SIZE matters

The dispute over the fire department's ladder truck hints at a deep rift between city officials and local firefighters. It's a battle that could jeopardize the city's ability to fight fires with state-of-the-art equipment, firemen argue. So far, city leaders aren't swayed.

by Kristen Lombardi

The Worcester Fire Department should have seen it coming. Even before the arrival of a shiny, state-of-the-art ladder truck, rumors among firefighters were swirling. The first rig the department's bought in years was not just big, it was too big. By the time its wheels rumbled toward Grove Street headquarters in April, firefighters wondered whether the truck, when parked, would scrape the roof of the station.

No sooner had the vehicle, otherwise known as Ladder 2, pulled into headquarters than an anonymous, scathing letter circulated within City Hall. "Our dearly beloved Fire Chief, Dennis Budd has done it again," the letter begins. In a wry, cheeky tone, it then proceeds to poke fun at Budd for unwittingly purchasing a truck of no practical use to the department.

Although nearly all the information is incorrect, the letter, which firefighters believe was penned by a disgruntled department employee, gained considerable attention. City councilors blasted Budd at a June 1 meeting because the truck arrived five inches taller than originally specified and because it surpassed state commercial-truck regulations on length and weight. Consequently, Budd must seek a waiver from the state Highway Department (he's now working to change regulations statewide). But buying the truck before a waiver was secured just irritated his critics further.

Even the T&G editorial board followed suit, calling the Ladder 2 purchase a "snafu" that "cannot be explained away."

To this day, councilors are dissatisfied by firefighters' answers, which one councilor says defy "common sense." Some believe the whole story surrounding its purchase has yet to unfold. For them, the Ladder 2 confusion reinforces the general, nagging perception that Budd is controlled by an aggressive, organized union, rendering the longtime chief incompetent, particularly in light of such high-profile debates over the pending independent fire study and the purchase of luxury vehicles. The fire union and Budd have also unsuccessfully waged a public battle against the city administration over an unfilled, unfunded, 17-large fire recruit class.

In the words of At-large Councilor Tim Murray, responding to why he was critical of Budd and Ladder 2 at the June council meeting, "I ask the fire administration basic questions but can't get a straight answer. This leads me to believe someone isn't doing his job."

What the Ladder 2 controversy has revealed is an ongoing dispute between city officials and Worcester firefighters, which could actually influence the staffing, facilities, and equipment that firefighters argue they desperately need to adequately protect local residents and businesses. Specifically, it reveals a larger issue at stake: like fire stations across the state, Worcester's 12 facilities -- many woefully in need of renovations, long ignored by city officials -- are so antiquated that modern equipment can't be housed in them. In fact, today more than 60 percent of the department's ladders can't fit into headquarters, and other stations couldn't house Ladder 2 at all. It's a situation that's sure to grow worse as the department begins replacing aging trucks.

IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN another routine day at the Worcester Fire Department's Grove Street headquarters, if not for the brassy, fully-loaded ladder truck. On this humid June morning, the 16 firefighters assigned to Ladder 2 prepare for a training session.

Don Courtney, the Worcester FireFighters Local 1009 vice-president and a Grove Street lieutenant, stands before the vehicle, his arms crossed, his expression keen. "Here it is," he offers, "the latest in fire equipment."

Ladder 2 represents an "aerial platform," as it's called, meaning that there's a bucket at the end of its 95-foot ladder. Platforms are considered safer, more effective apparatus because firefighters can move about freely and shoot water from high elevations. The city's Ladder 2 measures 49 feet long by 10 feet high. It features some 200 tools, an air tank, as well as advanced hydraulics, suspension, and alarm systems.

It's an impressive truck, made more so by the fact that the city hadn't purchased a new ladder for the Grove Street station in 21 years. When Ladder 2 arrived, Courtney recalls, "We were just happy to be getting a truck. . . . We were ecstatic."

The excitement has diminished somewhat since the letter, which is laden with factual errors, starting with the premise that Ladder 2 was not only too large for Grove Street headquarters, but also "TOO BIG, TOO LONG ANDTOO HIGH" for all of the city's stations. It then purports a host of inaccuracies: that mechanics partially disconnected the truck's suspension; that it cannot be driven more than 15 mph; and that it's already been in three accidents. Even simple details like Ladder 2's $650,000 price tag were falsely reported. (In fact, the suspension system is fine; the truck has been in two minor accidents; and it can be driven as fast as other department equipment.)

Indeed, the letter is so loaded with mistakes that firefighters tend to dismiss it as "overblown hyperbole." As Frank Raffa, the Local 1009 president, explains, "The letter's comic-strip form makes me think that it's meant to embarrass the chief and nothing else."

This is not to say that the letter -- or, more aptly, the truck's size -- hasn't raised legitimate questions. At Grove Street, Tom Spencer, the Ladder 2 lieutenant, says that initial safety concerns were quelled as soon as the vehicle's manufacturer demonstrated its features to the crew. The steel ladder, for instance, is bigger, wider, and sturdy enough to hold several men without bending. "Safety-wise," Spencer concludes, "this is a nice truck."

If the crew is concerned, it's about liability. After all, Ladder 2's sheer size, coupled by its design, makes it difficult to drive around corners. "Guys are afraid they might sideswipe a sign, tree, or parked car and be held responsible," Courtney admits. The city's law department has told union officials that firefighters are indemnified, meaning they are protected from lawsuits. Now, he says, fire officials are trying to assure men that neither safety nor liability appear to be real issues.

Likewise, the letter has inspired doubts about the method by which Ladder 2 was purchased -- doubts that one firefighter describes as "a lot to do about nothing." District Chief Walter Giard, who oversees training, serves on the four-member committee that determined specifications. The group wanted to buy a platform for Grove Street headquarters because, he says, "it was needed on the city's north end." (The department's two other platforms serve the south side.) Members asked the manufacturer, Pennsylvania-based KME, to build the vehicle no higher than 10 feet so it could fit inside headquarters. But when they requested the length be 40 feet, the maximum allowed by state law, Giard explains, "The manufacturer told us the truck would have to be 12-feet high."

Equipment size issues aren't unusual. Communities like Auburn, Holden, and Andover have similar apparatus. During the course of its research, Giard's committee discovered about 50 fire trucks in Massachusetts now exceed state commercial-truck regulations.

Giard and colleagues even had manufacturers haul equipment to Worcester, then park it in the station, before buying the new Ladder 2. For Giard, this proves how the committee didn't grossly miscalculate size, although Ladder 2 surpasses state limits on length and weight. "I knew the state regulations," he contends, "but we needed a truck tailored to this station."

Yet there was at least one surprise -- Ladder 2 came taller than specified. In a May 26 report, Budd writes that the sales representative, Assonet-based Fire Resources, had the truck's front-end aligned and, in the process, adjusted the air-suspension unit, incorrectly inflating what's been described as a "giant bladder." After fixing it, Fire Resources paid $1319 to remove concrete veneer from a support beam so there would be several additional inches between Ladder 2 and the ceiling.

Since then, Budd has spoken with Matt Amorello, the Highway Department commissioner, to receive a waiver. He's also brought the matter to the Massachusetts Fire Chiefs Association and the state Fire Marshall's office, which, insiders confirm, plan to bring together highway officials and fire chiefs to draft a "rational response" to increasing apparatus sizes. "I've been told there won't be a problem," Budd adds, because Ladder 2 has been deemed safe and can travel those roads served by headquarters.

Despite the recent, potentially damaging attention, Budd has yet to emerge as a strong department defender -- publicly, anyway. Even a June 2 T&G editorial characterizing the Ladder 2 purchase as "yet another embarrassment for the Worcester Fire Department" failed to stir a response. But Budd, who is known for his jolly, unassuming disposition, isn't shying away from scrutiny; instead, he says, "I don't want to give [critics] credibility by defending something I don't believe needs to be defended."

For Budd and his minions, it's no wonder that the latest fire equipment looks large for the 43-year-old Grove Street building, considering how apparatus have improved. "Fire trucks are getting bigger and bigger," says Kevin Mita, a self-described "apparatus enthusiast" who works at the Burncoat Street station. Industry standards, set by the Quincy-based National Fire Protection Association (NFPA), mandate that today's trucks must carry more gear like pumps, tanks, and hoses, which, in turn, increase the trucks' sizes.

What the Ladder 2 mess shows is how the city's old stations cannot accommodate modern trucks. "The chief bought the best equipment he could," Raffa exclaims. "But when the city does nothing to upgrade its stations, the consequences are these little problems."

In fact, this particular problem isn't even new. Right now, five of the existing eight ladders are too big for headquarters. Not only that, but the old Ladder 2 (which will eventually move to the Webster Square station) is close enough to the ceiling that the "tiller man," who steers the back, must duck to avoid direct objects: first, the steel support beam; second, a mass of water pipes; and third, the garage-door opener. You need not talk to a firefighter for long before tiller horror stories are relayed -- stories of men smacking their heads and suffering all manner of bumps, cuts, and bruises.

THOUGH THE LADDER 2 purchase appears a comedy of errors, it is, in fact, rather common. Fire officials outside of Worcester acknowledge that, no matter how meticulous the department, determining the proportions of new apparatus is often a problem.

Normally, departments specify the types of options needed, then manufacturers determine truck configurations using computer programs. "If there's a problem," says one member of the Brookfield Fire Department, "you have to sacrifice something." Departments might settle for, say, smaller generators or tanks. But sometimes, he adds, it's just better to exceed local laws than give up features, especially since equipment must meet federal guidelines.

Communities across the state have their own awkward tales to tell when it comes to buying new equipment. Take the time Shrewsbury Fire Department bought its latest ladder truck, the biggest, longest one the town had ever purchased. The truck was so big, so long that it couldn't fit in the station. The department solved the dilemma by cutting a hole in the station's back wall.

And then, there's the time Oxford fire officials rolled out the red carpet for its brand-new, sizable truck. Ceremonial fanfare faded as soon as firefighters were unable to park the vehicle in the station. The chief has pushed for upgraded facilities ever since, claiming that, if the town waits, firefighters will continue to look "like a bunch of dopes," fellow firefighters report he's said.

In Worcester, there's little doubt that many of the 12 stations, constructed from 1893 to 1993, are obsolete. Since 1968, report after report has documented substandard to dangerous building conditions. The most recent one, a "1995 Fire Station Audit," assesses each facility, then outlines rehabilitation goals over a five-year period. It presents a fairly bleak evaluation, calling for, in general, an entirely new maintenance division, training facility, and training tower. Older stations like Brown Square, Providence Street, and Tatnuck Square, while considered adequate, need substantial upgrades, including replacing corroded stairs and overhead doors, as well as patching roof leaks.

As for Grove Street headquarters, the '95 audit practically predicts the Ladder 2 fiasco, stating that, "A major disadvantage is its height . . . a decision must be made to possibly vacate this station and construct a new one to accommodate the newer type trucks."

Of course, the most notorious is the Webster Square station. Countless newspaper articles have depicted the deplorable, indeed laughable, conditions there in recent years. Since the 1893 facility was intended for horse-drawn fire wagons, equipment barely fits. But this is probably a minor inconvenience. For firefighters have surrendered the attic to pigeons. They've had to reinforce the floor by putting telephone poles in the cellar. They've even had to move their upstairs cots off to one side to keep plaster from falling in their faces and from getting wet when it rains.

The city administration plans to spend $3.5 million on the station's expansion and renovation, which could start as early as September if designs and environmental tests are signed off.

Once the Webster Square project begins, Budd will be able to cross one station off his infrastructure list. Then he might rank facilities like this: Brown Square, Providence Street, Southbridge Street, Pleasant Street, and the four Grove Street buildings. Budd, who says he ordered the '95 audit so city officials could consider the extent of improvements needed, has pushed City Manager Tom Hoover and councilors to implement it. But aside from installing diesel-emission systems in stations, he admits, "Not much has been done." As far as making improvements to house apparatus -- by building larger doors and higher ceilings -- Budd adds, "No, not done."

That city officials have virtually ignored his recommendations, shooting them down year after year, is somewhat perplexing for Budd, although he hastens to note that he doesn't believe his department is being singled out. "The administration has said that it's budget-driven," he offers, then goes on to wax philosophic about how his department is another "spike in the wheel of city government." His voice hints at a certain resignation; his requests, after all, cost money.

Besides, he concludes, "The administration will have to deal with the city's fire stations eventually."

MONEY IS ALWAYS AN EXCUSE, however legitimate, to delay municipal demands. Which is why some City Hall observers cannot help but notice how Budd's futile attempts to address aging infrastructure happen to coincide with the fire department's recent troubles. One official, who sympathizes with firefighters, sighs and says, "Chief Budd has been pretty beleaguered late in his career."

In the past few years, a series of contentious, ongoing debates have thrust the department into the spotlight. Just this year the T&G editorial board lambasted the purchase of three Ford Expedition sports-utility vehicles for deputy chiefs, calling it a "boondoggle." Not long after, councilors fumed over a new "luxury" Crown Victoria, even though they had approved of the $3 million citywide, capital-equipment budget in which the vehicle was included.

But the most salient public battle centers on a firefighter recruit class. Budd and union firefighters have long argued that staffing levels are spreading the 450-member force perilously thin. Yet for two years now, Hoover has postponed the class for budgetary reasons, in spite of the expectation that the current 28 vacancies will increase to 39 by December because of retirements and work-related injuries. And while the department loses men, firefighters have watched the city administration take advantage of $4 million in federal grants to hire 55 more police officers in the past four years.

Thus it's not startling that firefighters feel a bit under siege. When discussing Ladder 2, for instance, Raffa ticks off the most recent controversies and then claims, "There is a big movement on the council to get the firefighters."

For Raffa and his colleagues, the department's woes -- the negative media coverage, the council's "head-hunt" attacks, Hoover's refusal to grant Budd's requests -- stem from one, historic event: the $4.9 million arbitration ruling. Last year, Local 1009 won what's been called a "clear-cut, big-time victory" in a case against the city, based on a 1994 contract dispute over how the administration determines salaries for new hires.

A more recent contract dispute prompted firefighters, along with police, to threaten to picket the 1998 Republican State Convention at the Worcester Centrum Centre, a protest that would have undoubtedly embarrassed the city administration.

So as Raffa puts it, "People will stand up and say they're not being vindictive, but we believe differently. This is payback."

Hoover did not return five phone calls made by the Worcester Phoenix and did not respond to a written list of questions concerning spending priorities. But he's publicly stated that his delay of the recruit class, for one, is merely a budgetary matter. Hoover used the money saved last year to help pay for the arbitration ruling. This year, he presented it as part of a "sensible, broad-based" strategy to curb municipal spending and to maintain the property-tax rate for fiscal 2000 -- a strategy first devised by councilors. Aside from not funding the 28 firefighters, Hoover left 17 police positions unfunded and eliminated 16 jobs citywide.

Still, there's no question the fire department and city officials are suffering a communication breakdown of sorts, suggesting to some City Hall observers that the friction runs deeper. They maintain that today's antagonism took shape as many as four years ago -- long before the arbitration ruling. "There is a general feeling on the part of the administration and certain councilors that there are too many firefighters," one official explains.

The notion is rooted in the remarkable reduction in fires nationwide. The NFPA reports that fire deaths totaled 4050 in 1997, down from 6215 in 1988. In the same year, firefighters responded to 1.8 million fires, a dramatic drop from 3.3 million fires in 1977. In Worcester, structure fires have also decreased, from 753 in 1992 to 496 in 1997.

Such declines, resulting from safety improvements like smoke detectors and sprinklers, have prompted communities to cut fire budgets, reduce staffing levels, and close stations. In Worcester, the decreasing rate of fires helped advance the campaign for an independent fire study.

Privately, though, City Hall insiders agree that staffing disputes could probably be resolved, if not for the general perception that the city's fire department lacks a visible, firm leader. The union's vocal, persistent reputation may actually hurt chief Budd's credibility, they say, especially among councilors. Even if Budd advocates for legitimate departmental needs, his effectiveness has dwindled.

As one insider says, "Nobody can delineate between the union and the administration, which begs the question: who is running the show?"

Perhaps this explains why several councilors suspect the department's latest contention. When told that firefighters believe the older stations cannot house contemporary apparatus, for example, At-large Councilor Konnie Lukes replies, "Instead of demanding more firefighters, the department is now switching to infrastructure? Interesting. . . . Either way, it's this constant need to spend money."

Yet councilors like Joe Petty, who chairs the public-safety committee, don't doubt the department's infrastructure needs. After visiting the 12 fire stations himself last year, he says, "It's obvious we need a plan." The only reason his committee has not pushed the issue is because of the much anticipated independent study, he adds.

Beginning next month, the study is expected to examine not only facilities, but apparatus, services, and personnel. Yet if critics are hoping it leads to cutbacks, they may be disappointed. Just last week, Hoover hired TriData Corporation of Arlington, Virginia, which has researched fire departments in East Lansing, Michigan, Colorado Springs, Colorado, and Washington, DC. In those cities, TriData recommended adding ladder crews, emergency services, and stations.

All of which might give Budd some hope. For even though Budd claims to have "no idea" why critics define his department as "adrift," he looks forward to the independent study. "It will have more credibility among the people who set budget priorities," he concludes. And if the study shows anything, it will likely show how the Ladder 2 drama will recur until the city's older stations are improved. Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com.