BRUMMER MEDAL

FIREFIGHTER  

CARLOS R. CAMACHO  

LADDER COMPANY 38  

 Appointed to the FDNY November 24, 1973.

 Served in the United States Army 1961-1963, in the 82 Airborne Division at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

9 Resides in Orange County, NY with wife Aurea and their children Christopher and Cory.

The late Bertram Brummer and his wife Susie have had a longstanding interest in the FDNY Bertram, a member of the New York Stock Exchange, received training during WWII at the Fire Department College and was assigned to Engine 44, in the Auxiliary Corps. In 1961 Bertram and Susie Brummer endowed this medal to be awarded annually for an act of bravery. Awarded for the first time in 1962.

The long summer day was drawing to a close. The heat of the day had waned and a cool evening breeze was beginning to drift through the Belmont section of the Bronx. The relief was welcome as residents relaxed in makeshift chairs and on front stoops to partake in idle conversation. On Crescent Avenue, the evening had barely gotten underway when people recognized a smell wafting through the air. The all too famillar odor of burning wood and paint alerted them that something was wrong.

A few blocks away in the quarters of Ladder 38, the teleprinter sheet transmitted by the dispatcher's office indicated that a telephone caller was reporting a fire at 660 Crescent Avenue.

The firefighters sped to the site with their usual alacrity. As they moved into the street to stop traffic and pave the way for fire apparatus to enter, Carlos "Ray" Camacho could see smoke in the sky in the direction of the address. Assigned the outside ventilation position and seated facing the direction of the response, he could see a five story, non fireproof, occupied multiple dwelling with smoke pushing from the second floor windows. Filling the streets were hysterical occupants fleeing the building's 30 apartments. Through the screams and chaos, word got out that people were trapped in the fire apartment.

Springing into action, Ray quickly sized up the situation. He realized that access to his assigned position behind the building was going to be extremely difficult since the rear alley was obstructed by padlocked gates. But fighting fires in this neighborhood for 13 years taught Ray that there is usually more than one way to get into a rear yard. Using his powers of deductive reasoning, he surmised by the layout of the block that an alley removed from the fire building would permit access to the desired location.  As he turned the corner into the rear yard, he could see the fire clearly. Smoke was pushing out through every available crack in the brick walls and through every open window that served the apartment. Onlookers in the rear yard excitedly informed him that a child was just seen at the window of the fire escape, but had disappeared into the smoke.  While climbing the vertical drop ladder to the second‑floor balcony, he plotted his attack. He knew that once he entered the apartment he would be in the path of the advancing hose line being stretched. What he didn't know was that fire had already taken total control of four rooms in the apartment and had traveled into the public hallway, severely exposing the upper floors via an open stairwell.   

The engine company was going to have to fight its way through fire just to get into position at the apartment door. Even if he were aware of this, Ray would still have continued his foray into an inferno that was escalating with each passing second. He pressed on, took one look at the room he was about to enter and intuitively knew it was only seconds away from igniting. Undaunted, he lunged into the smoke and dropped to the floor to get under the heat, hoping that with a little luck he might get a glimpse of the apartment layout under the smoke. His initial ventilation efforts provided some visibility. The heated, blinding smoke was being carried out of the upper part of the broken windows and replaced by cool air from the outside that flowed into the room and down to the floor. He quickly scanned the surroundings in order to assess the situation. Then he noticed a sea of yellow fire in the next room through the door.Laying on the floor under the encroaching fire was a very young girl, helpless and motionless. At that moment, his sole purpose was getting to that child. Ray ignored the fire over his head and in one deliberate motion, scooped her up and retreated to the fire escape. When he reached the window he handed the child out to Firefighter Al Miskiewicz, who in turn passed her down to another firefighter equipped with a resuscitator. Knowing that the child was in capable hands, Ray returned to his duties and fulfilled the remainder of his responsibilities. Four year old Tawana, Ward was eventually transported to the Hyperbaric Chamber on City Island for treatment of carbon monoxide poisoning. Ray's split second actions were instrumental in reestablishing this young girl's vitality.  

The thrill of accomplishing the ultimate act a firefighter can perform is one that eludes description. Years of training and preparation for such a task are suddenly consumed in a few short seconds of purposeful action. Nobody knows the time when they'll be called upon to employ all of their collective skills to fulfill their sworn duty. But the people we are honoring today are not among those who simply fulfilled their responsibilities. These are firefighters who went beyond that point, risking their lives in the process.   

Firefighter Carlos Raymond Camacho entered a burning apartment without the protection of a hose line alone and without knowing the true extent of the fire so that he could save the life of a helpless four‑year old child. She would surely have died were it not for his supreme dedication and willingness to go one step beyond that which was expected. For that, we honor Ray with the Brummer Medal.