Bill Gustin Saved My Life (And Yours Too)

Last week, I was vacationing with my wife in Washington DC when I received a call early in the morning that Bill Gustin had taken his life.  The news left me feeling hollow.  The feeling passed, but ever since I've been left with a sense of foreboding and nervousness, like a passenger on a rudderless ship.  The Captain is gone, the sea is calm, but I'm not sure how we'll get back to shore.  

Our course and our direction in the American Fire Service has been thrown off.

If you’re a firefighter, whether you know it or not, you’re a passenger on this ship and trust me when I tell you that Bill Gustin was one of the Captains of our ship.   For all the prestige of the National Fire Academy, with all of its programs and certifications, they mean next to nothing for the regular firefighter and line officer who goes to work everyday looking to do right.  The NFA is for the pencil pushers and certificate collectors and does not guide the spirit of the American Fire Service.

No sir, that spirit, the expectation to serve courageously is led by a band of loosely connected instructors from all over the country who deliver their messages over and over again to the willing.  Those participants then take the lessons learned back to their firehouses and share them.  And the cycle of meaningful education continues.

We all learn through sweat, repetition and the wisdom of these instructors. We all learn.

It should be noted that the DNA of fire instruction today is influenced and has descended from the greats; Dunn, Norman, Pressler, McCormack, and Fredricks among many others. They took their cues from the generation before.  We owe a debt to each and every one of them, but chief among these legends is William ‘Bill’ Gustin. 

Bill Gustin never taught a class he didn’t have to cut short.  He never gave a lecture where he didn’t wrestle with what ‘must be removed’ for time.  This was always the struggle.  Why?  Because he had more slides, more information, more warnings than can fit into any class, no matter the length. 

“George,” he would ask me, genuinely perplexed.  “How do I decide what to remove? How can I take out a slide that might save someone one day?”  This was his perpetual struggle–the desire to share all the knowledge, and the compulsion to gather all the mistakes, from all the fires, then deliver lessons learned to every firefighter that was willing to listen and willing to train.  

Every class and every drill that Bill ever taught never ended because Bill was done.  They only ended because time ran out, daylight faded, or exhaustion took over.  Bill worried for all of you everyday.  He committed his life to not only our safety but to our success.

Bill Gustin was always compelled to learn, to teach and to write.  Bill was prolific.  Every field has their masters.  There are scientists that push towards discovery and engineers who push refinements.  There are athletes who take their sport to new heights and craftsmen who take an object and create something no one has ever seen before.  It is a blessing to share time and space with a true master.  Very few of us ever get the privilege.  A master elevates their craft and reminds the rest of us that we can and should be better.  They inspire us.  Bill Gustin was a master of his craft.  Mastery of firefighting is impossible to quantify though.  We can’t review his theorems.  We can’t appreciate his inventions and we can’t admire his art.  How after all, do you quantify the thousands of firefighters who made the ‘right’ decision on the fireground because of lessons learned in Bill’s classes? How do you quantify the injuries that never occurred because he taught you a better, safer way to operate?   How do you prove that the fire went out quicker because of what he taught you?  I can’t prove it, yet I know it’s true.

How do you thank someone who gave you the foundation for your wins and for your saves?  How do you say thank you for the confidence to perform on a playing field where death and injury are always lurking and waiting to strike? Bill, how can I thank you?

For almost 50 years ‘the good Captain’ guided not only MDFR, but steered the American Fire Service bravely forward.  I can see his influence in each and every class I take.  I see and hear a bit of him in every young instructor that takes the responsibility to teach and keep us safe, and I see his passion in the young men and women who are students of the craft.  

So yes, Bill Gustin saved me many times, and he has saved you too.  Keep learning.  Keep training and for God’s sake, don’t let him down.

If you'd like to share, we'd love to know how you felt about Captain 'G'.   -George