A FIREFIGHTER'S TALE: THE LIFE AND WORK OF A CITY COLLEGE FIRE SCIENCE INSTRUCTOR
BY JOHN SERVATIUS
STAFF WRITER
Connors holds up a fire hose nozzle for his students. He instructs three fire science technology courses at City College: Incident Command System 200, Basic Fire Academy and Building Construction and Fire Protection.
NINA ROBINSON / GUARDSMAN
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Jim Conners, a City College fire science instructor, places assorted hoses, nozzles and other equipment on the counter in front of him for his PowerPoint presentation.
The screen behind him reads:
Wildland Fire Control
Third Edition
Chapters 4 - 7
Use of Fire Fighting Equipment
Stocky, with thinning gray hair and a mustache, he wears a crisp yellow short-sleeve shirt and brown slacks. He strides back and forth across the front of the room like a coach exhorting his players during a crucial moment in the game.
Conners warms to his subject, and with increasing enthusiasm holds forth at a rapid, staccato-like pace, sometimes writing on the whiteboard. Students struggle to keep up, scribbling in their notebooks furiously. Always moving and energetic, Conners is an animated booster for the fire service.
"I'm not a lectern kind of guy," he said.
Conners, 59, is a captain and one of two safety officers with the San Francisco Fire Department. He will retire in January 2007 with 32 years service, and has been at City College for nine years.
An urban firefighter, Conners is also a wildland fire specialist because California has an "all risk" Master Mutual Aid Agreement.
"We do a lot of wildland fire fighting because of where the state is from a topography standpoint," he said.
Conners' most recent trek was to the Pigeon fire, six miles west of Weaverville in Junction City, in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest along Highway 299. He was there from Sept.15 through Sept. 22 as an incident safety officer.
"I was on my way to Los Padres when I was diverted to Northern California," Conners said. Driving a department Ford F-250 pickup truck with a camper shell and radio, "I had all my gear, MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) so I can be self- sufficient."
Steep, rugged terrain and past fires in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest make it dangerous for firefighters, according to Michael Odle, a public affairs officer with the U.S. Forest Service in Redding. A prominent feature of the area is the Trinity Alps Wilderness, which rises from 2,000 feet to 9,000 feet above sea level. Shasta-Trinity is the largest national forest in California, covering 2.1 million acres.
"It's pack it in; pack it out," Odle said.
"Past fires have snags. Some trees burn hotter. We're in an area with a mixed variety of conifers. This area has multiple size patches of manzanita that are three to six feet. It's not called mean country for nothing: it's very difficult to fight fires in."
After arriving to the scene, Conners' responsibility is to see that all procedures are accomplished safely.
"In the fire service, everybody deserves a round trip," he said.
A typical day at a wildland fire is a 12-hour shift that begins with “wake up” at 5 a.m. and a 7 a.m. briefing in the command center.
Proceeding to his assigned work area, Conners then briefs his crew and checks their gear to ensure that they have everything they need. From there it's inspection of the use permits and a safety review with the forest service contractor who owns the chipping machine into which hand crews will feed the brush and trees they will cut to contain the blaze.
After that, Conners walks and drives the 18-mile area of the Helena Group of this fire, constantly monitoring road and tree conditions, looking out for "widowmakers" -— dead trees -— and any other potential hazards to firefighters.
At 7 p.m. he returns to the command center, briefs the night safety officer, completes paperwork, fuels his vehicle and has dinner. It is now 10 p.m.
"We like to get adrenalin rushes — they must be controlled," Connors tells his students.
He emphasizes situational awareness and the consequences of inattention.
"Excitement of the moment will fog awareness of dangers,” Conners said.
“Someone will believe that rules don't apply to them; someone will be facing difficulties at home, taking away from focus; someone' s duty day will extend beyond safe limits; target fixation will cause loss of situational awareness. A lot of things can happen real fast."
Odle said that the Pigeon fire involved 100,164 acres and was 87 percent contained by Oct. 30. There were 1,500 firefighters at its peak, and containment is expected by Nov. 15.
"It was a low injury incident, repetitive motion, very minor injuries such as poison oak, environmental exposure, sunburn. It was a human-caused fire," Odle said.
He does not know if arson is suspected.
Sitting in his office at the fire department’s 19th and Folsom division of training, Conners has changed into his traditional uniform: dark blue trousers and matching t-shirt with SFFD emblazoned in white across the back.
He began as a firefighter with the SFFD in 1975 after working in sales for Bethlehem Steel, and a stint in the U.S. Navy as a Morse code operator stationed in the desolate outreaches of Australia.
"All my friends were taking the fire exam," Conners said.
At the time he would have had to transfer back east with Bethlehem. Conners is a San Francisco native and all of his family and friends are here.
"Look at the steel business today," he said.
Although of Irish descent, Conners does not come from a long line of firefighters. He has cousins who are police officers and firefighters, but no immediate family members. A cousin was chief of the Daly City Fire Department and has retired.
His first assignment was with Engine 21 on Grove Street, between Broderick and Baker streets. Conners was stationed there for 14 years.
"For a fire fighter in the firehouse, it's the best job in the world," he said.
Conners moved up through the ranks, first as a lieutenant for 10 years, and then in 1999 as a captain in the field at Station 5 in the Western Addition. In late 2004, he became the departmental training captain.
But everything changed on Sept. 11.
"I was at a wildland fire at Arnold. We were working a 24-hour shift, and I was the boss of an engine company," Conners said.
"The strike team leader, he drove up and said, 'Get everybody down here, right now!’ It was 6:30 a.m.”
In that surreal environment, Conners remembers the number of firefighters and police officers who died at the World Trade Center.
"Three-four-three is part of the soul of a firefighter," he said. "My daughter gave birth to twin boys during the week of Sept. 11. She almost died. Everybody's fine now."
Conners' unit was ineligible for deployment to New York because it was committed to another incident — but he and some of his colleagues from San Francisco's Station 10 went on their own to show support for New York City’s Station 10 and its personnel who were all lost at Ground Zero. They were subsequently reassigned to another station.
"That one event changed the structure of the fire service forever. It's changed the way we train and operate," Connors said.
Recently, Conners and three other San Francisco firefighters traveled to Southern California to attend the services of five U.S. Forest Service firefighters on Nov. 6 who died in the line of duty at the Esperanza Fire. The suspected arsonist is in custody.
In an e-mail, Conners said, "It was obviously an emotional trip, but one we owed to the crew members of Engine 57. It was attended by thousands of fire service members, including members of the New York City Fire Department."
e-mail:jservatius@theguardsman.com
TRANSGENDER RIGHTS ADVOCATE ADDRESSES U.N.: STUDENT TRAVELS TO SWITZERLAND TO REPRESENT IN HUMAN RIGHTS STRUGGLE
BY ELIZABETH SKOW
STAFF WRITER

PHOTO COURTESY OF AIDAN DUNN
Dunn in Geneva, Switzerland
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When City College student Aidan Dunn skimmed his e-mail in September, he dismissed the unimportant-looking message from the International Lesbian and Gay Association. The heading read: "Dear friends." He was busy with school, so it went untouched.
He receives a lot of email; understandably so, considering his level of activism in the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community.
At the age of 22, his resume reads like that of someone twice his age.
Dunn is a member of ILGA; he is on the InterPride board of directors and is the general manager of a musical youth group he helped start called Gay, Lesbian and Allied Musicians (GLAM); he is the former vice president of the policies and procedures committee of San Francisco LGBT Pride Celebration; he is the former executive director of the Youth Gender Project. That is the short list.
A week after September’s e-mail came a phone call from the ILGA informing him that he was selected to represent the organization on a panel about transgender rights at the second session of the new United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva. He was the only panel member from the United States, and the council would meet in two weeks.
"I was just hoping that I had something to say that would be worth the organization spending so much money to bring me from California. And the tricky thing was, I only had seven minutes,” Dunn said.
Dunn devoted those seven minutes to defining the basics of sex and gender so the lawyer on the panel could delve into complex human rights issues within that framework. He talked about hate crimes, the situation for LGBT people in U.S. schools and discussed the new legal defense strategy known as "transgender panic," where attackers claim they are rendered insane by panic at the sight of unexpected genitalia.
"I've always been involved with human rights issues, so I guess that's my big thing. I've traveled a lot, so I've seen how life is in a lot of different places, and how people are treated,” Dunn said.
Since it was only the second session of this U.N. Council, there were many kinks to work out of the system, according to Dunn.
He said it can be difficult to make headway on human rights issues when there is such a disparity of cultural views on homosexuality — in some countries, just being gay is considered a crime punishable by death.
"The U.N. is one of the most complicated governing bodies anywhere. They just have so many commissions on committees with sub-committees and task forces,” Dunn said.
“Sometimes it works and sometimes it really doesn't. It was really amazing to watch the Human Rights Council and its process."
Dunn is involved in the international LGBT community to educate people in the United States as well. He said that people in the United States don't look outside their own borders; he seems determined to change this.
Growing up in Simsbury, Connecticut, was not easy for Dunn. He attended public high school there for only a short time.
"I came out when I was 14, and the place was really scary," Dunn said.
"Queers were having to drop out of school because it wasn't safe. They were literally getting death threats sent to them."
His teachers ranged from unsupportive to actively hostile. According to Dunn, they ignored physical violence against him, yelled at him for protesting and sometimes actively encouraged violence toward queer students.”
Dunn protested vehemently.
"It needed to happen in order to make it a livable place for queer students. Not many other people were doing it, and it needed to be done, and I couldn't just stand there and let them push and shove me and burn me with cigarettes,” Dunn said.
Dunn was able to attend private school for his last three years, where he had an academic advisor who pleaded with him not to drop out and flee to San Francisco.
Dunn stayed until he graduated, then came to San Francisco.
He plans to attend City College until he meets his general education requirements, and then transfer to the University of California at Berkeley or Stanford University.
He wants to stay in San Francisco, unless "the U.S. gets too scary," he said, and plans to continue his work in the LGBT community.
Dunn’s favorite project right now is GLAM, which features GLBT and allied youth who want to stand up with their gay friends.
Many of these youth are homeless or at risk, and the rehearsals are the only safe place they have to go. They are fed a meal each time they rehearse or perform.
“It’s giving these youth a place where they can be gay, talk about it, and sing. The music they do really changes the world.”
e-mail:eskow@theguardsman.com
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