First Responders Quotes

“First responders are notorious for being reserved about their emotions and emotional wellbeing.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Firefighters are taught early on not to leave any person behind. It has been etched on countless plaques, statues, and national monuments honoring those who have fallen.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Being accountable is somewhat ingrained into the life of a first responder.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Recognizing the early onset of burnout is of the utmost importance.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Burnout occurs when an individual has experienced prolonged demands, chronic stress, fatigue, a lack of support, and a decrease satisfaction in what they are doing.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Self-care is essential to combating burnout.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Many first responders shy away from sharing their innermost feelings.”
― Asa Don Brown

“There is a common thread that weaves throughout the very fabric of every first responder.”
― Asa Don Brown

“We must work together to remove the stigma that has fulled our indifference to mental health and we must encourage our fellow first responder to seek professional care.”
― Asa Don Brown

“It is important to understand that the stigma around mental health creates barriers for those who most need mental health services.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Self-awareness is an essential ingredient in preventing or combating "burnout.”
― Asa Don Brown

“It has been a year of chaos, confusion, and complete madness.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Unfortunately, there has been no escaping the water-cooler conversation.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Given the pandemic and remote schooling, children are now being expected to perform at a higher pace and with greater productivity. The demands not only affect the children, but the demands are overflowing onto their parental caregivers.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Focus on areas of your life that bring you peace.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Remember that positive self-talk is an intrinsic part of a healthy mind.”
― Asa Don Brown

“Ground Zero by Stewart Stafford

At the rim of the abyss,
Among the malignant smoking rubble,
And the plane and body parts,
The traumatised rediscovered their purpose.

In a moonscape of fallen pride, identity, and ambition,
The anonymous saved something of the unsalvageable,
Searchers with sandwiches and coffee in the toxic dust,
Manna from Good Samaritans with unconditional gratitude.

As the lungs struggled to take in air,
The hearts of each participant enlarged,
And found shelter in non-partisan synergy,
Becoming a family of former strangers.

The lesson of the lost was to stay loving and open-hearted,
Not turn away and isolate from life and others,
Even when the scars became unbearable,
Their stolen affection remained a towering beacon from the ruins.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Answer the urgent call. Help when tragedy strikes. And do it for free.”
― Isabella Koldras, Solidarity that binds the world.

“The Bad Halloween: A Crazies Night Chronicle by Stewart Stafford

I'm Rich—ambulance medic on Crazies Night,
Demented chariot driver in the mediverse,
Skeleton crew for swarms of ailing impostors,
Our dashboard crucifix, buffeting every curse.

Jittery, side-burned Jeff riding shotgun,
I tease his grumbling about missing fun:
"A toast with your Pumpkin Spice Latte!
Breakfast on me when our shift is done."

Behind us, a female living portrait groaned—
Drunk or high, headfirst, she kissed the road.
Mona Lisa frame unmounted for treatment,
delirious spoilers dropped for The Da Vinci Code!

Death's Reaper stood daring us in our path;
graveyard shift, centre line, gleaming scythe.
Brakes jammed, sirens blared, the prank waned—
This gothic vigilante traffic cop waved us by!

We dropped Patient Moaner at the hospital,
Jeff smoked, and I ate canteen Colcannon,
Our "bat signal" crackled, flashed in the cab:
"Cosplay brawl at the Hotel Shannon."

We drove off for more Boo-Boo Bus Bedlam
to hit our Gotham's streets and tend the injured.
Catherine wheel jack-o-lantern through windscreen;
The Pumpkin Bomber’s cackle went unheard.

Ears temporarily-deafened, thumbs up given;
Faces, hands, arms burned—scarred medics.
Flying glass cuts on our cheeks and necks:
Carers now mummified patients: sideline critics.

The first cracks of dawn chase shadows away;
A Grand Grimoire yielding to Grey's Anatomy,
Our carriage—the repair yard's hollow gourd,
All-Saints sunrise feast to shed All Hallows' agony.

On the Lord of Death's night, we didn't die:
Weary defiance met coffee and pumpkin pie.

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford