What is fire buffing? Strip away the noise, and it is simple: it is the disciplined documentation of the fire service by those who are not firefighters themselves. A fire buff is someone with a sustained interest in firefighters, apparatus, and emergency operations, and who chooses to preserve those moments through photography, video, and written record. The term dates back to the 1700s, when spectators at major fires wore buffalo-skin coats, eventually giving rise to the name “fire buff.” Over time, “buff” came to mean anyone deeply interested in a subject—like a history buff. In the fire service world, it refers to those who observe, document, and archive.

There are different kinds of buffs. Some focus on apparatus photography. Others document working incidents. Some position themselves along response routes to capture engines and trucks running lights and sirens. My work has largely fallen into that multimedia category—documenting responses, preserving visual history, and producing tribute-style archival videos. It began with a single house fire near my childhood home. I walked up the street with a camera and started recording what I saw. Afterward, I went to the station and introduced myself. The firefighters explained their work, told me where to stand, what hazards to watch for, and how to conduct myself. That early guidance shaped everything that followed. A fire scene is not a stage. It is an active, dangerous workplace. Each department operates differently, and some do not permit buffs at all. That must be respected.

In 2006, being a multimedia-focused fire buff was not common. The early YouTube era had only a handful of serious tribute channels, including “Pumpfire,” created by Pennsylvania firefighter Chris Haldeman. Inspired by that format, I began producing tribute music videos for fire departments. Over time, that work grew into a catalog of 265 firefighter tribute and documentation videos. No local volunteer department Public Information Officer is tasked with producing long-form, artistic archival tributes at that scale. Municipal budgets prioritize apparatus, staffing, and life safety. They should. A single engine can cost $800,000. Archival media work typically falls outside those priorities. That gap is where independent documentation lives.

Modern smartphones have made instant documentation easy. Skill has not become easier. Meaningful fire buff work still requires understanding fireground safety, maintaining distance, wearing proper footwear, reading hazards like live wires or unstable structures, and presenting material responsibly. A scanner and a camera do not equal competence. Discipline does. Respect does. Some departments do not want buffs present. That is their prerogative operationally. The fire scene belongs to the fire department. Operational zones and safety perimeters are not suggestions. At the same time, documenting public emergency response from lawful vantage points is protected activity. Freedom of speech and freedom of the press exist for a reason. My work has continued for more than two decades because it has been grounded in experience, consistency, and respect for both the law and the craft.

Over time, my fire buff work expanded beyond West Virginia. While Wheeling Fire Department and the Pittsburgh Bureau of Fire were my primary on-scene departments during certain years, I broadened my reach through Code 99 Firefighter Tributes. That platform featured departments such as Kentland 33 in Prince George’s County, Maryland—often described as one of the busiest volunteer stations in the country—Baltimore City Fire Department Engine 8/Truck 10, the District of Columbia Fire & EMS, and additional tributes to Pittsburgh IAFF Local 1 firefighters. In several cases, I did not film the original footage. What I contributed was editorial vision—shaping raw content into cohesive, historically minded tributes. I also discussed fire buffing in depth on a firefighter podcast with national and international reach, further documenting the philosophy behind the work.

Fire buffing, at its best, is not about chasing lights and sirens. It is about preserving history, honoring service, and documenting the visual language of the fire service for future generations. It demands restraint as much as passion. Done correctly, it becomes a form of independent archival journalism—created not for approval, but for the historical record.