Apparatus Operator, HU56A
Deceased:
July 14, 2015
Appointed:
02/10/1968
Pensioned:
Disability 12/18/1993 – HU56A
Details on the Celebration of Life.
Interment:
PRIVATE
Donations:
IN LIEU OF FLOWERS, PLEASE SEND DONATIONS TO:
Widows, Orphans & Disabled Firemen’s Fund
PO BOX 41903
Los Angeles, CA 90041
Monty, a true A/O. Rough, gruff, outspoken. One of the most likable guys I have ever known. Budweiser, Pall Mall’s & Oreo’s. Fisherman, Racer & hell of a mechanic……. A friend…….RIP Monty!
A man who is sorely missed and will long be remembered. There never was nor will be anyone on our job quite like Monty. Just the mention of his name made generations of firefighters smile, always wondering what the next sentence would bring. In every case, it would help us all realize how fortunate we are to be a part of this great vocation, and to work alongside people like him. Rest in Peace Monty.
Remember having coffee with Monty so many times down at 33’s. He was, no doubt, one of a kind. RIP friend.
Rest in peace Monty, I had the honor of working with Monty and Bill Whitcher at old 27’s.
I remember my classmates that were rookies in Battalion 13 always talking about this
Majesky character an awsome hard charging A/O.
Well I never met Majesky until I promoted to Engineer in 1984. By now my vision of Majesky was that of Paul Bunyan a giant of a man! Much to my surprise! my first structure fire with 33’s, out steps the A/O out of truck 33. I asked Captain Mackey, who is that? He chuckled and said that’s Majesky.
Needless to to say that vision of Paul Bunyan went right out the window. What he lacked in stature and braun he made up for it with knowledge and experience that he passed on to all of us.
REST IN PEACE MONTY you will be missed
Monty set the bar for others to try and attain. His contributions to the fire service will live on for a long time as he trained many rookie firefighters with the skills they would need to save their own lives as well as others by leading by example.
Monty was a wonderful friend to my dad John Squire and a friend to the entire Squire family. On behalf of our family, prayers and condolences go out to the Majesky family.
A true Auto-Fireman. Thanks Pops. It was an awesome ride. Rest easy brother.
Monty, you are still one of the best. Thank you for being you. We learned so much from you. Rest in peace good guy. Duane Warth
Monty was one of a kind. I have many good memories with Monty. Memories that include A/O’s together Monty at 33’s and I was at 14’s, Heavy U that include being on the look out for Chevy’s that Monty would pick up with the Heavy U, especialy El Caminos and drag racing. There will never be another like him. Rest in peace friend.
You could write a book about old “mayonnaise legs”. A true classic of a man, as smart as they come and the guy who ran 33’s. Think’n 3 steps ahead all the time, whether at a fire, play’n cards, or selling you a custom fish’n rod and his old tackle box. I will forever treasure my time with him on and off the job and words can not express my heartfelt thanks for what he did for me, while I was try’n to be 1/10th of the fireman he was. God Bless you and thanks for everything, you grouchy old Polock. I’ll never forget you. You were the best.
I was fortunate to be assigned to FS-33 (Fire City) when Monty was there. Although we were not on the same shift, his personality had a positive affect on all three shifts. Many great memories of my time at 33’s and I have always been proud to say that I worked there when Monty was there. He was truly a LAFD Legend
RIP Monty my friend. You were the true legend of 33’s. You mentored so many young Firemen who turned out to become excellent
Assets to the department. Thank you for the years I had the pleasure of working with you. You are not forgotten.
Not only is Monty a legend at FS-33 but also throughout the entire fire department. To see Monty rise from his chair to speak at a fellow Fireman’s dinner brought fear to the hearts of many, NO everyone’s.
Classic man. Thanks for your friendship, it is special. Peace with you Missy
Thanks Jim, look forward to seeing you Saturday.
A/O Monty D. Majesky
Monty was my relief at Fire Station 33 from 1982 through mid-1985 and it goes without saying, I am in the long line of members who say it was an honor to have known him.
He was a storyteller and his style was full of hysterical whit and wisdom and shits and f_cks, and arm swinging gestures and noises, and when he finally finished your sides would be aching and your eyes swollen shut with laughter. Monty could turn a simple garage fire into an epic tale of fails and foils and what-the-f_cks but, the interesting thing was, he never embellished; he simply had an intrinsic understanding of firefighting, a keen eye of seeing what was happening around him, and a Steinbeck/Twain way of retelling it. And the story he just told just left another bit of his wisdom inside of you. Monty was a Firemen’s Fireman and his storytelling was his way of passing on his knowledge, his experiences and the traditions of the LAFD. You could not be around him without becoming a better Fireman.
Monty was also Mr. Jaws. He had a direct relationship with the Hurst Jaw-Of-Life Company, and the first hydraulic rescue equipment supplied to the LAFD was through Monty.
I am not sure when Truck 33 got it’s Hurst Tool but, when I was there we were one of the only Truck Companies in the city to have one. We averaged two, sometimes three physical rescue incidents per segment and responded to every corner of Division 1 and Division 2.
Monty was the first extrication expert and we all learned our skills through him.
Every member of the Department today who uses hydraulic power tools can trace their skills and techniques back to Monty Majesky of Truck Company 33.
He was one of a kind; we all loved him, tried to emulate him, and forever, those of us who knew him, will cherish our memories of him.
Monty to me was an inspiration/mentor/friend. He encouraged me to certify on the Heavy U for a back-up operator and then I became his relief at 27’s and 56’s. He taught me how to command the Heavy U and not take guff from anybody while performing my job. People have told me a was a Majesky Jr. on the Hook, and I always took that as a compliment. The kindness and generosity he showed towards me and my family will always be remembered and forever cherished. R.I.P. my friend!!
I never worked professionally for or with the man, the fireman, and now the legend, nor have I seen him for many years, regretfully. I do however have the fondest memories of Monty from the time I was just a boy and my father Cecil Weimer (a retired and deceased LAFD member) introduced him to us as the latest addition to our group of off-road vehicle and dune-buggy enthusiasts. Consisting of family, friends and several other past LAFD members (George True, Dick Peterson, Tom Baltzer & Mickey Paar), off-roading was great in those days (late 60’s-early 70’s), but when Majesky enlisted into our group, it rose to a whole new level for all of us.
From what I’ve read on the blog so far, Monty apparently didn’t change much later in life either. He was always outspoken, more than a bit rough and gruff, and never boring. You knew if he was leading the pact on an early morning or particularly an evening dune run (and after he had a few Coors on board); the ride would often end up becoming an adventure. More than a few times we would find ourselves digging him out of a hole or crevice, or chaining him up and pulling him and his VW buggy out of the drink, but that was only due to the daring, spirited and courageous attitude that he lived his life by, and which naturally spilled over into his enthusiasm for the driving of his off-road vehicles.
He was both bold and fearless in those days, and we all admired and respected him for his willingness to live and experience life head on and without regret. He was also a man of many talents and abilities, and most were self-taught. He accomplished much, succeeded in his career and earned the respect of his peers. It doesn’t get much better than that. I truly consider myself lucky to have known him, to have shared time with him, and that he so often times invited me along for the ride of which he called life!
Thanks for the wisdom Monty…As a young Fireman at old 27’s, I loved the time we spent on the back work bench discussing everything from extrication to ventilation. Your legacy will continue to live on in every member you touched. Well done my friend.
Well where do I start,I met Monty when I was 16 years old as a explorer at old 33’s,my first day there not knowing who he was or what he looked like,one of the guys told me to go out to this old EL Camino parked out back and wake up the two captains so that we could have a line-up,because they had just got back from a fishing trip,one of those guy’s was monty and the other one was Dirt,so as you well know how it went from there.Knowing by now that he was the A/O on the truck and the other guy was the good old school firemen on the engine,well after working there all day with monty I had figure out that once I got on the LAFD that I wanted to be an A/O like monty.Now after 31 plus years on the job now and most of it as an A/O,I’ve worked with Monty at 27,33 and 56’s,he was a good heavy U operator and one hell of a Jaws man,Monty also lived a few blocks from me in the desert,where I spent a lot of time at his house welding and repairing old shit and of course we drink a lot of BEER together,I could go on and on about the Monty stories,anyway thanks partner for all the knowledge and wisdom and showing me the ropes,I will never ever forget you RIP,it’s been a great ride..
Whenever I responded to a victim trapped, which was very often, I felt a sense of relief when my hero Monty Majesty showed up on the Heavy Rescue. Monty was truly a LAFD legend.
RIP Monty Majesty with my utmost respect.
Monty was appropriately enough the first “A/O” I ever met on the job. Having just completed “puke school” as he so eloquently put it, I was assigned to FS 33 A in May of 1980. After the customary ribbing regarding getting in the “wrong line” at City Hall and the blood and gut jokes, Monty got serious took me aside and told me there a few things you must know. Know your job, know your equipment and know your first in. Talk about leading by example. Because the RA was parked next to the Truck I would see Monty checking out his inventory in the morning while I checked out the RA. I would greet him with a “Good Morning Monty’ and he would reply with a “Good Morning Puke” followed by his wry smile.
Even though he and “his” crew would take the pot shots at the Rescue, when the bell rang and Truck 33 was called out to assist with a physical rescue, it was a thing of beauty. Watching Monty use the Jaws of Life to extricate a patient from a mangled vehicle was something to behold. Eventually I got in the “right line” and returned to 33’s but Monty had already moved on to the Heavy U. From time to time I would run into Monty in the field and he not pass on the chance to call me “Puke” followed by the same wry smile he had back at 33’s. I would not have it any other way. Everyone remembers their first day on the job and everyone that knew Monty remembers him. I will cherish those memories because the both included him. Rest in Peace Monty. You are one of a kind.
Monty was the a/o at fs33 when I was doing my paramedic training he was a real character when I mistakenly ate the last of the sos for lunch Monty came in and said let me smell your breath. Needless to say I never lived that down. Great role model ! They don’t make like that any more !
I still think of Monty often ,after 5 1/2 years after his passing, he is still in my heart. Monty and I promoted to Auto Fireman on the same day and were assigned as reliefs at 1’s. We both slid down to 33’s as reliefs after our probation. Later, I made Engineer, and we worked together for a good chunk of years. What a ride! Following Truck 33, with the “Blooker”, one of my nicknames for Monty, and Denny Silgen tillering, I can’t count the # of loom-ups we headed for. I never stopped learning from his talents. The phone line between Lomita, Ca. and Montana, every so often, hums with laughter between Doug Moore and myself with our cherished memories of that guy called “Majesky”!
Part 2, A reflection:
I can’t believe it’s been <5 years he’s been gone. His picture should be in the dictionary under Auto Fireman. I was thinking about him for the last couple of days. His stories were legendary, spontaneous, genuine, and once in a while, brutal. You almost felt like you were right there when it happened. As Schneider truthfully said, Monty could take a simple SFD with a detached garage well involved and present it with a Steinbeck or Mark Twain quality and level of perfection. He was an old school man of the world. That most interesting man in the world guy on that beer commercial couldn’t hold a candle to Pops.
I decided I would go back and re-read some of the notes left behind for the man that handed out the nicknames. It’s too bad he couldn’t put stories about guys named Dirt, Lead Bottom, Slinky, Harpo, Bimbo, Pilgrim, Squirrel, Peaney, Brownie, Ned…just to mention a few in a book. He had a few of his own nicknames over the years, but his last one was POPS and it was fitting.
I went to see him at home and he told me he was nearing the end. True to the end even in the hospital, in his magical Majesky way, when they told him it wasn’t looking good, he asked for a beer. When the nurse said no, I was told he said “…If I’m dying, why can’t I have a beer?”
I have never been given so much verbal grief from someone I admired, respected, and was a lifelong friend. Even getting shi…um…crap from him was educational. We all know one of the rules in a firehouse is if nobody is talking to you, there’s a problem. I remember hearing that and thinking he must really like me. He even shared himself outside the gates of the Fire City. My favorite was when Truck 33’s had a reserve rig; he could make it backfire on demand and did so as he just happened to be going by LAPD Motor Officers with radar guns. When the LF to return to quarters, those Motor cops were parked out front. They would come in and while they had coffee, Monty was busy putting their helmets in the freezer.
Wherever he is I hope he's happy, and hope he's doing well. I’ll see him again soon one day.