newton Fire Department: Part 2

August, 2006 - Arriving at Fire Station 1, located in Newton Corner, I met union president, Frannie Capello. I told him of my association with the FDNY, and explained to him that the local hardware store, Swartz True Value agreed to donate screens for the station house. Frannie thanked me for my efforts, but then explained that accepting the screens would effectively release the City of its obligation to provide decent living conditions for firefighters, which would include screens for the windows.

I learned from the FDNY that if you wait for the City to act on such requests, you would be waiting a very long time, perhaps forever. But Frannie said that they needed to hold the City accountable.

Two reactions came to me: Sadness that they were going to be without screens, dealing with mosquitoes and, second, a bit of relief that I was no longer responsible for the situation. Working with the NYC firefighters was taking a lot of time and energy, and I didn't know how I could possibly extend myself further. What if I wrote a letter to the local paper about the conditions; would that help? Would the comments of a non-Newton resident be more effective?

Frannie assured me that a letter would be appreciated, and that if I wanted to assess the conditions of other fire houses, to be sure to visit Stations 7 and 3.

The next day, I went to Station 7, and found another ordinary brick fire house on Elliot Street. I parked and walked to the back of the station, and entered the garage where mechanics were working. I introduced myself to the mechanics, and explained that I was there to evaluate the conditions of the building.

One of the men handed me a piece of concrete and pointed at the ceiling. There were huge cracks, and many places where more concrete had fallen away. I asked if I was standing beneath a 20-ton fire truck. The mechanic said yes, and was amused when I moved toward a supporting wall to continue my interview. In New York, the floors of the older fire houses have jacks beneath them, as many as 50 in some cases, to support the weight of the fire engines. There was nothing about that ceiling that made me feel confident.

I walked up a small hill to the front of the station, where two firefighters stood in the open bay door. I told them their union president had sent me, and they invited me in for a tour.

The building, as predicted, was in very bad shape. Immaculately clean, but extremely shabby, in desperate need of paint. Tiles were missing or completely worn through from years of foot traffic. Toilets were broken, leaking through the ceiling to the apparatus floor. Water dripped and poured from countless faucets and shower heads (it would later be calculated approximately 200,000 gallons were wasted each year). The firefighters told me they had been leaking for years. They had given up writing reports about it, because nobody cared. The furnace broke down repeatedly in winter. The firefighters had to provide their own air conditioners in summer. And; no screens.

It was worse than anything I had seen in New York. But what bothered me was: This was Newton, one of the richest cities in the country. Why would their firefighters be living in such deplorable conditions?

(To be continued…)


































The shower that never stopped leaking....