Interviews for FD edited
Frank Boisclair September 2, 2019 In 1957, three guys got sworn in as privates, and before their careers were through, all three became Chief of the Pawtucket Fire Department. Frank Boisclair was one of them. He was twenty-two-years-old and fresh out of the Navy when he raised his right hand and took the oath downtown. He and his beloved wife Audrey raised two sons that went on to become pillars of both the Police and Fire Departments. We sat down in his basement surrounded by scrapbooks and memories twenty-six-years after his retirement. This is what he said … FB- Let’s go back to the old days. 1957. I was on Rescue 1. They had just been created six months before. TT- So Rescue 1 was created in like 1956? FB- Yes. TT- What was it back then? Was it a station wagon? FB- No. I have the pictures right here if you would like to see it. (The old Rescue 1 was big and looked like an ice cream truck.) The driver’s job was to carry the oxygen tank up to the second or third floor. And by the time you got up there, you needed it yourself (laughs). (He shows me a pic of himself and the original Rescue 1 at a car accident.) TT- Cars back then were all steel and metal, no airbags. That looks like it hurt. So let’s start at the beginning. How old were you when you got on? FB- I was seventeen when I joined the Navy. I did four years, so I was twenty-two or three. TT- Navy for four years? What did you do? Where did you go? FB- All over the world. Korea. I was on an aircraft carrier. TT- What was your job on the carrier? FB- Boiswain mate. TT- What? FB- Small boats. TT- Did you see any action? FB- Our planes did. (There’s a map of the world on the basement wall. Different colored push-pins show where he and his two sons, Mark and Dave, were during their time in the Navy.) I’m in white, my oldest son’s in Red, the one who passed away. And the blue one’s are Mark’s. TT- So you were twenty-two? You got on with Joe Burns, Thurber… FB- About the same time. They were six months after me. They weren’t allowing brothers on the job at the same time. Joe Burns, his brother was on the rescue, and Bob Thurber, his brother was on the Police Department. So they weren’t allowing brothers. TT- Why? Were they trying to prevent nepotism? FB- I don’t know. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you this yet, but the guys used to have to go out and do crossing guard duty for the kids, to and from school. TT- I had heard that. I heard you guys had to show up for work in your dress blues, change into your tan khakis, and then had to change back into dress blues to cross the kids. Did they send out the junior guys? FB- Not always. Anyone up to lieutenant. And details, we didn’t get paid for them. (A detail is when a firefighter will be sent to a public or private event when a certain number of civilians are expected to attend. IE- baseball games, concerts, church bazaars…) If a storm was coming, you stayed over for free. No pay. TT- How many guys were on the job when you were doing the two-platoons system? FB- I got on right after they created the third platoon in 1955. TT- Are we talking seventy guys on the two-platoon system? FB- Something like that. TT- And after the third platoon was created you had to go up in manpower, right? FB- What they did was give you days off, they call them the Kelly Days. Every three weeks you got an extra day off. But they didn’t pay you. If you had a detail on Main Street, that money went upstairs, not in your pocket. TT- When there was two-platoons, those guys worked like 80 hours a week, right? FB- That’s true. TT- I heard they were allowed to go home for meals only. FB- It was four days on, four days off. Straight through. No overtime. TT- So Rescue 1 is 1956. FB- Joe Burns’ brother was on it. And Elmer King. So when I got on, that’s when they started the third-platoon. This is picture of all the guys at Station 2 when I got on. Ray Murray is there…all these guys. This is a pic of my academy class. TT- What was your academy like? What did they do to you guys? FB- We trained with ladders and hoses, plus at the time there was a tower near McCoy Stadium. We trained on that. TT- Was it a part-time, unpaid academy like ours was? We showed up after work two nights a week and Saturday for eight hours. FB- No, this was during the day. TT- Did you go right on after the academy? FB- Yes. I did. Most of these guys went right on. Joe Burns and Bobby Thurber were right behind me, like I said. TT- So basically you went from high school to the Navy to the Fire Department. You never really had an outside job then, right? FB- Wrong. I worked in a mill on the side. TT- Everyone had a job in the mills. TT- So when you got on, they were dispatching Box Alarms…talk to me about the system. Because I’ve heard stories about this guy, Stretch Tuit, who would be able to hear the clicks when the microphones opened up, and he would count the clicks and know which box was coming in? FB- He was downtown, so the Alarm Room (dispatch) was right there. The same place it is today. TT- So the boxes would come in on a ticker-tape? FB- Yes. TT- And they would read the ticker-tape… FB- And that would be in the Alarm Room, and they would set it up and send it out to the stations. TT- They were on radios, right? The stations had them but the men didn’t. FB- Yes. Hell, we didn’t even have air-packs, much less radios. We used to use sponges. TT- We’re gonna get to the sponges in a second. So when you got on it was three dayshifts, three nightshifts, three days off, right? FB- Yes. TT- And for like a hundred bucks a week, right? FB- No. We made $100 every two weeks after taxes. TT- Wow. Fifty bucks a week for 72 hours of work. FB- Audrey (his wife) could tell you that. TT- There was no minimum manning either, right? So if guys were out sick or on vacation, they closed trucks, right? FB- Or you got ordered to stay. TT- They ordered guys to stay for free? FB- Yes. TT- Jesus Christ… FB- (laughs). It’s a different world today. Some of you guys don’t take overtime. That’s a luxury we never had. There was three of us, Thurber, Lundegren, and myself, we all worked for Costigan’s Ambulance. TT- All three of you made Chief, right? FB- Yes, but there’s a nasty story on that one. (laughs) We all studied together, but in my stupidity—my name was Boisclair, so alphabetically I took the test first. And when I went back, I gave all the answers to them. (laughs) And they made lieutenant, they made Battalion Chief, and finally I says to Audrey, “I ain’t giving out no more information.” (laughs). TT- Did they have Captains back then? FB- Yes. My grandfather was a Captain on Hose Company 6. TT- Where did you go once you got on the job? FB- Rescue 1. TT- That was downtown? FB- Yes. Station 2. Which at that time was on Main Street. TT- And how long were you on that? FB- Six years. TT- Wow. And then where did you got? FB- Engine 6. On Central Avenue back then. It was Hose Company Number 6. Now, the fire stations, Station 1 was West Avenue, Station 2 was downtown, Station 3 was on Division Street on the hill, Station 4 was on Broadway, and Station 5 was on Smithfield Avenue. Station 2 was Engine 2 and Ladder 1, Station 3 was Ladder 3 and Engine 3, Station 4 was Engine 4 and Ladder 2, Station 5 had one truck, and Station 6 one truck. TT- So your grandfather was on the fire department, that’s like before World War II right? (Shows me a pic of grandfather on Hose 6.) That’s amazing. Look at those trucks. FB- I went to Engine 1 after the rescue, for a year, and then Hose 6 on Central Avenue. TT- Where did you go after Hose 6? FB- After they built the new Station 4 (1974) they consolidated Hose 6 and the old Station 4 into one station. TT- Did you make lieutenant there? FB- I made lieutenant around 1974. When the new station opened. The Engine 4 Lieutenant there was tough. Boy, was he tough. Frank Aveno. TT- Tough meaning what? A disciplinarian? FB- Yeah, but also some stupid things too. Like we had to wash underneath the truck every day and the wheels, the backs of the wheels. TT- These are the World War II guys, right? FB- Frank was on even before that. When I made lieutenant, and we went down to the new Station (4), I says to him, “You handle your shift and your crew your way, and I’ll handle mine.” TT- Everyone runs their own crew their own way, right? FB- We had a situation down at the 6s. One of the guys and I were very close. We grew up together, his brother grew up with us, his brother went into the Navy with me. He was on the fire department long before me. Ever hear of “The Edge?” It was a big nightclub, a big party place. So the box (alarm) for it came in that night. Actually, we had had an argument earlier in the night. It got a little heated. So the box came in, and I said, “Let’s go to the Edge.” He says, “Which way?” I says, “To the Edge.” “Okay, but which way?” I says, “Take a left, take a left, take a right,” you know, giving him directions even though he knew exactly where it was. We come back to the station, he’s driving, right? I said, “Let’s go.” He says, “To where?” I says, “The Edge.” “Which way?” I says, “Left, left, right.” Well, we did this three times. And the poor guy in the back-step was going crazy, he just wanted to go to bed. TT- So you were just trying to make a point? FB- Yes. Look, if you want to play games, I’ll play games with you. It ended up all right. He just wanted to show me, and I just wanted to show him. TT- Where did you go after the 6’s? FB- I made Chief. I wasn’t a Battalion Chief, either, I was a lieutenant. TT- What year did you make Chief? FB- 1988. I’m 84 years old, so the memory is getting a little slippery. One time, I got into some trouble. We were in negotiations with the city. There was Chief Monast, Lt. Bill Coleman, the mayor and myself. We were talking about different pay raises and all that. And I said, “Oh for Christ’s sake, we can’t even get a pair of pliers or a screwdriver.” That didn’t go over too well. Afterwards, Chief Monast came to the station and rang me up. I said, “Hey, that’s the way it goes in negotiations.” It’s not always pretty. And you have to speak your mind. TT- Were you around for the Hargreaves fire? FB- No. I had just left like a year and a half before. TT- Was Joe Burns the Chief when he died? FB- Yes. TT- Talk about the gear when you got on. We’re talking about tin helmets, rubber waders… FB- Yes. TT- Practically no safety, right? You guys would go in as far as you could and take whatever beating you did. And they gave you a sponge to breathe through. Talk about the sponge. FB- You had a chunk of sponge. If you had a hose-line with you you soaked the sponge, put it in your mouth, and went into the fire. TT- I heard you could only go in so far until the sponge starting heating up and cooking your throat from the steam. FB- It did. Now, on the ladder trucks there were three or four OBAs. That’s a Navy breathing apparatus. They were hooked to two lines. I never saw too many guys use it because it was a real production to get it up and running. TT- So the air-packs come into play in the late 60’s and 70’s right? And not too many guys wore them. FB- After they got used to them they did. TT- I heard a lot of the old-timers were like, “We’ve been putting out fires for a hundred years without them, so why start being a pussy now.” FB- (laughs) There’s a lot of history in these books. TT- There’s a lot of retired guys who have these scrapbooks that you have, and I would love to find a way or a place to store them all. That’s the ultimate goal, in order to preserve this history. FB- Downtown, in the cellar, it was loaded with history. We didn’t know how valuable all of it was. TT- Wasn’t there a flood down there and bunch of stuff got thrown out? FB- We had to get rid of the stuff, clean it up, you know? TT- It’s an oral history that gets passed down from generation to generation. Let’s talk about Star Gas. Were you working that day? (Star Gas was a transfer station where propane railcars were off-loaded into the small portable tanks we all use for our grills. But it was right in the middle of a neighborhood, and neighbors often complained about the smell of gas). FB- No. I wasn’t working, but I went in after everything exploded. I was at the 4’s when they told us not to bring the trucks onto that property for any reason. A crew (from Star Gas) over there took us up on top—it wasn’t the huge tank that was in jeopardy, but-- TT- How many tanks are we talking about? And I’m not talking about the small propane tanks that were exploding, I’m talking about the big-daddys. FB- It was a railroad car that was going to explode. The guys at the plant had told us, they showed us, they trained with us, so we’re riding down the road, my wife and I, and ba-boom! The small tanks were landing near the school and the church. TT- You’re talking about the Winter school, right? Star Gas was on Sabin Street, right? FB- Yes. TT- So these cannisters are landing on freaking Broadway. That’s like a quarter mile away. They’re falling out of the sky. It’s a miracle no one died that day. FB- Yes, it is. So, we didn’t know what to do at first. The guys that run the tanks knew what to do, but they wanted somebody up there to help. So I went up there with a couple of other guys and we shut the tank off. That was it. There was a thing on top of the train tanker that needed to be shut off. TT- So you climbed on top of a bomb, basically. FB- Yes. (laughs) TT- I heard that Brule and Bobby Burns and other guys were on a hoseline in front of the tanker just trying to keep it from exploding. FB- There were so many tanks inside that building, they were just popping off like fireworks. TT- And Engine 4 got melted, right? You said the lieutenant unknowingly drove it in there? FB- It got destroyed. TT- How long were you guys there? FB- All day, oh yeah, it was an all day thing. TT- Were any structures affected? FB- Not really. It was just the tanks taking off like rockets. It was like a movie you never wanted to see. It was scary. TT- I heard that if that railcar had exploded it would’ve taken out half of the city. FB- It would’ve. That’s not an exaggeration. It was also a densely populated area. But they, the Star Gas people, gave us good training. They did. So we had an idea of what to do if this happened. TT- Sounds like a once in a lifetime event. FB- It sure was. (laughs) TT- So 1980 is when Rescue 2 comes in and Ladder 3 gets decommissioned. FB- Yes. TT- So in the 1950s they were building I-95, and it tore the city in half. I heard there were a lot of fires after that. They were burning down everything because most of the houses near the new highway were basically worthless. FB- Yes. They were bulldozing them. And the fourth of July. Anyone ever tell you about that? TT- Oh yes. I heard the Fourth of July was chaos, like hundreds of runs over two days. FB- Once seven or eight o’clock rolled around on July 3 or July 4, you didn’t stop running until the dawn. All night long. People used to pour gasoline down the trolley tracks that ran through the city and light them up. The other side of the city was worse, Woodlawn and that area, but no one slept. TT- This was a city tradition going back a hundred years, right? People would stockpile mattresses and couches and garbage all year just to light it all up on the Fourth. FB- They lit everything on fire. (laughs) One night the Chaplain rode with us. And we were coming over the hill, and I said, “Now pay attention and be careful.” He couldn’t believe it. They were firing rockets at us, this is the truth. Rockets. The Chaplain says, “Oh Jesus!” TT- They had extra guys on, extra trucks on, they were burning everything. I heard the bonfires were stacked up as high as some peoples’ houses. FB- That’s true. Every street had a bonfire. Every street. We put one out and just went on to the next. As soon as the people saw you coming they would get upset that we were about to ruin their fun. But it didn’t matter. They just lit it back up after we left. At like 3 in the morning it would slow down, but it never ended. TT- What was the closest you ever came to dying, other than crawling on the railcar at Star Gas. FB- I fell through a floor on Front Street. We had a big fire over there. Leo Masse, I don’t know how he ever did it, but as I was going through the floor, he grabbed me. TT- So he actually kept you from going through the floor? Wow. FB- That’s what I said, too. Wow. (laughs) Another time there was three or four us that got gassed-- TT- Gassed with what? FB- Never found out, to tell you the truth. TT- Everyone has a couple of moments during their career, right? FB- How many years you got on now? TT- Ten. FB- Well, you’ve had a few too. TT- I had a buddy on the job come up to me. Long story short, he was hanging out with his brother, and they hung out for an hour or two, and they ran out of things to talk about. So the brother left. We were at Asher’s fundraiser, so it was all firemen. He says to me, “As close as I am to my own brother, I can hang out with anyone of you guys, anywhere, for any amount of time, for hours and days, and we all have stories about each other. Like I can point to any guy here and tell you a story about that person at a fire.” Then he says, “Remember West Avenue?” And I didn’t. So he tells me, “Remember when I was on that pencil ladder on the third-floor poking my head into the attic?” Well, the ladder kicked out and he was about to go down the burnt-out stairwell, and by chance I just happened to be right behind him and grabbed his legs before he fell. I didn’t think anything of it and actually forgot the whole thing ever happened. So that day he says, “That’s what I remember about you. You saved me from whatever nightmare was waiting for me at the bottom of that stairwell.” And I had totally forgotten it. FB- Oh, you remember. TT- But it’s true. I can do the same thing and point at somebody and say, “He or she did that, he or she did this …” It becomes your family. FB- The worst time I ever had on the job, on the rescue, we entered a cellar. The door was on an automatic closer but you could still squeeze in. Well, this poor kid went in to get his sled and the door slammed on his neck and killed him. That was the worst. And even worse than that, one night we had a fire where five kids died. I wasn’t working, but it was a real heartbreaker. Japonica Street. TT- Oh, man, I’ve heard this story. Weren’t they on the second-floor and couldn’t get out? FB- Yes. And one time, me and Elmer had a guy hit by a railroad train. We picked him up in baskets and then went out for breakfast. But that’s how you had to be. If you were on the rescue, you saw so much damage and suffering and carnage, you had to be that way. You had to move on. Time to move on. Or it would get you. But that little kid, 60 years later I can still see his face. The door just snapped his neck and suffocated him. TT- The suicides are tough, too. Lot of awful things. I don’t think regular people realize how many people kill themselves every day. A cry for help is a lot different than someone who wants to die. That person steps in front of a train or pulls a trigger and it’s all over. FB- Nasty stuff to see. And the drugs today, if your family grows up and no one gets hooked on anything or dies, you’re ahead of the game. TT- That Fentanyl stuff is so bad now it sometimes takes eight vials of Narcan to bring them back, when it only used to take one for straight heroin. Let’s talk about EMS, because it really didn’t exist until the early 80’s, right? FB- Yes. It’s nothing like it is today. TT- I mean people just sicker and more obese every year. I read somewhere that there are 30 million diabetics now, and 80 million pre-diabetics. Those aren’t good numbers. That’s like a third of the country. FB- I think people started using the rescue in a way they shouldn’t. It’s not a taxi. TT- Exactly. A lot of people tell us, “Well, if I go in by ambulance, I’m not going to have to sit in the waiting room.” Which isn’t true, because the hospitals are so overwhelmed, unless you’re having chest pain or can’t breathe, you’re going right to the waiting room anyway. Calling us or not calling us is not going to save you from the waiting room. Somehow this idea got out there. And the rescue is a charged service. It’s like $500 for the ride, and if we use oxygen or IVs or anything else, the charges just go up from there. Like a buffet of charges. And once the cities figured out they could make money on the rescues, now they can’t put enough of them on the road. They’re a revenue stream. We’re trying to create Rescue 4 right now, and the only way the city has proposed doing it is by either closing Engine 3, which does 3300 runs a year, or going to two-man ladder companies and taking those guys and putting them on Rescue 4. Now, this is four months after Lt. Asher got half his leg cut off in an unfortunate accident. FB- Speaking of the 4’s, there used to be a green table in there. Next time you’re there go find it and look underneath it. There’s a lot of signatures underneath it, a lot of history. TT- I’ll look for it but I don’t think it’s still there. As far as your career goes, do you have any regrets? FB- No. TT- When did you know it was time to retire? FB- I just got to a point. 36 years is a long time. 1993. I’ve been off for 26 years. My son went on in 1988. TT- Dave was 1988? What a great guy. He would literally do anything for anyone. Born teacher, too. His passing was devastating. (Dave Boisclair died of job-related cancer in 2016. He was only 57 years old.) FB- It showed. It showed in his funeral, all the people that came out. When he was in hospice, there had to be seven or eight guys in there all the time. And all of a sudden Dave says, “I would like a margarita.” I don’t who it was to this day-- TT- I know who it was. Mike Dawson. FB- Did he? TT- I think so. I think he’s the one who made the margaritas. Want me to write his name down? FB- Yes. I never knew who it was. TT- Dawson loved Dave. We all did. That was a sad time. I know you don’t want to get into it-- FB- No. As far as I was concerned, the Fire Department, the union, was excellent to my family. I can’t fly, but they sent my wife, my daughter-in-law, and grand-daughter out to Colorado when they put his name on the plaque. TT- There were some Thurbers on that flight too, right? FB- Yes. Young Thurber gave the flag to Laurie. Now, there’s a new organization, The Southern Bikers, they were down the station the other day. When anybody dies on the job in southern New England, they ride their bicycles to the place. They’re excellent. All different fire and police departments too. Excellent. They just gave a check to my daughter-in-law from their organization. They’re great. My family really appreciated it. TT- Chief, thank you for having me in your house. FB- Stay safe. (At this point we start going through his voluminous scrapbooks) He shows me a newspaper picture and story about someone kissing a goat. FB- You ever hear of Spike Levesque? TT- I heard Spike Levesque was a legend. Heard he was a rescue guy that could talk to anybody. He de-escalated most things. FB- Well, he was in the Army and I was in the Navy. There was a bar in the 3’s. Spike ran the bar. We used to bet on the Army/Navy game every year. Well, one year I says, “I’m gonna fix this guy.” Navy won that year, so I got this goat, and had guys with drums and bugles and bagpipes, and we marched up the street with this goat. We brought him into the bar and Spike had to kiss him. Well, the next year Navy lost. Spike gets a donkey and brings it into the bar. I don’t know how anyone didn’t get killed. Now, all the guys in the bar are feeding the donkey booze. TT- The donkey’s cocked? FB- The donkey’s cocked. (laughs). Boy, we had a lot of laughs. A lot of laughs.
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AuthorTom Trabulsi was born in the Midwest, attended high school in Rhode Island, and graduated from Boston University with a degree in American History. He was a bike courier in Boston and New York City, worked construction in the mountain west and east coast, and is currently a firefighter in a northeast city. Archives
August 2022
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