Centre County first responders reflect on 9/11 while looking ahead to uncertain future
Even before the terrorist attacks, Sept. 11, 2001, was already a difficult day for Steve Bair. The fire company he worked for was laying off personnel that morning — foreshadowing a crisis decades in the making for Pennsylvania first responders.
Now serving as the Centre Region Council of Governments fire director and department chief, Bair had been working with a fire company in Lower Paxton Township, a suburban area of Harrisburg, when the planes hit the Twin Towers.
The magnitude of the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and Flight 93, which claimed the lives of nearly 3,000 people, including 343 first responders — firefighters, police and EMS personnel — didn’t sink in until later.
“I had engineers traveling all over the world,” Bair said. “The gravity of the day really did not hit me until late in the day when I had all of my employees accounted for and in a safe place.”
Emotionally, Bair felt the impact of 9/11 when he attended two funerals in New York City: one for Michael Carroll, of Ladder 3, in the Upper East Side and Vernon Cherry, of Ladder 118, in Queens.
“It was possibly the most emotional day of my life, and it is hard to tell someone about it without starting to cry,” he said. “After that day, I had a different outlook on life. I came to appreciate just how fragile and short it can be.”
Though a dark day for Bair, he doesn’t do anything formal to commemorate the anniversary. Instead, he pauses in the morning to reflect. He’s never been one to look back on things “that cannot be undone.”
Volunteer crisis has been decades in the making
Bair has been involved with fire protection since 1975. Over time, he said the meaning of “community” has changed and not always for the better.
“On the whole, people seem less tolerant of others, move inwardly and unfortunately, they are generally less involved with things that impose upon them in any way,” he said. “As a society, we take a lot of things for granted.”
This shift has been felt by volunteer fire companies and emergency medical services across Pennsylvania. Declines in volunteers have been decades in the making, according to numbers from the Pennsylvania Fire and Emergency Services Institute. The state counted some 300,000 volunteer firefighters in the 1970s but only 60,000 about 30 years later. This year, there are about 38,000 volunteers.
“In the case of emergency services, we all assume someone will come when we call for help,” Bair said. “Someone will come, but only if people volunteer to do so, or people agree to fund others paid to respond.”
No matter the labor — volunteer or career — fire and EMS service is “expensive to maintain,” he said.
“If you expect someone to come when you call, you need to help fund the system,” Bair added. “If you are able to volunteer, you should at least give it a try.”
COVID-19 furthering the financial stress
With longstanding staffing and financial challenges to overcome, the COVID-19 pandemic has only added more stress to emergency service companies struggling to recruit volunteers, pay their bills, update equipment and stay open.
Last year, Snow Shoe EMS and Port Matilda EMS announced they were struggling to maintain their services as finances became tighter and volunteer numbers declined. Though both have somewhat stabilized as memberships trickled in and donations were made, the crisis has not ended.
In a community update last week, Port Matilda EMS Treasurer Ken Maney told residents that while the service is “financially stable,” one of its ambulances is out of service for “costly repairs.” The second passed inspection but came back with a “long list of needed items” to maintain service.
“Keep in mind, with one unit already out of service, if something happens to 27-2, we will be unable to take emergency calls unless we borrow a unit from another service,” he wrote.
The pandemic and statewide mitigation efforts forced many companies and services to cancel their annual fundraisers — worsening the financial burden.
Canceled fundraisers add to uncertainty
Howard Volunteer Fire Company’s biggest fundraiser is the annual Fall Punkin’ Chunkin’ Festival, which contributes to 25% of the company budget each year. This year’s event was canceled.
Ever since joining the Howard Fire Company five years after 9/11, Mark Ott, the president, said maintaining the company and protecting residents has been his “main concern.”
Neither Ott nor the fire company have specific traditions to mark the anniversary of 9/11, but there are residual policies and practices that serve as their own reminders.
“There has been a lot more training with respect to mass casualty incidents, terrorist threats, active shooter, bomb and bomb recognition classes that a lot of us go through,” Ott said, adding that those courses have continued amid the pandemic.
But those trainings come at a high price, and with limited funding and restrictive state funding, that cost has worsened volunteer numbers.
This year, Ott encouraged residents to donate to their local first responders. Though many had to cancel parades, festivals and carnivals, Ott donated $25 to each company with an event he would have attended. These donations help keep gas in vehicles and purchase protective equipment.
But even fundraising efforts can deter volunteers, according to Bair.
“Surveys have show repeatedly that volunteers leave the service because they must spend most of their time fundraising to keep their organization operating,” he said. “When you call 911, do you want someone who is very good at cutting you out of your car, or do you want someone who is very good at making chicken BBQ? People who volunteer do not have unlimited time to give, so there is a genuine loss of training and skill maintenance when a volunteer must invest many hours in fundraising.”
From having to fight over who got to drive the firetruck to now struggling on finding people to volunteer, Ott estimated a 50% decrease in engaged volunteers — people who show up regularly at weekly work nights to do maintenance on the company’s equipment — since the 1990s.
Unless something changes, Ott expects companies will merge and in severe cases, close.
“Donations are basically keeping us prepared so that we’re there and ready when a call comes in,” Ott said. “If not, there could be a time when a 911 call comes in and nobody shows up.”
This story was originally published September 11, 2020 at 10:59 AM.
