Andrews Inn
Aftermath of the Star Hotel Fire, December 30, 1981. Photo by Jeremy Youst. Collection of Andrews Inn Oral History Project.
Photo by Evie Lovett
At that time I was in Westminster Fire Department, and we started the first response squad in Westminster and we're trying to get the fire department to recognize it and include us. And there were three women in the fire department. I was down behind the [unintelligible] there's a canal and we were pumping, we had a pumper truck and we were pumping the water up to the fire. And there was no way. It was a four story brick building. So the floors would burn out and they were falling and then the walls were going to go. Let's see, the wall toward us and the wall towards the front I think must have gone at the same time. And there was a substation right behind it. So when the wall went on our side it hit the power line, and that started dancing on the snow. And we went—they pulled us in the Andrews Inn—now I said through a window, and now when I think about it, it was probably a door with snow built up at the door. And they pulled us through the back door because we had nowhere to go. And we were scared, really. We levitated and walked on that snow and went through that door, you know. Outside there you'll see two benches, two marble benches, with the name of two firefighters who died in that fire.
So inside the bar, they say "Eva you take out coffee and cigarettes?" So the generator was set up. The lights came on. You know, the power is totally out. And, so I go back in the inn and get a tray—and they had lit candles—and so I got a tray with coffee and cigarettes. Now, I didn't smoke at the time, but, you know, under pressure, somebody needs something, I'm there for them. And here they are at a fire, smoking a cigarette. And at that point, I didn't have a full uniform, I had a coat, on the back of it it said "Westminster Fire Department." And I had jeans on and boots, and I'm carrying the tray when the town manager comes over and takes a cup of coffee. And I say to him, "excuse me, sir, this is for the folks in my fire department." And he looked at me, picked the cup up. He dropped it so it splashed up on me, and my fire chief across the way came running. He came running and I kept going with the tray and he came running. I knew that, that was, he was going to chew this guy up. And probably two weeks later, my housemate-lover at the time, well, I was in relation two women. They arrived with the uniform, my name on the back and the right size for me and the pants and the suspenders and so on.
Transformation happens in all of us, sometimes like that. And sometimes it's a gradual thing. And I think that that was what was happening. And I was privileged to be a part of it, really privileged to be a part of it. And after that, I didn't hear jokes about the Andrews Inn in around the fire department, and ridiculous things being said. Yeah, I think self reflection is a big part of it. Yeah. And to be a first responder for me in this area where, in the middle of winter you go down over the bank and you know that rescue is going to take forever to get here. You're down over the bank for somebody and they may be doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief, whatever they are, nobody asked me what my sexual preferences or my political beliefs. They were happy to see me to assist. And that's the thing, is that. Yeah, you can catch a lot more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. And for me, that's important way to lead my life. And it doesn't mean that I haven't gone through stages of real anger and rage at the ignorance and madness of things. That is the biggest thing. Yeah, that inch by inch, and row-row-row, that that's the way of the world—it's not transformed, but that it meets because it's rain that wears away the rock. — Eva Mondon