As a scanner goes off in his kitchen announcing an emergency situation in Port Byron, Earl Ward does his best to ignore it.

It's hard for the 69-year-old to concentrate on anything else when the scanner sounds. His head cocks to one side as he pauses the conversation. He listens completely to the dispatcher, and then corrects her mistake.

She makes mention of a post office in Weedsport, but she means Port Byron. Ward catches the slip, smiles and silently congratulates himself not only for finding the error, but also for staying put. In earlier days, he would have been out the door by now, en route to the emergency.

In his 40 years of firefighting and medic work, Ward has responded to thousands of calls, both minor and tragic. He ended his career with the Weedsport ambulance squad recently after years of service and has many stories to tell.

One of the most engaging tales Ward has to tell is that of he got into the profession and how firefighting and EMT work has changed markedly over the years.

Though Ward was a self-described "farm boy," firefighting always held an allure for him. When his family moved to Owasco, it seemed as though everyone was involved in the volunteer fire service.

"We lived near a firehouse and everyone in the neighborhood belonged. It was a community thing. Everyone just got together," Ward said.

When he was old enough, Ward joined as a firefighter himself. It seemed the natural thing to do for someone who enjoyed socializing. While at the firehouse, the volunteers played cards and even hosted dance classes thanks to Ward and his wife, Linda. It was a congenial and supportive atmosphere and one that Ward clearly misses.

During his early days with Owasco, fighting fires was not the precise science that it is today. The technology simply wasn't there to equip the firefighters and so they had to make do with basic gear. Ward attributes the changes over the years to OSHA's involvement in workplace safety.

"When I started we wore unlined rubber coats and rubber boots and a helmet. Now you have heavy turnout gear, masks, gloves, helmets, oxygen tanks," he said. "It's terrible hot and terrible heavy."

But those many pounds of equipment speak to the great changes that have been made to the fire and rescue ethos.

During Ward's first couple of years with the department, few if any volunteers were trained in first aid and CPR. They could put out fires, but they might not be able to resuscitate someone who was having a heart attack or choking.

So Ward took it upon himself to get Red Cross-certified. He says his two oldest daughters were the impetus for the training.

"It was kind of selfish. I did it to watch over my own family," he said.

After learning the basics, Ward decided to continue his training and became an EMT, a certification he's held for over 35 years. He's said it's rare now that anyone stays an EMT for very long. With a burn-out rate of two to three years due to increasing time commitments and liability issues, EMTs who stick with it are getting harder to find.

"Family people don't want to be away from their families and the paperwork is awful," he said.

Two years ago, Ward responded to 650 calls in one year. If you do the math, that's nearly two a day. That workload is part of the reason Ward decided to taper off his ambulance and fire service duties. He retired eight years ago from his job as a utility maintenance operator at Anheiser Busch in Baldwinsville and he wanted to enjoy his retirement.

Though he doesn't take as many calls as he used to, Linda said she sees him even less now.

"I used to see him more when he was working," she said. "But there's no sense in just sitting and watching life pass you by."

Linda's been on this journey with her husband for 47 years and has had to get used to a lot from this man for whom saving lives is a full-time occupation. Emergencies don't always happen at the most convenient times and Linda has dealt with this for years. She's even gotten used to a scanner in their bedroom.

Ward recalls many a time when Linda has been left where she's standing when his pager goes off.

"She's gotten used to getting left on a street corner. She's got left quite a few times," he said with a chuckle.

In his time as an EMT and trauma medic with Weedsport, Ward has seen his share of gore and tragedy, but he's too much a gentleman to divulge the gritty details. He will say that he's responded to gruesome train wrecks, airplane crashes and massive fires where people have burned to death.

None of this really gets him down. He attributes this to his childhood growing up on a farm.

"It doesn't bother me. Maybe because I was raised on a farm and we butchered our own chickens and cows," he said. "After this many years, I think I've seen it all."

Before the Cayuga County Red Cross sent Ward to New York City after 9/11, they worried that he might not be able to handle the stress, he said. But it was not even a question for him. He had to help.

"I told them, 'What could be worse than what I've already seen?'," Ward said.

The only thing that has truly rattled him over the years are calls involving children. Perhaps it's because he and Linda have four children and five grandchildren that emergencies involving children are so difficult.

"Kids are the hardest to help. Emotionally what gets me are kids. The aftermath builds up in me," he said.

"Adults I can handle. They know you'll do the best you can. But kids are scared. They just want their mothers."

Now that Ward has scaled back his EMT work, there is an obvious void in the department. Charlie Kreplin, the oldest active member of the Weedsport Fire Department at 75, said people still wonder where Ward has gone. In his many years of service, Ward clearly made an impression on those he helped and people still ask for him.

"The first thing people would say when he left was 'Where's Earl?' There was a warm feeling when Earl was in the back of the ambulance. People relaxed," Kreplin said. "They knew they would get good care from Earl.