Calculating the Value of Knoxville's Smoke Eaters

James R. Newman (KFD)
McClung Historical
Digital Collection

The October 13, 1891 edition of the Knoxville Journal ran the following article below on the trials and tribulations of a fireman in response to cries from local taxpayers that the average Knoxville fire lady is "well paid." The Journal countered that Knoxville's smoke eaters earned $45 per month, or, broken down, 6 cents per hour, a rate which was 4 cents an hour less than the common laborer:

"A Crying Wrong: The life of a fireman is a dangerous one. Every time the gong sounds an alarm in the engine house, the fireman takes his life in his hand and rushes forth on his mission to save. No one can tell when a falling wall will end his days, or one of the thousand dangers incident upon fighting fire will cut short his life. There goes a engine down the street, the horses frenzied and going at the highest speed. Everything is excited, and no thought reigns save to reach the fire in the quickest possible time. The clang of the gong, the roar of the engine, the rattle of the wheels over the stony streets, the cries of the people, the haste of the drivers of vehicles to clear the way, warnings to pedestrians hurled out combine to make a scene difficult to paint. But a corner is turned and right in the way comes a huge dray the driver unalert. There are fierce shouts but too late for the heavy wheels of the engine and those of the wagon are momentarily locked and in the shock out goes the body of a man in helmet and rubber boots to land on his head to be picked up with a  broken neck, or may be he is thrown violently to the earth and a limb broken. Little time to attend to him if the engine is able to move on. The fire is the thing. Or, may be in the mad haste a street car rail raised above the legal height does the work and some poor woman is made a widow and some poor children orphans; or some poor chap is laid up with broken bones, in for a long siege before convalescence comes.

Once at the fire a host of dangers threaten. The nozzle must be carried close into the burning building to quench the conflagration. It is the post of danger. Lives may be imperiled and into that blaze some daring fire laddy must go. A wall or a floor may collapse at any moment and some poor fellow be hurled into a furnace or be struck to earth and red-hot bricks piled on him. Perhaps, if all great perils be averted, it is winter and before the flames are extinguished every fireman present may be wringing, dripping wet from head to foot, and the heat of the fire gone, before they can return to he engine house they are walking icicles, clad in an armor of ice to induce rheumatism and pulmonary diseases.

And that dreary monotonous quiet that follows with nothing to do but to wait for a summons that no one knows when will come. Tied down to the engine house or at best within a few feet of it there is nothing to vary the monotony that becomes the more oppressive in contrast with the actual work of the department. One night a week at home, two days a month off, but always on duty for that alarm must be responded to, practically on duty twenty-four hours out of twenty-four it is a life that few would care to live.       

"But," the readers objects, "they are well paid." Yes, for the very best years of their lives, for their courage and skill and perils, a gracious and proud city pays her fire laddies the munificent, the princely, the exorbitant sum of six cents per hour, $45 per month! For six cents an hour the fireman is to take all the manifold risks of fighting fire. Is it not a shame? A city that is rich and prosperous, growing and progressive, paying men picked, chosen, drilled and disciplined, four cents an hour less than is paid to common laborers who work on the streets!

Why this is so The Journal does not attempt to say. It is so and that is sufficient. If it be due to economy then economy is a vampire, a cruel savage vampire. The Journal will have more to say on this subject."

Knoxville Journal, Oct. 13, 1891