Fire Chief Levy Tells of Thrills; 300 Jewish Firemen in N. Y.

When you’ve attended four alarms per day for thirty years Battalion Chief Jacob J. Levy admits that the novelty does wear off a bit.

“I’ve always craved excitement since I was a boy,” he confessed. “Now I feel like the fellow who prayed for rain–and God sent him a flood.”

The Chief, a robust man of fifty-one with a merry twinkle in his gray eyes, is the only Jew to in the United States who holds the position of Fire Chief. Recently fourteen hundred of his friends, fellow-officers and members of the Fourth Battalion which he commands, honored him with a reception at the Great Central Palace on Clinton street. He was presented with a diamond studded gold badge in reward for his thirty years of distinguished service in the department.

In his snug quarters yesterday on the top floor of the fire house on 4 Attorney street the Chief described his feelings on that gala occasion. “Was I excited? I should say not. I’m known as the coolest fireman in the whole department. Nothing ever affects me. The only trouble was that George Raft, the movie star, showed up and stole the whole spotlight away from me. The women made such a scramble for him that the floor surrounding me looked as bald as a billiard ball.” He laughed good humoredly at the reminiscence.

A comparison of conditions past and present recalled to his mind the hardships men suffered years ago in fighting fires.

“They had to be made of steel to stand the system,” he declared. “Frozen hydrants, low pressure, crazy wooden structures impeded progress on every hand. Now with our whole department motorized conditions are comparatively simpler. The men work on the two platoon system which gives them eighty-four hours of duty per week with eighty-four hours off. When I first joined the department it was not unusual to work three days or more without rest or shelter until a fire was completely under control.”

He cited as an outstanding example the Standard Oil fire in Brooklyn fifteen years ago which lasted a week. The disaster covered an area of five blocks and destroyed twenty-three tanks containing a million gallons of oil apiece. Another serious fire in the annals of the department was the destruction of the Equitable Building in 1912. The Fire Chief himself was killed and eight others were burned to death. This fire lasted four days.

“But the most horrible tragedy of all,” the Chief recollected sadly, “and one that even affected my nerves was the Triangle Shirt Waist fire in 1908 when 147 lives were lost. That one I shall never forget as long as I live.”

In reference to the number of Jewish firemen in the city he said: “There are approximately 300 of them and 12 per cent are officers. As to their bravery and efficiency, they are equal to any one. In 1926 I organized a society known as the ‘Naer Tormid’ which means perpetual life. Most of the Jewish boys belong to this association. We supply funds to our sick members and help the families of those who die in service.”

Chief Levy has been listed no less than seven times on New York City’s roll of honor. He carries that many decorations to prove that he risked his life in saving others. He made the most startling ladder rescue in the history of the department twenty-three years ago in a house on Cherry street.

“But the fellow I saved proved to be a maniac,” he confessed ruefully. “He had set fire to the house himself and tried to commit suicide. The boys haven’t quit kidding me about it ever since.”

“I DIDN’T RAISE MY BOY–“

The Chief admitted that his parents did not bring him up to be a fireman. They were middle class fairly well-to-do people in the dry goods business on Essex street.

He graduated Public School 34 and at the ripe age of sixteen married the “Belle of Clinton street.” Then he settled down to the humdrum life of a salesman for the National Biscuit Company. But a fireman friend of his who sported a red helmet opened his eyes to the fallacy of wasting six feet and 200 pounds of bone and muscle on selling crackers. So at twenty-one, as soon as he was eligible, he entered the ranks of the Fire Department, where he has remained ever since. His twin brother, Benjamin, who followed in his footsteps, is now Captain of Engine Company 231 in Brooklyn.

“When do you expect to retire and what will you do with your time then?” the Chief was asked.

“That’s way off yet,” he answered. “Although my wife is a nervous wreck due to my career and wants me to quit; I’ve had so many narrow escapes.” He displayed several severe scars to prove his statement. “But when I do go,” he said, “I expect I’ll hang around the fire house the same as before. I’ve got the calling of the fireman in my blood. I need the excitement.”