When 19-year-old Mike Fuge set out to get hired by the Woodside Fire Protection District in 1964, two things helped clinch the deal for him, he says — he lived within a five-minute drive of the fire station, and he had good penmanship.

Living nearby was mandatory, since firefighters spent every other day off on call by the telephone. The nice handwriting was a bonus, since firefighters recorded all their calls by hand in the logbook, and the chief at the time, John Volpiano, was a stickler for good penmanship, Chief Fuge says.

Forty-two years later, after working his way up through the ranks to become chief in 1992, he has one key piece of advice for his colleagues after he retires on August 31: “Keep using the logbook. I told the guys, ‘Don’t ever lose that.'”

Sure, the fire station has computerized records, but there’s something about those thick stacks of leather-bound logs that tell the story of the fire district in a way that no print-out ever could.

“Every now and then families come in and want to look through the logbooks and see what calls their granddad went on,” Chief Fuge says.

In a profession that’s fiercely attached to its traditions, firefighters also have to constantly adapt and upgrade their skills as technology, science and medicine evolve. This dichotomy is very apparent at the Woodside fire district, which is often among the first to embrace new life-saving technologies and other innovations, but where firefighters also hold on fiercely to the customs that make the job more of a way of life than just a profession.

Fires make up just a small fraction of the calls these days, and since the events of 9/11, firefighters have had to learn how to respond to all kinds of threats, including weapons of mass destruction.

When he joined Woodside fire, CPR was just starting to be used, Chief Fuge says.

By the time he became chief, firefighters had emergency medical technician training, and under his leadership, Woodside became one of the first departments in the county to staff every fire engine with a firefighter/paramedic. Now, about 60 percent of their calls are for emergency medical help, and the district runs an ambulance out if its main station, Chief Fuge says.

The firefighter/paramedics were usually the first emergency personnel to arrive at calls, and in 1999, San Mateo County adopted the system countywide, working out a deal with the AMR ambulance company and other fire departments.

“Paramedics were probably the biggest achievement for the district, because of its location. That was a real problem, waiting for an ambulance and for paramedics to get here,” he says.

Having firefighter/paramedics take the emergency calls cut response times, especially for people in the more remote areas of the Woodside fire district, which covers Woodside, Portola Valley and adjacent unincorporated areas like Los Trancos Woods and Emerald Hills.

“He was instrumental in getting the paramedic program up and running,” says Capt. Kevin Bianchini, a 25-year Woodside firefighter.

Peter Berger, an 18-year member of the district’s board of directors, credits Chief Fuge with a long list of accomplishments during his tenure: numerous public education programs; the Citizens Emergency Response and Preparedness Program, or CERPP; the annual flu shot clinic; building the new station 19 in Emerald Hills; the multi-agency wildland fire drills; and getting emergency generators for Woodside and Portola Valley’s town halls.

“We have one of the most knowledgeable and best wildland fire forces around,” he says.

It wasn’t always that way. When a huge wildfire struck the Arastradero Road area in the early 1980s, firefighters from San Mateo and Santa Clara counties discovered that they couldn’t even communicate with each other while they were battling the blaze, Chief Fuge says.

“We have this huge fire going on with 13 homes burning, and we’ve got two independent operations going on because there is no coordination between the Santa Clara County and the San Mateo County units,” Chief Fuge recalls. “It really showed us our serious weaknesses, so the two counties got together, and we started developing wildland training exercises that got huge.”

As a result, the two counties developed an annual wildland fire drill that kept growing in popularity. Chief Fuge, then a battalion chief and training officer, represented San Mateo County agencies in organizing the drills. At its peak, as many as 55 agencies participated in the three-day exercise, Chief Fuge says. Other fire departments came for the training — and the catered Cajun food and Woodside benefited by learning how to move large volumes of resources, he says.

“After the Oakland hills fire, they invited us to come over and work with them so they could learn how to do the same type of thing,” Chief Fuge says. “We felt it was kind of an honor that there was this recognition of the training program that we developed.”

Proof of the program’s success came when a wildfire broke out near downtown Woodside on Albion Avenue in August 2002.

The blaze, sparked by a eucalyptus branch falling on power lines, burned more than 10 acres and several outbuildings, and embers caused a roof fire about a mile away.

The fire was the biggest in the county since the automatic deployment plan went into effect in 1999, Chief Fuge says, and it showed how effectively it worked.

Originally designed to respond to medical calls as part of the county paramedic agreement, it is also used for fire suppression. County dispatchers will automatically deploy the nearest fire engine to an emergency, regardless of jurisdiction, throughout San Mateo County.

Chief Fuge called at the Albion fire “the low point and the high point” of his career.

“I thought, ‘This is the one we’ve been dreading,’ and that was the low point,” he says. “And the high point was, a lady lost her roof, but that was it. The success was incredible. I felt so good, I don’t think I slept for two days, I was so happy.”

When Chief Fuge was appointed successor to Chief Art Kitto in 1992, he took over a highly regarded department that was one of the best in the region, if not the state, Mr. Berger says.

“Mike said he knew that a pretty high bar had been set for him, and within months he’d reached that bar and surpassed it,” he says.

“He’s determined when he wants to get things done, but he’s very articulate when he wants to be convincing,” Mr. Berger says. “As the chief, he’s more of a leader than a manager.”

Battalion Chief Rick Lombardo, who joined Woodside fire in 1975, credits Chief Fuge with putting a renewed focus on community spirit, whether rescuing the proverbial cat-stuck-in-a-tree or throwing the annual holiday open house. Another key accomplishment was creating a wellness program for firefighters, he says.

About 10 years ago, an off-duty firefighter died of a heart attack, Mr. Lombardo says. “That really bugged Mike, and he always wanted to do something to change that.”

Now, instead of a battered collection of free weights, the fire station’s training room holds a rainbow array of giant gymnastic balls, as well as more sophisticated equipment, and personal trainers come in regularly to coach firefighters on nutrition and training regimens.

Chief Fuge says when he started to suffer from asthma a few years ago, he was so impressed with his improvement after working with a local personal trainer that he brought her in to work with all the other firefighters.

Back when he started out, firefighters were a lot more careless with their health, Chief Fuge says. Everybody smoked cigarettes, nobody thought about ear-protection while running noisy equipment, and inhaling smoke was preferable to using the cumbersome —and uncool — air tanks, he says.

As a result, firefighters tended to not live long enough to enjoy their retirements.

When asked if he keeps in contact with any of the firefighters he worked with when he first started, Chief Fuge had to admit that most of them were dead.

“That’s the sad part, a lot of them died young because their lungs were shot,” he says.

Things are different now. Not only have there been dramatic improvements in safety equipment, but its use is no longer optional.

“He was very progressive, a lot more progressive than his predecessors,” says Ron Puccinelli who retired last year after 48 years with Woodside fire. He recalls meeting Chief Fuge as “a young kid.”

“My first impression of him was that he was definitely a people-person,” Mr. Puccinelli says. “He’s a great family man; his family has always been his pride and joy.”

Of course, that doesn’t mean he didn’t occasionally goof off. “We’ve had a lot of good times together,” Mr. Puccinelli says.

He recalls one time in the late 1960s when the young firefighter was on call and supposed to stay next to his telephone.

“We stretched the rules a little bit,” Mr. Puccinelli says. “We were over on the coast and Mike ended up saving somebody’s life — a person was drowning in the surf. It got written up in the newspaper, and when the chief saw it, he looked up (Mike’s) days off. I don’t think he ever got in trouble for it, though.”

Mr. Puccinelli says that once Chief Fuge retires, he is looking forward to going on more off-road jeeping trips and convening the regular officers’ meetings in a local coffee shop instead of at the fire station.

As for Chief Fuge himself, he says one of the downsides of being a chief has been working a regular Monday-through-Friday schedule.

“When you’re on shift, it creates some problems, but there are also a lot of benefits,” he says. “I was really involved with my kids when they were going to school. I was the first man to be awarded Room Mother of the Year at Selby Lane School.”

And the bond that forms between firefighters on the same shift, who train together, eat together, live together and fight fires together, can’t be broken, he says.

“It really is a lifetime relationship, and that’s the part I just loved,” Chief Fuge says. “They call it the brotherhood, and it’s really true.”

Those bonds extend to firefighters from all over the world that he’s met, says Chief Fuge. One of his best friends is an Australian firefighter he met at the biennial World Police and Fire Games in 1987. Chief Fuge, who competes in archery, says they call each other weekly and already have plans to meet up at next year’s games in Adelaide, Australia.

There’s another reason they call it the brotherhood: Just like siblings, firefighters tease each other, and give each other nicknames, some of which can’t be printed in a family newspaper.

Chief Fuge got plenty of ribbing for his short stature, Mr. Lombardo says.

“We used to use him for getting into tight spots,” he says. “A lot of those big estates had basements or attics with very low ceilings.”

Despite his height, when he retires, Chief Fuge is leaving some big shoes to fill, Mr. Lombardo says.

Woodside Battalion Chief Armando Muela, who heads the district’s emergency medical services, will become the new chief.

Chief Fuge says he’s looking forward to enjoying some of life’s simpler pleasures, things he hasn’t had time for since becoming chief, like washing his car, doing yard work, and strolling down every aisle when he goes to Costco. Of course, there are his three children and grandchildren to spend time with, his favorite archery course at Huddart Park beckons, and he has hunting trips planned with retired Woodside Battalion Chief Bob Nahmens.

But there will still be a fire-fighting Fuge in San Mateo County. One of Chief Fuge’s two sons is a firefighter with the Central County Fire Department.

“That’s my connection, so it makes it a little bit easier to retire, knowing that I’ll be able to visit his department and get involved in what they do,” he says.

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Andrea Gemmet is the editor of The Almanac and a Midpeninsula native who got her first newspaper job while still in high school. After graduating from the University of California, Santa Cruz, she became...

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