Osterville Fire Station

The Osterville Fire Station
"Personal Reflections"

When I grew up in the 1960's and '70's, there was nothing more exciting to me than going to the fire station. The opportunity to visit "Uncle Gus" and the other guys at the station was a real treat.

The Osterville Fire Station was right on Main Street, about a mile from my home by bike.

It was full of shiny red trucks of various shapes and sizes. Sometimes the trucks were parked out front on the ramp where everyone could see them. The opportunity to stand on the back step of the trucks, pretending to be going to a fire, or to climb into the bars of the brush breaker was better than any playground.

The station doors were almost always open with a fresh breeze blowing through. The openness made the station a very inviting place to visit.

The ability to hang out at the station and listen to the guys talking about calls, sports, or their military service was a special opportunity I could not wait to do when the chance came.

There were about 30 guys on the Osterville roster. Most were call guys that worked other jobs and came to calls when the whistle blew. It was not unusual however for some guys to be hanging around the station.

There was always one guy on duty dispatching at the little wooden console with the swinging wooden gate in the front lobby with the window looking into the engine room. The radio microphone looked like a black telephone with a push to talk button that hung on a phone hanger.

The TV in the day room would usually have a baseball or hockey game on.

A good card game was as fun to watch as it was to play. A cribbage board and poker chips were always near by the table.

Even when nothing was going on, the fire station was a cool place to be.

In the corner, there was an old red, lift top style soda machine. You could get a Coca Cola, 7 Up, Orange Crush, Grape, or Dr. Pepper as long as you put 25 cents in the bowl next to it. The ice cold soda bottle was so refreshing on those hot summer days.

The fire station was full of sounds and smells.

There was almost always a constant cloud of cigar and cigarette smoke in the day room.

Sometimes there was another smoke smell in the engine room, when hose and turnout coats were laid out to dry on the hose rack after a fire. The smell of smoke was in the air in the spring brush season.

Sometimes the hose was laid out on the parking lot, washed and dried in the sun, before being rolled and placed back into the storage rack. The hose had its own special smell.

When the trucks were parked out on the ramp, the floors would be swept and any oil spots on the floor were wiped up with rags.

There was always some project going on the work bench.

Radio speakers blared throughout the station, listening to the activities of all the other departments and fire towers. Everyone used call signs and radio numbers, so it took a keen ear to listen to and learn which radio traffic was important to listen to and which was not.

Sometimes radio "skip" from other parts of the country could be heard, with unfamiliar voices and accents that were very different than our own.

When the phone rang, you could tell whether it was a business line or an emergency line because the "hot" phones were connected to extra loud bells.

The opportunity to be at the station when the air horn sounded was a special event. It was so loud that you could feel the vibrations at your core. It would startle you even if you were expecting it. It was so loud it could be heard for miles, especially on those cold quiet nights.

When a call came in, the dispatcher would announce it over the radio and then reach into the glass front, black box that hung on the wall and pull the spring loaded "hook" that would cause a small notched brass cog to begin turning. As the cog rotated, the notches caused a mechanism to move that resulted in a round of three very loud blasts from the air horn. The cog rotated twice and then automatically stopped after blowing 6 blasts of the horn, two rounds of three blasts. In addition, the dispatcher would push a button that caused a relay to make the siren on First Avenue, by the ball field to blow three rounds.

The sounding of the air horn and siren brought about a response of personnel from home or work to the fire station. In most cases, the whistle was the only notice of an emergency in the days before pagers and scanners. The race to the station brought a dozen or so cars to the station parking lot, with guys literally getting dressed as they ran across the parking lot and jumped onto the back step of the trucks as they pulled out of the station. It was very exciting to watch and I could not wait to be a part of it when I was old enough to join in.

In 1975, at age 16, I was allowed to join the department.

My "Hometown Firehouse" was built in Osterville in 1926 when the Centerville-Osterville Fire District was first established. The small brick fire stations in the two villages were very similar, but different enough to have their own personalities and characteristics. Centerville's was on Main Street in the center of old Centerville near where 4 Seas Ice Cream shop is.

The Osterville station was added onto a number of times over the years as more and larger apparatus came along. The biggest change to the Osterville Station was the addition of a large engine room around 1962.

Over time, the Osterville station became and served as the department headquarters.

The District added a third station in the village of Marstons Mills in 1975.

I got hired as a dispatcher in 1980 and got to blow the fire whistle myself plenty of times. The following year, my fulltime firefighter/paramedic career began, working out of my hometown station for years - a dream come true in many ways.

A new fire headquarters was built on Route 28 in Centerville in 1991. At that time, the Centerville station became Station 1 and Osterville was renamed Station 2.

The old horn tower came down in 1993. It has been replaced in many ways by technology and changes in staffing. A leaky roof ultimately led to it being torn down, forever changing the look, feel, and history of the station.

In 1999, the department officially ended the days of a call department and began staffing all three stations on a 24 hour basis. My days at the Osterville station changed as I was then assigned to the Marstons Mills Station 3 for years. A new Marstons Mills station was opened in August 2003, replacing the 1975 steel clad station.

The Osterville station was deemed in need of replacement and on July 11, 2008 it was officially closed. Apparatus and personnel were moved up the street to the water department's storage shed and a house trailer used for personnel.

In no time, the old station was stripped of its valuables and dismantled by heavy equipment. The old station was gone. Flattened. Hauled away in trucks. Only memories and photographs left to remember the old hometown station as it was for about 82 years.

In its place, a beautiful new 12,000 square foot modern fire station has been built. It opened on January 7, 2010. The new station has all the features required in a modern fire station and will surely serve the department and district well for at least another 80 years or more.

This new station is my new "Hometown Firehouse." Over time, it will develop its own characteristics and memories, just as other stations do.

It was a great privilege to have grown up around the old Osterville station in the midst of its greatest years. Those who were part of it know what I am talking about. Those who don't, well hopefully now you will. This photo feature is here to help us remember all those who worked there, the trucks, the fun, and the changes.

I hope you enjoy my final salute to my old "Hometown Firehouse."

Enjoy!

Britt

Engine 1 - 1926 Maxim

Charlie Lovell with Engine 1 - 1926 Maxim.
Note the swing out garage doors.