AIn
each of the firehouses, one man would preside over the kitchen
and prepare the food for the day. The fireman may have been
self-appointed or volunteered against his will. But either way,
he did whatever it took to please his fellow firemen. The cooks
took pride in their cooking and they were cooking for one of
the most critical audiences in the city. If a cook slipped up,
his food might be called “dog food” or “kamikaze
gumbo” by the firemen; all this criticism may have come
from trying to cook after hours of kitchen work, house work,
daily drills and possible studying for a promotional exam. None
of these duties could replace cooking, even though the only
tangible reward from cooking was being exempt from washing the
dishes.
A fireman was constantly busy
with chores, cooking, cleaning and, of course, fighting fires,
so leisure time was slim. But when they had breaks in between
everything they had to do, they had time to themselves. Most
of the down time that they had was spent playing cards, getting
in shape, playing sports, chatting with each other or writing
letters to their family. Although the life of a fireman was
hard and group oriented, their leisure time, although rare,
was anywhere from energetic ball playing to blissful napping.
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