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Letters inspire New York firefighter to teach kids

A heartfelt thank you from a Chocachatti student sparks a chain of events that leads a retiree to teach first grade at that same school.

By TOM MARSHALL
Published June 19, 2006

The workaday calls to extinguish fires or assist accident victims kept coming, including the deadly crash of American Airlines Flight 587 in November 2001 in the Rockaway neighborhood of Queens.

But when they weren't on regular shifts, rookies and chiefs alike could be found at the smoldering ruins of Ground Zero, digging for their fallen brothers. In daylight or under the dusty glare of floodlights, even after hope for survivors faded, the search continued.

Battalion Chief Bob Stec, commander of Battalion 20 in the Bronx, was spending long hours at what he calls "the job site" when he received a package of letters from Chocachatti Elementary School that changed his life. Even now, one note from a fifth-grade girl stands out in his memory.

"She said, 'You know, I love what you're doing down there in helping people out. I'm only 10 years old, but if it was up to me I'd give you all medals.'"

That letter, and many others from Hernando County, set in motion a chain of events that still makes Stec laugh and scratch his head in wonderment.

This spring, with a freshly minted college degree under his arm, he moved into a new Brooksville home with his wife and son. Now he's preparing to begin a second career in August as a first-grade teacher after 28 years fighting fires.

His school? Chocachatti. Of course.

He hadn't been down in Lower Manhattan on the day the towers fell. He wasn't even supposed to be working.

But Stec showed up anyway that afternoon, along with everyone else in the fire service, and pitched in, digging and hauling and hoping.

"I probably knew, personally, at least 100 of those fellows," he reckons, describing the tightknit world of New York firehouses. When the New York Times published photos of the department's 9/11 victims, he showed his son every one.

And in those grim days when even the air at Ground Zero posed a threat, the letters made a difference.

"We literally got hundreds of letters from kids all over the country," Stec said. "Some would make you cry, some would actually make you laugh. They would say stuff like, 'I hope you're getting enough to eat, I hope you're getting enough to sleep, I hope you get to go home and see your family.' "

But that letter from Chocachatti somehow tugged at his heart in a different way, and Stec can still recite lines from memory.

"Further on in the letter, she wrote, 'The fact that you're reading this means the world to me.' And when she signed off on it, she wrote, 'Sorry for taking up your time.' "

Renee Golz, then a second-grade teacher at Chocachatti, had taken part in the school campaign to write some of those letters. Pete Paolillo - a firefighter from Hernando County Fire Rescue who wanted to do something, anything to help out - took them to New York and left them at Stec's firehouse.

Stec was moved to write back and, in the writing, found solace.

"I had to really think of my audience," he said. "That took my mind off other things."

In March 2002 he visited Golz's class while on a much-needed vacation with his wife to Walt Disney World. Chocachatti was a different world than the stiff parochial schools he'd attended, with lively students and motivated teachers.

A little boy told Stec he wanted to read him a story, and then asked the chief for help on a few words.

"I was kind of like, 'Wow, he's asking me to do this,' " Stec recalled. "And I was happy to do it. That kind of hooked me, I think."

***

So now, a 53-year-old former fire chief has a classroom to prepare and lesson plans to consider and parent-teacher conferences.

He's not a complete rookie, after student-teaching at two elementary schools since his January retirement from the Fire Department, as well as occasional substitute teaching.

He earned his degree in history and elementary education from Western Connecticut State University, graduating summa cum laude.

"Am I worried?" he asked, grinning. "Probably a little bit. Nervous excitement, I guess."

But it's a different kind of nervous. Not like the fear you'll make a bad decision that sends a young firefighter to his death. Compared to that, Stec said, teaching is positively relaxing.

"I used to tell teachers, 'Don't take that the wrong way, because I know this is hard work,' " he added. But "I was putting young people in dangerous situations. That was my job."

Now the job is teaching young children how to read, write, do some math, and perhaps begin to figure out how they'll spend their own lives.

It's also thinking on your feet, being ready for those tough questions out of left field. Like the student who caught him one day misspelling a word on the blackboard.

"He said, 'You spelled that wrong!' I said, 'You're right. But you know, today is Friday. This is Foggy Friday.' "

And Foggy Friday begat Marvelous Monday and Tremendous Tuesday, and pretty soon students wanted to know how to spell those words, too.

It's a far cry from the typical fire chief's retirement.

"Most of us love the job so much, when we retire we don't know what to do with ourselves," Stec said. "To me, this is a godsend. I found something to love."

Tom Marshall can be reached at tmarshall@sptimes.com or (352) 848-1431.

[Last modified June 19, 2006, 08:31:42]