Fighting fires is a family affair

By Denise Dombrowski

Photos by Larry Ghiorsi

It's only a seven-mile stretch on the New York State Thruway between Buffalo and Albany, but it's a runway to death for drivers fighting sleep. Nicknamed the "Bermuda Triangle," this accident zone near Manchester, NY, prompts one-third of the calls for the Manchester Fire Department. Volunteer firefighters Len and Gail Viccaro know the "triangle" firsthand.

"I experienced the first fatality of my career there," recalls Len, 53, as he shakes his head sadly. A 19-year-old woman with a car full of Christmas presents was heading to her folks' home when she was hit broadside by a drunk driver. "We couldn't get her out of the car in time. It stays right with me. I couldn't believe someone so young and so pretty could die like this."

That incident, and wanting to help people, framed the Viccaros' future as volunteers - rescuing people and fighting fires. All of which is a sideline to the postal work. Len is Manchester's postmaster, and Gail is a Customer Service supervisor in nearby Canandaigua. They've been married 28 years.

In his 35 years of volunteering, Len has experienced the flip side of death, too - he has delivered three babies. "We do and see everything. The babies make you happy, but there also is an element of fear. I've been scared many times. Fire is my enemy. If you don't respect it, it will get you."

In spite of all he's seen, Len is not overprotective of his wife, Gail, who became a firefighter after discovering one of her female neighbors had joined. "Then I found out she only directed traffic for the department and cooked," Gail laughs. "But that doesn't matter because I get to spend time with Len. The work certainly isn't very ladylike, but I feel I'm contributing."

Gail, by no means muscle-bound at a slim 136 pounds for her 5-foot-11-inch height, sees herself as a support person for the department. "I lug 40-pound hoses (when dry), round up tools and lay down tarp." In addition to the grunt work, Gail became the first female executive director of the Northern Central Volunteer Fireman's Association for Ontario County last year. In that job, she keeps 35 fire departments alert to legislation affecting them.

Len, his 5-foot-7 frame clad in a red checkered shirt underneath his yellow-and-black fire jacket, is now the assistant chief. He directs 35 volunteer firefighters to protect the 3,800 residents in the Manchester area and handles 150 calls a year. An insulin-dependent diabetic, Len wonders how long his stamina will hold up. Gail, 47, wonders the same about herself. After a recent seven-hour lumberyard fire lasting until 2 a.m., she says her muscles were sore for two days. "But we cheat," Len adds with a wink. "We have a Jacuzzi."

The pair faced their worst fears 11 years ago when extinguishing a fire that hit Len's post office - a 12-hour ordeal. Gail insisted Len leave the burning brick building because of a leak in his mask. As Len was exiting, someone opened the back door, creating a dreadful and dangerous back-draft, that blew Len out the front of the building. He landed in-between two collection boxes. Not knowing what had happened, Gail came outside and jokingly asked him, "Can't you take a little smoke?" Then, she recalls, "I looked down horrified to see Len's bloodied face and broken teeth as he raised his head to look back at me with a weak smile."

After 13 years of fire- fighting, Gail is more practical than flamboyant. "When I respond to calls, I throw my 35 pounds of gear over whatever I'm wearing at the time," she says casually. "Once I left a pool in my bathing suit, and I've responded more than once in a dress."

"But she always carries a tube of lipstick," Len quips.

"When you get up at three in the morning, what else do you expect?" she counters.

Their back-and-forth banter helps the Viccaros relieve the sadness and disappointment from the tragedies they've faced. And as parents, it helps them deal with their fears for the safety of their 23-year-old daughter, Vicki. It should be no surprise that she is a volunteer firefighter, too.

"But none of us would do it differently," Len adds. "When you live in a community, you can't just take, you have to give something back. That's how we live and that's what we do."