THE FIRST GENERATION
Ryan Christen, the CEO of Fully Involved Fire, LLC is a 3rd generation Fire Fighter and Emergency Management professional who retired as a Battalion Chief and Special Operations Unit Commander. Preceded by his father, Dr. Henry (Hank) Christen, Jr. (Fully Involved – Human Performance Technology (HPT) Specialist) who retired as a Battalion Chief from the Atlanta Fire Department, former DMAT Commander, and Director of Emergency Management in Okaloosa County, Florida. As the 2nd generation, Dr. Christen was preceded by Henry “Pop” Christen, Sr. who retired as a District Chief in the Miami Fire Department, and then became a Director of Fire Science teaching young recruits to become the next generation.
The story below is that of Henry Christen, Sr (the 1st generation), as written by Dr. Henry Christen, Jr.
A story about Dad; Chief Henry Christen Sr.
(The First Generation of Professional Firefighters – Christen Family)
By Henry “Hank” Christen Jr.
Dad was born in 1921 and grew up on the Lower East Side of New York.Now they call it The East Village, but in the 20s and 30s it wasn’t a cool place. He joined the U.S. Navy in 1939 and moved to Miami in 1945 after his Navy discharge. He took the City of Miami cop and fire exams, the Miami Fire Department called him first, and the rest is history.
He was assigned to downtown Engine 1 but soon transferred to the very busy Rescue 1 and remained on the Rescue for five years. Miami rescue firefighters were Advanced First Aid certified in the 40s and 50s. In the early 60s, Miami firefighters (along with LA City and LA County) evolved to a progressive and world class emergency medical response system. Miami’s success was due to the efforts of Dr. Gene Nagel, Dr. Jim Hirschman, and Captain Manual Padron. They initiated an advanced life support program where firefighters were trained to read an EKG, administer cardiac medications, and defibrillate patients in ventricular fibrillation. Not everyone in the nursing and physician community embraced the idea of firefighters practicing advanced life support, but the program saved lives, and the skeptics saw the light.
Dad progressed through the ranks of Lieutenant, Captain, and District Chief. Promotions were very competitive because candidates had to pass an intense written exam, followed by an oral exam. I remember Dad studying intently throughout his career. Sometimes he didn’t make it on the first try. He especially had trouble with the hydraulics equations on the captain’s exam. He dug in and made Captain on the second try.
Dad worked a second job on his off days. His first off-duty job was selling vacuum cleaners door-to-door, and he hated it. As a result, he began teaching basic firefighting to Metropolitan Dade County (now called Miami-Dade Fire Rescue) recruits. In addition, he taught the Civil Defense Heavy Rescue program in the south Florida region. This program was the precursor to today’s national urban search and rescue (USAR) teams. An off shoot of the heavy rescue teaching was planning and conducting full scale disaster exercises. He learned from the funeral industry how to apply makeup to simulated victims to add realism to the disaster exercises. Today, this process is called moulage.
Dad’s mindset and values were like most fire officers of his era. Namely, they were molded by their experience in World War II, which carried over to their fire service management style. Dad had an exact way of doing things that was not open to debate. He often used the term “half-assed” to describe others that did not meet his high expectations. He had no gray areas. People measured up, or they were “half-assed.”
Dad was often transferred to fire stations to straighten things out. It was ironic that sometimes he was commended as a fixer, and other times criticized for being an unyielding disciplinarian. He was both.
He loved the uniform. He left home in full dress uniform, and he returned walking through the front door in his Miami FD stovepipe cap. I always greeted him by asking, “Did you have any fires Dad?” He always gave a short answer and changed the subject. When I got older I pressed him for more details because my fire service curiosity knew no bounds, but getting details was like pulling teeth.
Everyone in the neighborhood came to our house when they had a serious problem, because they knew that a firefighter would know what to do. One evening Mr. Hield came to the door pleading, “Henry come quick. It’s Eleanor.” She died in the bathtub; a miracle didn’t happen that day.
Growing up in the City of Miami Fire Department was cool. I marveled at fire trucks from an early age. Ladder1 was a tillered truck with a 100-foot aerial ladder. It looked gigantic to me. One year I watched the Orange Bowl parade from the second floor of the fire station. When I was about 8, I was moulaged at a major disaster exercise and placed under loose rubble. A searching firefighter yelled, “Hey, we’ve got a kid under here.” They back boarded me and moved me to the triage area. There was not a cooler kid experience than that.
Dad tried to talk me out of becoming a fire fighter from day one. I heeded his advice at first, and graduated from the University of Florida School of Journalism, followed by working in corporate marketing in downtown Miami for a year. I disliked the corporate world and finally worked up the nerve to tell my Dad that I wanted to get on the job. I climbed the long stairs at Miami fire station 7 to the District Chief’s office and let it all hang out. My Dad’s response was a surprise. He took a deep breath and said, “I can’t fault you for following in my footsteps.” Miami was under a hiring freeze, Atlanta hired me, and that’s a story for another day.
Dad moved to Jensen Beach, Florida, after his retirement and served as Fire Science Director at Indian River Junior College (now Indian River State College). He died in 2001, just three weeks before the World Trade Center attack.
A few more pics of the 1st Generation…
Miami Herald Fire
“Pop” providing water and helping other firefighters at a major fire in 1949. Note, the newspapers have been misspelling our family name for over 80 years now. It’s Christen.
Injured on Duty
Injured when Squad 1 was struck by another vehicle, Pop suffered multiple fractures and other injuries. After a few days in the hospital, he returned to service and continued his career.
Miami Engine 1
“Pop” served at Miami Station One and worked both the Engine and Rescue in his career. In fact, at some point, all three Christen men served on a “Rescue 1” at some point in their careers.