A Salute to the Old Ambulance

As I was exercising at my station the other day, I needed to walk behind an old apparatus that obstructs my exercise route. If I’m honest this vehicle is an annoyance to me and seems to always be in my way. “It just needs to go," I consistently think.

This specific vehicle is an older, out-of-service ambulance. As I continue on my walk, I pass by my engine. "So pretty,” I say to myself, and maybe I give it a little “admiration tap” as I pass by.

As I proceed around my route and keep passing these two vehicles, my figurative wheels start to turn. Why do we admire, praise, adore, and literally sometimes create tributes to our older fire apparatus, but ignore, or perhaps even have a feeling of contempt for, our older EMS vehicles? It’s a strange juxtaposition to me. Sure, the fire engines, ladders and heavy rescues are larger and louder, cost more, and usually receive a more “cool” reaction from the public at events or parades.

I don’t know how many public relations events during fire safety month I attend where nobody cares about the “boring ambulance." But has this ambulance not served its duty as well? Possibly even more than the other vehicles? The things that this particular vehicle may have seen, the people it saved… It made me start to think about the vehicle itself.

This particular squad started its life as a primary response ALS unit in a very busy area of our county. Probably running 15–25 times per day, dealing with every type of patient imaginable, on all types of unsavory Midwestern roads, muddling through summer heat and humidity, bitterly unforgiving cold and snowy winters, and untold miles. All until it had reached its life expectancy at this level.

The vehicle was then repurposed and restickered as a backup unit in a slower area of the county, until finally it just became too used, too worn, too costly to keep up and cheaper to replace. Now it sits, blocking my way, awaiting its next journey. Will it stay as my station obstacle? Does its near future include another repurpose, and even more stickers? Potentially for a construction company or maybe a plumber (we’ve all seen it)?

I’m not sure. My department hasn’t decided its fate either. But does this truck not deserve some respect? Think of what it's seen! The types of calls it went on. Who was in it? Perhaps a celebrity, or a dignitary, even one of our own. I guarantee it transported plenty of newsworthy local patients over and over again.

What about friends and family? They may been in there as well. Would someone who lost a family member want to know this may have been the last vehicle they were alive in, or conversely, the one they were saved in? I would want to know. I can’t help but think of the things it’s potentially seen and been an integral part of. This truck has an extensive history. It deserves a pristine medal, not rusted metal.

But this is our way. I’m not sure why, I’m not sure I even disagree. Ambulances seem to be disposable and our firetrucks in some way always purposeful, even when their time is up. Sure, I see rusted firetrucks in used auto lots, in junkyards, and even being used for private industry, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near the number of times we see used ambulances.

I’m sure in some way, they’re like many of us. Retired, but continue to do something, just to remain useful in our community somehow.

But for now, it sits. Still in my way. However, after pondering all of its potential history, I don’t despise it anymore. I respect it. Rather than groaning about it on my next walk, I just think of the many potential lives it helped save, the workload it had to carry, day after day, mile after mile, until that last call when it was parked here for the last time.

No, now I don’t mind it being here. It’s earned the rest, and maybe every now and then even a little admiration tap.

Michael Ford, NRP, is lieutenant of information and technology at Springfield Township Dept. of Fire and EMS in Holland, Ohio.