Messenger - Vol. 1, No. 3, Page 16 Spring 1992 Alumni Profile; Professional firefighter goes for the glow You always know what you'll be doing at a fire long before you get there. I usually drive the fire engine and hook up all the water and the hoses," says Sylvia Wasylyk, Delaware '79, a professional firefighter. But when the Hartsville (Pa.) Volunteer Fire Company took a call early in the morning on New Year's Day, someone else jumped into the driver's seat. Wasylyk took the jump seat-the "nozzle seat." "That meant when we got to the fire, I would be the first one to go into the burning building," she recalls. "When we arrived, we didn't see any smoke, but there was a ring of fire around the front door of this split-level home. We decided to go in the back way. "As we opened the door, smoke billowed out. I started to crawl in, wearing 40 pounds of equipment and dragging the hose with me. Keep in mind, I had never been in the house before. The smoke is so thick, I can't see a thing. I can't even see the floor I'm crawling on. Right away, I bump into something. It turned out to be the dining room table. I went to my left, still crawling and dragging the hose. Boom! I ran into a wall. I can hear the fire. I can hear glass breaking but I don't know where I am. I can't feel the heat because of the protective clothing. "I reach out and realize I've run into a curio cabinet. All sorts of little things start falling out and breaking. I remember thinking, 'I hope these aren't Hummels-something expensive that someone has spent a lifetime collecting. "The guy behinds me yells, 'Look for the glow,' and we go on looking for the fire. By now, most of the windows in the house are broken out, and the smoke is clearing a little. I can see the glow, but suddenly there's no more floor. As it turns out, it was a landing, but at the time I didn't know if the floor had burned away or what had happened. "We open up the nozzle and pour water on the glow. The water is all over the floor. The smoke has lifted, but now we have to do the worst part of any firefighter's job-look for bodies. "I took the hose upstairs to cover another firefighter. He pushes open a bedroom door and it won't open all the way. Our hearts stop, because we're afraid there is a body behind the door. It turned out to be a mattress. What a relief. "Then, it's time for another crew to come in and look for hot spots. As I'm leaving, all I can think is that this was someone's home. Now, there is water damage, the ceilings are scorched and blackened; heat and smoke have trashed the inside of the house; it looks like the carpet was really nice; the wallpaper is curling off and peeling. The only good news is that everyone got out alive. "It's only taken about 15 minutes, but I'm exhausted. I come out of the house into 18 degree weather. I put my helmet down, and a few minutes later, it is covered with ice. My gloves freeze in the position they were in when I took them off. "I wasn't afraid, at least not for my life, but I was scared that I would mess up." Wasylyk was named firefighter of the year last year by her peers at the Hartsville, Pa., Volunteer Fire Company. But, the award-winning involvement wasn't enough for her. "The more I got involved, the more meaningful and the more important the work became," she says. "I couldn't do the job casually on a part-time, recreational basis." So, now, she's the first and only woman professional, civilian firefighter at the Naval Air Station in Willow Grove, Pa., working 72 hours a week, while still staying active in the Hartsville company. Wasylyk, who resigned her commission in the U.S. Navy in 1990 to become a lieutenant commander in the Naval Reserves, says "a belief that what I'm doing is important" keeps her motivated. Although her job as a civilian firefighter pays about half of what she earned as a commissioned officer at the Naval Air Station, she says she is much happier. Becoming a professional firefighter hasn't been easy. At her first job at the Philadelphia Naval Yard, there were no provisions for women firefighters. There was one communal bunkhouse and one large shower room. She ended up sleeping in an unheated storeroom that was between the television room and galley, and then she had to contend with a union that said she was getting preferential treatment by having a single room. The only solution to the communal shower was the addition of a sign that she had to turn whenever she used it. Because the wait for a shower was so long, she frequently took her showers back at home-a 40-minute commute. At Willow Grove, a relatively new facility, the bunkhouse is divided into two-person rooms and there are shower facilities for both sexes. Because the Navy is very conscious of fire prevention, she hasn't had too many fires to fight as a professional. Part of her job includes conducting extinguisher inspections and testing alarms-all the mundane, boring, routine things that are important. "If you're going to be professional, you have to know and expect that part of the job is cleaning the station and equipment, and an endless repetition of drills," she says. For the Hartsville honor, Wasylyk was chosen by a committee of prior recipients. "They decide who's done the most for the company overall," she says. And, as a volunteer, she's done a lot, rewriting the company's procedures manual on the computer and becoming qualified to drive all the apparatus, in addition to gaining certification as an instructor at the Bucks County (Pa.) Emergency Service Training Center. "Firefighting has given a purpose to my life," she says. "It is something I can do that will make a difference. As a single woman, I can't create life. As a firefighter, I may be able to save a life. What can be more important than that?" -Bill Clark, Delaware '82, with Beth Thomas