Fire Police In Pennsylvania
This website was created as a service to all firepolice (sometimes referenced as fire police or just fp), but especially to the firepolice who serve the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. This website has been designed and created by Andrew Shecktor, a 37 year veteran of the fire service, serving during that time as an active fire fighter, firepolice officer and company officer for several fire companies, rescue squads and emergency organizations. Feedback is welcome, and requests for additional information also welcome. This is a work in progress, and is currently serving the purpose of an information repository. If you have a link or information pertinant to the firepolice, please pass them along. This is not a site intended as a resource site for general fire fighting or fire department information or police information, nor for flagger information, though some of the laws and concepts will still apply. Feel free to contact me at any time with questions or recommendations. Enjoy, and God bless.
Why Can’t I Cry?©2011
Andrew M. Shecktor |
| I was five when he died, he got sick and I cried. A kitty of grey, the love of my day. As a teen it was dad, and it made me so mad. Then it was mom and her sister, oh how grandma did miss her. Then grandpa was gone, and others would follow. To my room I would go, and there I would wallow. Over the years I’ve seen tragedy and tears. Fires and wrecks and kids dead on treks. Drug bloated teens, bad guys with blood on their jeans. I’d sit and I’d sigh, then I’d lay down and cry. I’d feel all their pain, I’d go back where they’d lain. I thought it was bad that I always felt sad. | Through a great many years I’ve helped others in tears. Helped them stay strong, helped them handle their fears. Like dogs guarding sheep we’d stand out in the street. Sometimes in the cold, sometimes in the heat. In the wind and the rain, while they fell down in pain, the fires were fought, sometimes ‘twas for naught. Now years have gone by and I don’t even sigh. People get sick, but I can’t even cry. My heart has gone hard, my tears have gone south. Not a whisper of sorrow can come from my mouth. Oh where have they gone, those tears from the past? Will I ever again cry? Perhaps not ‘till after I die. |