Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Ode to a Fireman


My husband was a volunteer fireman back in the 80's. He later joined our local fire department full time and became a paramedic. Until yesterday, these were all fond memories. But as I have been saying, unpacking every box has brought back a flood of memories that I thought were filed away until that day when my life flashed before my eyes. OK, I am an avid watcher of Prison Break and was very intrigued with Monday nights story line. But that is another post...or not!
As we open every single box that we managed to acquire over the 36 years of marriage, we found another delight, my husband's fire gear. During his tour of duty with the department, his assigned number was 808. There were many a call when I sat at home listening to his radio in hopes I never heard "808 is down". Believe me, it was nerve wracking.
Often, all of the wives would go to our local grocery store during a terrible fire or storm to get hot coffee and donuts for the fire fighters. It was the least we could do to support not only our men, but also the community.
I enjoyed the close knit community of fire fighters and their families. After all, we were transplants from Chicago and we needed to make friends down in the South. Up until we moved out of the county, I would often see a fellow retired fire fighter in the local K Mart or grocery store. We would share the details of how our families have grown...Johnny is in the navy...Ann is in college...Steve is in culinary school. Ahhh...the memories...I'll have them forever.
The photo op was the idea of my husband. The helmet was way too heavy for little Jack to wear, so hidden behind the pillow of our living room, one old fire fighter is acting as a prop for his little grandson. Even to this day, an old fireman supports those not able to do for themselves.


6 comments:

Erika said...

Love it!

Debra (a/k/a Doris, Mimi) said...

Beautiful post, Deb...and an adorable photo of Jack. He is growing so fast! Going through all the old boxes is kinda fun, isn't it? It's a little like Christmas when you come across a cherished keepsake and all the memories come flooding back. These are great stories to pass down to Jack for future generations when we are no longer here to tell the stories ourselves. Isn't that why we scrapbook? This would make a great layout!

Mental P Mama said...

I love unpacking boxes from a move. It is like a treasure hunt. And that shot is precious! Keeping my fingers crossed for you all today;)

Grandma J said...

What a beautiful post. Jack will make a great fireman!! My husband was a fireman from Los Angeles City. It's amazing the number of firemen and their families that stay in contact over the years. One of my son's best friennds is a fireman at the same station my husband worked at most of his career, and I gave him a ton of old pictures and records for their museum.

TSannie said...

Adorable photo and a lovely story memory.

Country Girl said...

Adorable photo, Deb! I'd have never known that someone was back there holding it up if you hadn't told us. I'll have boxes to unpack again when I move and all those memories will surely come flooding back!