ST. CLOUD, Minn. – Jerry Hartsworm was the kind of firefighter who didn't wait for the alarm.

When he heard over his pager that the nearby Freeport Fire Department was responding to a barn fire, he jumped into his truck and headed to the Melrose fire station, knowing his department likely would be called to help.

What happened that day eight months ago left Hartsworm changed. His physical injuries healed, but the mental scars he suffered have left him tormented and unable to work. Adding to the pain is the legal battle he's faced to get the city's insurance carrier to cover his medical expenses and lost wages.

For Hartsworm, 50, who spent four years as a volunteer on the Melrose Fire Department, life is a daily struggle.

"Every one of us, when that pager goes off, we know there's a possibility that we're going to die," he said. "And we accept the fact that we could die. But what I cannot accept is the fact that I'm discarded — that I didn't get hurt the right way to be covered."

In his father's footsteps

Hartsworm had always wanted to be a firefighter like his father, a lieutenant for the St. Cloud Fire Department. He remembers walking into the fire station as a kid, smelling soot and diesel.

When Hartsworm moved with his wife, Cyndi, to Melrose to take a supervisor job at Jennie-O, one of the first things he did was join the fire department as a volunteer. "Every dirty job that they had, I wanted to experience everything, so I did," he said. "We had some real nasty calls and stuff, but I wanted to be in the middle of it."

It was a warm, windy evening on May 3 when a large hay barn in Oak Township caught fire. Hartsworm was on one of the first Melrose fire trucks to arrive at the farm. The barn was already blazing.

He helped pour water onto the flames from a heavy hose for more than an hour. As they prepared to move the line, Hartsworm went back to his truck, hot and exhausted.

Saw barn coming down

After a rest and a drink, Hartsworm joined other firefighters who were taking off sheets of metal covering the old barn to get at the flames. He and two others prepared to enter the barn. The assistant chief told him to put on his air pack in case the wind shifted.

Hartsworm was about 20 feet into the barn when he grabbed a large sheet of metal and handed it outside. He reached for the next one, looked up and saw the south end of the barn coming down.

The next thing he knew, he was face down with fire all around him. He guesses he might have been knocked unconscious. He got on his knees and started crawling the way he had come in.

Outside, Hartsworm walked toward the truck. Another firefighter asked him what was wrong. I think I got hit by something, he said.

Hartsworm was put on a backboard and taken to the hospital. The paramedics checked his blood sugar, which was elevated. Hartsworm is a diabetic. But at the hospital, the doctor told him it was normal when someone has a lot of adrenaline and is dehydrated.

Hartsworm had a large knot on the back of his neck. He guesses he was hit by a falling beam or piece of debris, and that wearing his helmet and air pack saved his life.

Trouble is, sometimes he wishes they hadn't.

Hartsworm spent three days in the hospital and two more weeks at home, recovering. He suffered headaches and was sensitive to light.

Then he had to go back to work. The city's insurance company, the League of Minnesota Cities Insurance Trust, indicated it was going to deny Hartsworm's workers' compensation claim. The trust contended that Hartsworm's diabetes was the cause, not a workplace injury.

Meanwhile, Hartsworm was dealing with emotional fallout, including depression and listlessness. He said he felt he'd lost his soul.

"I woke up and all my joy was gone," Hartsworm said. "I was a very passionate person before this, at Jennie-O. … And I didn't care about any of it anymore."

Finally, Hartsworm's doctor sent him to a neurology clinic in the Twin Cities, where he was diagnosed with a mild traumatic brain injury.

He had nightmares: that he was trapped, burning, with no air to breathe, watching other firefighters get killed.

Hartsworm was put into a partial-hospitalization psychiatry program at St. Cloud Hospital, where he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He spent five weeks in the program.

"They literally saved my life," Hartsworm said. "They kept me focused, they taught me how to stay safe."

But the city's insurance trust informed him that it would not cover mental health treatment. The Hartsworms' finances were stretched.

Eventually, the insurance trust accepted Hartsworm's initial workers' compensation claim for the physical injuries. In August, the state Department of Labor and Industry ordered the trust to pay a $1,000 penalty for the denial.

Still, the trust continues to deny the claim for mental health treatment and lost wages. Hartsworm can't understand why his mental issues aren't considered a work-related injury.

"I fight for my life every day," he said. "This is as real as going into a fire every day for me."

'I want to get better'

Dave Ganfield, secretary of the Minnesota State Volunteer Firefighters Association, said that for many years, "volunteer firefighters were just considered exactly that — volunteers — and it was a question as to who really protected them if they were injured."

State laws have been changed to make it clear that volunteer firefighters are city employees and covered under workers' compensation for any injuries that occur during a fire call, Ganfield said.

Hartsworm kept quiet for a long time, not wanting to cause problems for the fire department or the city. He resisted hiring a lawyer, but finally did to try to recoup his medical expenses.

"I'm not suing anybody," he said. "I don't want any money. I'm not asking for anything. I just want my bills covered, and I want to get better."

Hartsworm's employer, Jennie-O, is now paying him disability. His therapist has helped him understand what triggers his PTSD — a fire alarm, driving past the fire station. "It just pains me to think that this could happen to somebody else," he said.