It is one fine, sunny Tuesday, May 29, 2018. I
was making my way in the vicinity of Quiapo, Manila, to a Chinese supplier for
my school. Parking is difficult so I decided to park in a nearby mall. Since I
was walking, and it was quite early, around past 8:00 AM, I decided to visit
the historic Quiapo church.
At 9:30 AM, all hell broke loose in the area of
Plaza Miranda, right in front of the Quiapo church. Smoke was billowing out of
one building, right across the plaza square. After a few tense moments of
uncertainty, 1 single yellow fire truck, sirens blaring, cut its path across
the square.
The yellow fire truck is the first responder on
the site. It had a motley crew of about 5 guys, and although some were still in
short pants, 1 guy was already dropping rolls of fire hose on the ground as the
truck screeched to a halt. The others now took the opportunity to put on all their
body gear.
I noticed that as they went about the rigors of
preparing and hauling their fire-fighting equipment, the crew barely talked. They
just looked at one another, made small gestures, and seemed to understand what
to do next. It is at this point that I noticed the driver, in short pants, who
was taking in low tones and giving quiet directions. His face was calm, and his
steadiness reflected on the rest of his crew. In less than 2 minutes, all of
them had entered the fire scene inside the building.
After another 5 minutes, many other fire
trucks, coming from all directions and in all the streets, converged at the main
square of Plaza Miranda. There were more than 20 of them, from my cursory
observation. The area was now in chaos, as different responders played their
parts. The police stood by to maintain security. A barangay tanod barked orders
in his shrill voice, over the megaphone, for the crowd to stand back and allow
more space for the fire fighters.
At this point, I noticed the third responder at
site, a red fire truck from Recto. Its commander, was a really fat guy who
bumbled about, straining to carry his weight. He was tense, as he shouted
orders to his crew, and at one point even pushing a man to carry out an order.
His demeanor was clearly absorbed by his men, who by now were strained as they
began their tasks.
After more than an hour, a “fire out” was
declared. I again noticed the first responders on the fire scene - the crew of
the yellow fire truck. As quietly as they had begun, they are now engrossed in a
calm demobilization activity, taking care that their equipment are put back in
order aboard their truck. On the truck’s rear were the markings: “LVC Motor
Parts, Central Quiapo Volunteer, Morita”. I approached 1 member who told me
that the guy is their OIC, Mr. Ryan Lua, a fire volunteer.
In this disaster, Ryan Lua and his crew are the
real heroes. They were the first responders at site. Their presence of mind and
cool, calm disposition saved the day, in terms of property and lives that could
have been lost.
Yet as I look at the photos I took, I can see
that it was just another day, another job for them. They do not bask in fame or
recognition. You probably will not recognize them if you meet them on the
streets because they do not have the charisma of a politician or the glitz of a
movie star. But they have nerves of steel and are good examples of what “stability
under pressure” means.
Mabuhay ka, Ryan Lua, at ang iyong mga crew! Indeed,
you are a cut above the rest.
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