Source: The Sun Herald | November 22, 2009
Anita Lee
Nov. 22, 2009 (McClatchy-Tribune Regional News delivered by Newstex) -- GULFPORT -- Pat Sullivan's eyes lit up as he described riding on back of a fire truck to an emergency call.
He would see the familiar column of smoke and know he was about to have the chance to save someone's property and, maybe, a life.
"The bottom line is, this has been the best job you could ever imagine," Sullivan said Friday, looking back from the chief's office on a 34-year career as a Gulfport firefighter.
Even though he has served as Gulfport Fire Department chief since 2001, he still hops on a truck every chance he gets. It makes the young firefighters a little nervous to have the chief along, but the veterans who know Sullivan just shake their heads and laugh.
He has always thrived on the adrenaline of emergency work. Sullivan discovered his calling after he picked up a Brownie Instamatic camera as a teenager looking for something to do.
A natural talent for photography, combined with his attraction to emergency scenes, drew him into the brotherhood of firefighters. He loved the camaraderie, the chance firefighting gave him to make a tangible difference and, yes, the danger. He joined the Gulfport Fire Department in 1975,
Sullivan always took advantage of opportunities to learn new skills, and said he worked under great chiefs who gave him those opportunities. Sullivan, Gary Hargrove, now Harrison County's coroner, and Billy Bragg, now deputy fire chief, were among the first in the state to complete paramedic training.
Back then, Hargrove said, no central school was available. Instead, they rotated from hospital to hospital to learn medical skills.
Sullivan also is a trained dive/rescue specialist and hazardous materials, or HAZMAT, technician. At one time, he headed the department fire prevention and arson bureau. Those who work with Sullivan say he remains calm and decisive in emergencies.
He has been to so many emergency scenes that he won't even try to describe the ones that stand out. He mentions the time he was hospitalized with burned feet after a chemical explosion at a plant off Seaway Road. He has been on countless search and rescue missions, many of them drownings.
He remembers the time he was involved in searching for a small boy, the son of a New Orleans family spending a day at the beach. Rescue workers were searching the Mississippi Sound for his body. The Coast Guard had been called in. The search party found the little boy, toddling down the beach a mile away.
Too often, Sullivan saw tragic outcomes. "I'm of the opinion that bad things are going to happen to good people," Sullivan said. "I'm never going to stop that from happening."
Sullivan was in one of the search parties that combed the De Soto National Forest all night, hoping to find U.S. Rep. Larkin Smith and his pilot, Chuck Vierling, alive after their plane went down in August 1989. When a dense fog cleared the next morning, broken treetops spotted from a helicopter led responders to the crash site, where both men were found dead. Smith, former Gulfport police chief and Harrison County sheriff, had been a friend.
All calamities paled in comparison to Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
"Katrina was the worst of the worst," Sullivan said. "I think we were as prepared as we could be for the type of storm that we were used to, but, as everyone knows, this was a far bigger, greater storm than we were used to."
At one point during the hurricane, Sullivan was trying to reach a house that reportedly had collapsed with more than a dozen people inside. "I tried to go out," he said, "The wind was just too great." The people in the house must have survived, he said, because no bodies were found in that location. Sullivan, along with his firefighters and other city employees, worked days without sleep.
"I had guys that didn't have uniforms because they were lost in the storm, " he said, "but they were here."
Unlike many administrators, Sullivan talks about his mistakes as he reflects on Katrina, things he would and has done differently, like line up assistance from the San Bernardino County Fire Department, skilled in mobilizing massive crews and equipment because of California wild fires.
Sullivan seems incapable of describing his own exploits. Instead, he praises his fellow firefighters and emergency responders, the police officers and emergency medical personnel who also belong to the special fraternity of people who risk their lives daily for little pay but big rewards.
Sullivan has a longtime girlfriend, Jonell Meadows. "When I get tired," he said, "I go home. When she gets tired of me, I go home. I never have to sleep on the couch." He has two grown sons, Brian and Scott, from an earlier marriage, and Meadows' daughters, Victoria and Meredith, both students at Ole Miss.
Sullivan, whose retirement date has not been set, is uncertain what he will do next. He also serves as task force leader for Homeland Security's Regional Response Task Force comprising 29 South Mississippi counties.
He will continue with Mississippi Coast Coliseum safety, security and emergency operations. And whatever he does, his camera equipment will be nearby.
"We may not make a lot of money," Sullivan said, "but we sure make a difference out there. That has driven me my whole career -- the next call."
That was certainly the case Friday. The police and fire scanner crackled with activity in Sullivan's office. He perked up when he heard firefighters were on a call at the federal courthouse down the street. It was a drill, but Sullivan was out the door nonetheless and, within minutes, shooting photographs of a shiny ladder truck pulled up beside the building.
"Pat loves to be in the middle of the action," said Deputy Chief Bragg. "He would never ask anybody to do anything that he hasn't done or wouldn't do."
Newstex ID: KRTB-0021-39922816
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