The town meeting is one of those sacred institutions that occurs usually in the first quarter in many smaller, rural communities.
It’s prominent in New England, but there are some western communities and a smattering of others around the country that practice this direct form of democracy. A town meeting is the way resident voters get to decide how they spend their tax dollars to set policies and directions for the future.
As I write this, I am thinking about my hometown town meeting earlier this year. At 9 a.m. on a snowy Saturday morning, about 200 of us gathered in the middle school gym, some of us sitting on folding metal chairs, others sitting on the hard, high-rise bleachers. A local veteran led the flag salute, and we were off to the races.
Some call the town meeting the purest form of democracy. Articles, which are narratives explaining what is being asked, are decided right there in person by a yes or no vote and business for the year is completed efficiently and usually with civility and decorum.
It is amazing to me how voters can decide to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars, and even millions, of their money in minutes. Of course, there’s an expectation that voters have a clue about what’s happening before the meeting convenes, which helps expedite the process.
As a native and essentially a life-long resident of rural New Hampshire, it’s the only way that I’ve ever had the chance to make decisions on how my taxes are spent. I am fully aware of the city council form of government in which representatives decide for me—and that’s OK too, just further removed and less intimate.
In any event, taxpayers are asked to raise and appropriate every penny our fire departments, EMS providers, and police officers spend to keep us safe and protected. I know I have pontificated on this point before, but as emergency service providers, we must never forget where the money comes from that we use to provide the services the citizens need.
The fire trucks we drive, the turnout gear we don, the heart monitors we interpret, and the stretchers we lift are all paid for by money earned by someone else. Think about it. The PPE we put on from the boots on our feet, to the hood and helmet on our heads, to the airpack on our backs—can easily cost in excess of $10,000.
Then think about that half-million-dollar apparatus we rode to the scene on and the $1,000 nozzle we have in our hands, the thermal imaging camera that can cost several thousands of dollars, and the radio for a couple of grand more. The list goes on and on, all the way down to the gadgets we have in our pockets that can amount to a couple of hundred bucks.
I am also aware of our brothers and sisters who do not get municipal support from taxpayers or other government support. They must earn every penny themselves. Ham and bean dinners, chicken barbecues, gun raffles, Saturday night bingo, and outright charitable solicitations are how they keep trucks on the road and boots on the ground.
We need to appreciate the support others give us every day, whether it’s through taxation or donation; somebody has to pay for the fuel that keeps the apparatus moving, the foam solution in the tanks, and even the electricity on at the station. It all costs money.
Let’s make sure we thank our taxpayers for the support they provide us faithfully every year. Let’s appreciate the people who reach for their wallets or checkbooks to buy a raffle ticket or two or stuff the donation boot.
Let’s not forget the most valuable resource of all, the human resource. That’s where we come in. Whether we are paid career firefighters, on-call personnel, or straight volunteers, we are the people who make use of all that capital equipment. As the public has made investments in us, we must make investments in ourselves to train as often as and as hard as we can to make the whole fire service work. There’s a reciprocal relationship. There’s a fine balance that we need to respect and understand. Without public support, whether it is through tax revenue or straight donations, we can’t do what we love—fight fire and help others. And without us, taxpayers have a bunch of shiny trucks and a lot of equipment most wouldn’t have a clue how to use.
The public shows appreciation by giving us money and perhaps a nice letter or a commendation here and there. We need to show our appreciation too by willingly driving the trucks in the Fourth of July parade, helping with a work detail to put up community holiday decorations, or perhaps setting up chairs at a town meeting—and do so with a glad heart.
Remember who pays the bills—the public we serve. Never forget that.
