Our day started at 2:15 in the morning. We are awakened by the loud, fluttering noise of the alarm clock. From a deep sleep we are now racing towards the pole. A loudspeaker filled with static informs us that we are about to face a car crash with a person stuck inside in the southeast part of the city. I put on my pants and bunker jacket and climb in as the truck pulls away and the bay door opens. Lights on. Scale 1 along the route. The city skyline disappears behind the truck as the red lights reflect on the side of the staircase. The writing "Capitol City" painted on the side. The siren screams as Tommy speeds the truck through the city streets. Somewhere there is a man trapped in the wreckage of what used to be his car. We were called in by Engine 10 to extricate him. I pray along the way. Pray for protection. Pray for speed and competence upon arrival. Ask for the angels to be there with us. The truck begins to idle and the brakes squeal as we approach the scene. The air brakes hiss and the doors open. Feet on the street. Scale 1 on the scene. I stand up and see my Captain, a short, stocky man, zipping up his jacket. “It's a pin-in, get the tools!” I open the compartment door and he grabs the large cutters. I grab the hydraulic pump and throw the lines over it. It's heavy in my arms, its weight making me walk awkwardly. As I walk around the truck, I take in the scene. White car, four doors, on wheels, head-on collision with a light pole, serious damage, access to patient through driver's door impossible, police blocking traffic, EMS on scene, Engine 10 crew working feverishly , 1 patient being treated, IV started, unconscious, damn male, between twenty and thirty-five. Hard to say. I put the pump down, run back to the truck, and grab the heavy... center of paper...» And for the first time since our arrival, his eyes open. they load him into the ambulance, the doctors get in and the doors close. We watch the ambulance disappear down the street and around a corner, its reflective lettering temporarily flashing, as it passes under the streetlights. We clean up, put the tools back on the truck, all talk for a minute and shake hands. Our three trucks head in 3 different directions through the intersection. I exhale the accumulated tension, feel relaxed a little and give thanks. We're heading back to the quarters, the truck bumps and bounces, when I see the red lights come on. Again the reflection flashing on the side of the Staircase. The siren comes on and starts screaming, and Tommy hits the accelerator. I look at the clock, my face lit by its little green glow. It's 3:05 in the morning. Scale 1, along the route.