By Raenard Weddington
Baltimore Watchdog Staff Writer
A blaring buzz resonates through Dundalk Fire Station #6. The sound would have jolted most people but not Baltimore County Fire Lt. Twana Allen. She doesn’t even flinch. The moment the buzzer sounds, a wide smile with a hint of cunning materializes on her face.
“There we go,” Allen says.
The station has received an emergency medical call for an elderly woman who passed out in her home. Allen springs up from a chair in the fire captain’s office and makes her way through the halls of the station toward the fire engine, walking tall, strong, fast and resolute, exuding unwavering confidence and determination.
Allen, 41, is a 14-year veteran of the Baltimore County Fire Department who made history in 2015 when she became the first African American woman to be promoted fire lieutenant in Baltimore County.
Allen, who admittedly has a hard time talking about herself, is hesitant to applaud the significance of her accomplishment, reluctant even.
“My friends say I’m too humble,” Allen says, sitting in her captain’s chair peering down at her knees. The enormity of the historical feat didn’t hit her until family members began reminding her of how monumental her promotion was.
One of her cousins, a captain in the Virginia Beach Fire Department, told her that she is eliminating barriers for other African American women who aspire to have careers in the fire protection industry. “Cuz, you are really doing big things,” Allen quoted him as saying.
Allen says that she’s never afraid to take control of an emergency situation, but she likes to give her colleagues freedom to make critical decisions.
When Allen and her crew arrive at the elderly woman’s home, the paramedics are on the scene assessing the woman’s condition. Allen observes, only intervening when needed.
The woman insists that she didn’t pass out – she simply tripped and fell. Her husband says otherwise.
Allen questions the woman about her medical history after she emits a nasty cough. A former emergency medical technician (EMT), Allen is certain the woman has chronic obtrusive pulmonary disease.
“As an EMT, when you see things enough you know,” Allen says. “When you see the signs and symptoms, you just know.”
At the insistence of her husband and paramedics, the woman finally agrees to go to the hospital.
Allen is a self proclaimed “adrenaline junkie” and says that while emergency medical service calls like this one are an everyday occurrence, what she really craves are flames.
In the engine, Allen bonds with her crew over the excitement of the job, uproariously remarking about how exhilarating it is to smell fire.
“My adrenaline didn’t get pumping for that,” Allen says to her crew.
They’re thrill-seekers – every member of the crew.
“The orange stuff,” says EMT firefighter Chris Hunter, shaking his head with a mischievous grin across his face. “When you make that turn, and you can smell it…”
Talk of different types of fires and the scents that emanates from them riles up the crew. They are almost itching for the chance to rush into a burning building and help those who are in need.
“Like Chris said, the orange stuff, the smell,” Allen says. “Oh yeah. When you’re sitting here and you see a black column of smoke, it’s like whoa. Let’s get it. Black smoke? That’s fire.”
But they are not blind to the danger. They know that fires kill thousands of Americans each year, including those who fight those flames. There have been 13 reported firefighter fatalities so far in 2016, according to the U.S. Fire Administration website.
Despite this danger, Allen says that she and her crew feed off each other’s energy. Part of what strengthens their teamwork is that Allen doesn’t deem herself any more or less valuable than her colleagues below her. She realizes the humanity in all of her team members and knows that they are all invaluable assets.
“The position and title doesn’t make you,” Allen says. “Who you are makes you. I think some people lose sight of that. They become their title and their badge.”
Video: A typical day on the job
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htxu41R1bXg&feature=youtu.be
Today, Allen’s crew is comprised of one other woman and two men, a sign of progress as 20 percent of Baltimore County Fire Department’s sworn members are women – above the national average.
In spite of the progressive strides the county is making, there is no denying that the fire protection industry is one associated with machismo and masculinity.
Nevertheless, the New Jersey native says she wasn’t intimidated and credits her willingness to pursue a career in the male-dominated profession to growing up in a neighborhood primarily populated by boys.
“I grew up with a lot of guys around my way,” Allen says. “There weren’t a lot of girls my age. I had a lot of guy friends and my motto was ‘whatever you can do I can do better.’’’
In her hometown of Avenel, New Jersey, Allen used to race the guys on the block, but when the neighborhood boys would tell her she was the fastest girl in the neighborhood, she would promptly correct them.
“No, I’m the fastest person in the neighborhood,” Allen says.
When the topic of industry sexism comes up, she pauses as if to carefully consider how she wants to attack the topic.
She says that while a man has never explicitly told her on the job that she was incapable, she has had conversations laced with sexist micro aggressions.
“I actually had a coworker say to me, ‘If I go down can you pull me out of a burning building?’”
To which she shot back: “How many men have you asked that question to?” Allen says.
Allen has proven to be a physically capable and formidable woman. In 2014 she was inducted into the Coppin State University Hall of Fame, where she holds the university’s record for indoor 800 meters (2 minutes, 6.74 seconds), which she established in 1996.
Allen says that as a woman she has to show up every day at work and prove her worth. But the one person who never questions her worth is her daughter Jazmyn. She tries her hardest to choke back tears as she talks about the legacy she wants to leave behind for her daughter, “Jazzy.”
“I want Jazzy to know that when you put your mind to anything, you can do anything,” Allen says, blinking wildly as she fiercely fans her eyes to keep the tears from streaming. “Don’t let somebody’s words stop you. The sky is the limit.”
“She’s my world,” Allen says. “She has a great heart.”
Knowing how enlivened Allen becomes discussing fire, it’s hard to imagine that the unabashed adrenaline junkie never anticipated having a career in the fire protection industry. Allen was planning to go to medical school after a yearlong hiatus from her studies following her graduation from Coppin State in 1997 with a Bachelor of Science in Biology.
Allen has always enjoyed helping others, so during her break before medical school, she decided to volunteer at the Woodlawn Volunteer Fire Company.
It was there that a friend persuaded her to apply for an open Baltimore County position. She never went to medical school.
“He kept giving me the paper application and he said, ‘Just fill it out,’” Allen says. “So I said, ‘Fine.’ On the last day I submitted it – and pretty much the rest is history.”
Allen plans to make history once again as she hopes to become the first African-American female fire captain in Baltimore County.
Allen says that she couldn’t be happier with her career and clearly wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Every day I wake up, and I love this.”
1 Comment
Awesome story!!!