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Winter’s Wistful Christmas Memories

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I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the way, the day after Thanksgiving became the day when Christmas trees are set up in homes and decorations are put out.

It also became the day when the Christmas shopping season “officially” started. It has been made very clear by the watchers of this day that has become known as “Black Friday” that our entire nation’s economy rests on this day. Never mind that many are still paying off last year’s Christmas!

How did this happen?

How did the holiday season become such a frenzied, pressure-packed observance-not for the birth of Jesus Christ-but of whether you’ll get this year’s hottest, must-have Christmas toy? This year, it is the Zhu-Zhu pet, by the way. Previous winners have been Singing Elmo, Tickle Me Elmo, Dancing Elmo and Elmo, Ellarry and Elcurley! Sheesh!

And where is Santa? At the malls? Nope!

Santa can be found at the pet stores having his picture taken with your favorite Schnauzer, Labrador, cat or boa constrictor.

In an exclusive interview with Santa, he told me that he would gladly put up with the poop, pee and vomit from the animals who act like animals than with the kids and parents who act like animals AND for better pay, apparently.

Santa further explains: “No one has time for me anymore. Shoppers don’t want to miss out on any Door Buster sales. Parents will drag their very unhappy kids along with threats of “no Play Station this year” for the chance to save another 40-50 percent on their next purchase. The kids who do come to see me only complain about what they didn’t get LAST YEAR! So; this is a nice change, dog breath and all!”

Remember; you heard it here. Santa prefers dog breath over baby’s breath!

Meanwhile, back to the days that were my youth, I remember that some years, we could not get a Christmas tree until they went on sale somewhere around December 22nd. Needless to say, panic was starting to settle in little me!

There were years when Mom and Dad would send us to the movies on Christmas Eve, so that they could shop for the discounted merchandise, get it home and wrap it before we got home from the movies. For years, I thought that they were very good at hiding our presents when in fact, they hadn’t bought them yet.

Christmas was always slim at my house. After all, I have seven sisters, so Mom and Dad had to be careful to equally distribute funds spent on presents for us, which wasn’t much, because Dad was making less than $100 a week and Mom wasn’t working at the time.

And I probably wouldn’t have gotten so upset, if I hadn’t seen the injustices perpetrated by my friends. They got ALL the hot toys and in later years, all the hot girls. To this day, I can barely look at them during our class reunions.

Seriously though; even back in the days of Ozzie and Harriet, Leave It To Beaver and Lassie, where wayward thinking was always reined in at the end of every TV episode, we were hung up on the “me” of Christmas and not the message.

And I DO suffer guilt for that, because as a kid, I only knew that I wanted “stuff” that I wasn’t getting from Mom and Dad (Santa) and I blamed them; something that I still regret.

The truth is that I had a GREAT childhood and Winter was a grand time to be a kid.

The neighborhood snowman contests, watching Dad and the other neighborhood men-Ted Ericson, Bob Overbaugh, Johnny Girven, Findley Jones, Elner Lundeen, Leo Windish, Harold Stephenson, Jimmy Girkin and Bob Baldwin-putting up the big candy canes that was Candy Cane Lane on NW 5th Avenue and then, taking a drive in our station wagon as a family of ten to see the Christmas decorations throughout Galva is a priceless memory.

At school, we would have snowball fights and build igloos at recess. The city had a skating rink prepared and maintained by Herb Rodgers and we would spend entire weekends there. When I got older, I played a lot of hockey there and would impress the girls with my ice skating skills. Yeah; I could skate backwards, spin and stop on a dime!

At church, we would put on the Christmas play and one year, I played one of the Wise Men, though I cannot remember if I carried gold, frankincense or mur, but it was probably mur. Our church youth group would go to the homes of our elders to sing Christmas carols for them and we would then go to Wasson Nursing Home. We would finish, go back to the church and have hot chocolate and cookies.

On many Sundays during the winter, we would travel to Bishop Hill to visit my aunt and uncle, where we would take our sleds and toboggans to Chilberg’s farm to sled down their big hill that ended at their pond. It was great!

Even in college, winter sports were still a big part of growing up. We would “borrow” the plastic food trays from the cafeteria, sit on them and would “sled” down the big hill outside of our dorm. They were very fast, could not be steered and the ride would often end with injury, but it was fun!

And do you know what?

I would gladly give up all of the “stuff” that I never got-and it’s a very, very long list-just to go back and do it all over again.

What I came to realize is that the greatest gifts of the season are not wrapped and under a tree!

I want to wish my family and friends much love and joy during this holiday season, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

TCSS.

 Art “ChiefReason” Goodrich

This article is protected by federal copyright laws and cannot be re-produced in any form without the expressed written permission of the owner-Art Goodrich aka ChiefReason.

Posted by chiefreason on December 14, 2009 • Filed under: Christmas Stories • Tagged: , , , , , ,

Christmas…With a Twist!

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Charlie Blackledge was a member of his volunteer fire department.

 

He was a perfect fit, because he was around during the day. That also propelled him through certified firefighter classes that would find career firefighters usually filling a class roster.

 

Charlie’s availability during the day wasn’t by choice; that is to say that Charlie had trouble finding work, then keeping the job. He had dropped out of high school during his sophomore year, but went back after he was married and got his GED. It was a very proud day for him.

 

But, Charlie lived in a small, rural town some thirty minutes from the “big city”, where the big jobs were. The few, good jobs that he was able to land, he eventually lost, because he didn’t have good, dependable transportation. Because of his financial condition, he had to buy fifty dollar cars and fix them up and then keep them running. He would eventually be fired for missing work.

 

So, Charlie would take any work that the good people in his village would offer him. Hard work was no problem to Charlie. He didn’t drink or smoke; most likely because he couldn’t afford to.

 

His wife, Diana wanted to help out, but couldn’t, because, as a young nurses’ aide, she had ruptured two discs in her lower back while working in the county nursing home. Severe arthritis prevented her from working, but she would occasionally babysit for other working parents.

 

Charlie was the only certified firefighter on his department. He took great pride in knowing that it wasn’t easy to become a certified firefighter. It was “atonement” for his dropping out of school. He might well have become a career firefighter had he thought of it at an earlier age.

 

But, he was 35 years old with a wife and two, small children, so he had pretty much shut that window of opportunity.

 

And besides; his department had paid for his training, so he owed it to them to use it for his department. He was their captain and training officer. He took them both very seriously.

 

Many of the houses in his village were older, two-story, balloon frame style. Charlie had heard all of the horror stories, had been to several acquired structure, live fire drills, where they were set on fire so that they could study the fire’s behavior. They would also do “light and fights”, so Charlie was well versed in tactics.

 

The Christmas season was upon them and it was going to be another lean Christmas in the Blackledge house. The fire department always had a party at the station for the area kids, ending with a visit from Santa.

 

It was looking like the only gifts that Bobby and Amy Blackledge would get this year would come from “Firefighter Santa”. Some of Charlie’s guys wanted to do more, but Charlie didn’t want hand outs.

 

On the other hand, he wanted his family to have a nice Christmas. He was still trying to save up a few dollars from his odd jobs to buy Christmas dinner and a few gifts, but the car needed new tires and a new heater core. He wasn’t sleeping well, to say the least.

 

It was Monday, December 21st and Charlie was spending the day shoveling sidewalks and driveways for his villagers. He wouldn’t ask for money, but everyone was paying him something for his efforts.

 

He had found a set of tires that could be mounted and balanced for $120. The heater core was $100 installed. He was still $40 short, so the gas station was willing to let Charlie change out the tires for the difference.

 

Perfect; except that he had no money left for Christmas presents. His wife, Diana was OK with it, but he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his kids without presents on Christmas morning. He hoped that Bobby and Amy would understand.

 

Just as Charlie got home from a long day with the snow shovel, the town siren went off. He kissed Diana, told Bobby and Amy that he loved them and bolted out the door to his car. He could already see smoke filling the sky.

 

Charlie got to the station, threw on his gear and jumped into the captain’s seat of their engine. The fire was at Emma Snodgrass’ house. It was an older, but very nice Victorian that sat on the village’s east edge. Emma’s Ford Focus was in the driveway, but Emma was no where to be found.

 

Fire was already pushing out of an upstairs’ window. Charlie was worried that Emma was still inside, so he told his crew to set up for water, but he was going in to do a quick, primary search.

 

He got to the front porch and looked through the window. It was smoky, but no fire, so he opened the door and headed to the stairway. His BA mask was fogging up, but he turned on his flush valve briefly to clear it.

 

He was yelling for Emma, but was getting no answer. He got to the bedroom and it was on fire. He got down on his belly, but didn’t see anyone. He continued down the hallway and opened a door. It was the bathroom.

 

At first, he didn’t see anyone, but when he threw back the shower curtain, he found Emma fully clothed and barely conscious in the bathtub.

 

Charlie picked her up and carried her in his arms back to the top of the stairway. There, he put her over his shoulders and carried her down the stairs and out the front door. He asked her if she was the only one and she whispered, “My pets; my babies”.

 

By now, the fire was through the roof and Charlie could see that he could not go back upstairs. Emma was pointing to the back of her house. Charlie ran to the back and saw the back door that led into the kitchen. On the floor, he could see a pet crate. The door was locked, so Charlie took his elbow and broke out the window. He reached in and unlocked the door.

 

As he entered the kitchen, he could feel the mist and steam from water now being applied to the fire. He grabbed the pet crate and took it outside to the backyard. He radioed his crew that he was outside.

 

Charlie bent down and looked into the crate at two, little critters. He took off his helmet, mask and gloves and reached in, suffering a bite. He pulled out his hand that had a kitten attached to it. It was black from soot, wearing a pink collar with a little bell on it and was very agitated. He stuck her in his coat; mistake #2!

 

Then, he looked back into the crate to see a little golden retriever puppy. The puppy was whimpering as Charlie pulled him out. Charlie held him to his neck, talking softly to him and the puppy started licking him on his chin. Charlie almost cried, but the kitten reminded him that she was still inside his coat!

 

When he got back to the front of the house with both pets safe and sound, Emma was already on her way to the hospital. Charlie would care for her pets until she got out of the hospital.

 

Charlie got back to the station and after he stowed his gear, he thought that he should clean up the puppy and kitten, so he took them to the utility sink. The puppy loved his bath. The kitten was an ultimate fighter, but Charlie won out in the end.

 

As Charlie was drying the kitten, the chief came over and told Charlie that Emma didn’t make it. Charlie collapsed into a chair.

 

“How could that be? She was talking to me”, said Charlie.

 

“She was 80 years old and I guess the stress was too much for her heart”, said Chief.

 

“What about her puppy and kitten?” asked Charlie.

 

“Can you take them for the time being? I’ll run to the store and get them some food”, said Chief.

 

“Sure thing. I just hope the kids don’t get too attached to them, you know?” said Charlie.

 

As Charlie drove home, he was saddened that his efforts didn’t give Emma a second chance in her late life, happy that, at least for a while, the critters would take his kids’ minds off of what would be a dismal Christmas, concerned that, when it came time to give the pets to Emma’s relatives, there would be heartache and most of all, Charlie was questioning how all of this would play out in the end.

 

As soon as Charlie walked through the door carrying the two little critters, Bobby and Amy were screaming with excitement. Bobby grabbed the puppy and Amy took the kitten. Christmas had come early!

 

Charlie stared at the floor. Diana was standing there, speechless. She was looking at Charlie with her mouth open. She could see tears trickling down Charlie’s cheeks. Diana grabbed him around his shoulders, put her head on his chest and softly said, “Tell me about it after we put the kids to bed”.

 

Charlie and Diana were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee after the kids had FINALLY settled down enough to go to bed; Bobby with the puppy and Amy with the kitten.

 

Charlie told Diana everything; well, almost everything. Diana was worried about the kids and when the pets would be taken. Charlie said that he would try to explain it to them tomorrow after he did an equipment check at the fire station. Diana was going to bed. Charlie wanted to stay up for awhile. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

 

On Tuesday, December 22nd, Charlie got to the station and was in the truck bay, making sure that the hose was loaded right. He double-checked the SCBAs and checked all of the compartments for tools. The guys were very good at getting ready for the next one, but Charlie liked to make sure-just to BE sure!

 

As he was coming around the front of the truck, he almost jumped out of his skin! A man in a long, wool coat was standing there. He asked, “Are you the fireman that rescued Emma’s pets from the fire?”

 

“Yes, sir, I am, but who are you; her son?” asked Charlie.

 

“No; Emma didn’t have any family; only her pets. I am her attorney”.

 

“So, do you want me to go and get the puppy and kitten for you?” asked Charlie.

 

“Do you have children, Charlie?” asked the attorney.

 

“Yes, I do; a boy, Bobby, who is seven and a girl, Amy, who is six”, said Charlie.

 

“You’re a blessed man, Charlie. Do you have any pets?” asked the attorney.

 

“No, but the kids went crazy when I brought the puppy and kitten home last night. They thought that they were Christmas presents and I couldn’t tell them the truth. But, I was hoping to give them back to Emma…” said Charlie, his voice quivering and trailing off.

 

“That’s why I’m here, Charlie. Emma wanted to be sure that, if anything should happen to her, she wanted her pets taken care of and loved as much as she loved them. I think your kids would love them, don’t you Charlie?” asked the attorney.

 

“Sir, if you could have been there last night and seen the joy in them two; you can’t imagine how happy it made me for a moment. I was sad to think that it was going to be taken from them”, said Charlie.

 

“Would you take Emma’s pets then? I know that she would want you to”, said the attorney.

 

“I would be honored to, sir”, said Charlie.

 

With that, the attorney handed Charlie an envelope.

 

“What’s this?” asked Charlie.

 

“It is a savings account set up at the bank for their continued care. It is designated for food, veterinary services and incidentals for the rest of their lives”, said the attorney.

 

“I wouldn’t feel right doing that. I should…” Charlie was cut off in mid-sentence.

 

“You don’t understand, Charlie. Emma set it up this way and that’s the way that it has to be”, said the attorney.

 

So, reluctantly, Charlie put the envelope in his pocket without looking at it.

 

“This envelope is for the care-givers as a show of appreciation from Emma. A like amount is going to the local “no kill” animal shelter. I know you were the one who rescued Emma and though she couldn’t thank you, I am overwhelmed and humbled by your act of bravery and am grateful that people like you are willing to risk your lives for your fellow Man. Please accept this on Emma’s behalf”, said the attorney.

 

“I don’t do it for money or recognition. If that is Emma’s wishes, then I humbly accept, but I don’t think I deserve it. Could I give some of it to my fire department and church?” asked Charlie.

 

“Sure; Emma would like that”, said the attorney.

 

Then, he left after firmly shaking Charlie’s hand. Charlie could tell from the look in his eyes that he was struggling with the loss of his client and friend.

 

Charlie put the second envelope with the first and left for home. He was shaking like a leaf the entire way. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before and it felt very strange.

 

Is it a dream? It can’t be. I haven’t been to sleep! Is it my imagination? It can’t be. No one could ever imagine something like this!

 

Charlie walked into the house to see his kids playing with “their” pets. He went to the kitchen, where Diana was finishing dishes. Charlie got a cup of coffee and sat there, staring at his cup.

 

“Is something wrong, honey?” asked Diana.

 

“I’m not sure”, said Charlie.

 

“What is it, then?” asked Diana.

 

Charlie reached into his back pocket and pulled out the two envelopes.

 

“Is it bad news? Should I open them? Will I be mad?” asked Diana.

 

“Only way to find out is to open them”, said Charlie.

 

“Open that one first”, said Charlie.

 

“It’s a savings account book to the bank”, said Diana.

 

“How much is in it?” asked Charlie.

 

“Seventy-five THOUSAND dollars?” exclaimed Diana.

 

“Dang; Emma wants us to take REAL good care of the puppy and kitten”, said Charlie.

 

“Charlie…” said Diana.

 

“I’ll tell you the story after you open the other envelope”, said Charlie.

 

Now, Diana was shaking and could barely open the envelope and take out the cashier’s check. She froze.

 

“Charlie; this isn’t some kind of a joke, is it?” asked Diana.

 

Charlie looked at her and asked, “What’s it say?”

 

Diana was speechless. She simply turned the check around to where Charlie could read it. Charlie took in a big breath, closed his eyes and started to sob. Diana couldn’t hold the check up any longer.

 

Charlie reached for her hand and Diana leaped into Charlie’s lap. Charlie asked her, “Do we deserve this? Is this kind of stuff supposed to happen to people like us?”

 

“Charlie Blackledge! I don’t know what “kind of people” you think we ARE, but I know that you’re a kind and caring man, who loves his family very much. You would give the shirt off your back to a total stranger, you think the world of your fire department, you have almost single-handedly kept our church from collapsing into a pile of bricks and YOU have to ASK if it’s wrong to accept an act of kindness? I swear, Charlie, I have a good mind to smack you a good one”, said Diana.

 

“I’m just afraid that it will change us”, worries Charlie.

 

“It won’t change WHO we are, but it will certainly change the WAY we are, but either way; WE control it”, offers Diana.

 

“I don’t deserve you”, says Charlie.

 

Posted by chiefreason on January 12, 2009 • Filed under: Christmas Stories • Tagged: , , , , , ,

A Snapshot of Christmas, 1958

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I started a discussion a few weeks ago and I asked, “If you could have just one thing for Christmas, what would it be?”

 

I never told anyone what I wanted…until now.

 

The one thing that I want is for every one of us to give to someone else.

 

My reason is simple: I believe that we have gotten so involved with managing our own lives around our jobs and families and are worrying about the state of the economy, the two wars, the price of fuel, the scandals and the dysfunction of governments at the local, state and federal levels that we have forgotten about those less fortunate.

 

It is true that some choose to live their lives content to have food, clothing and a place to live and nothing more. Living day to day can be just as complicated as managing a portfolio of investments for some. They are proud people who refuse to take help.

 

Then, there are those who, through no fault of their own, battle Life to a draw every day, can’t catch a break and watch as many others enjoy the American Dream. They apply for assistance, hoping to use it as a bridge to a better life. And without regard for their current state of affairs, they volunteer to help others.

 

I have such a deep admiration for these people, because when I look at them, I see my mom and dad.

 

Mom and Dad fell into that category of “too proud to take help”. When I was young, the local chapter of the Lions Club thought that they would brighten our holidays by giving us a Christmas basket full of all kinds of goodies. My parents were very offended and angered by this gesture of good will! They refused the basket, much to the disappointment of me and my sisters. It is a lesson in human behavior that I will never forget!

 

I wish that I could roll back the calendar to 1958. It was on this Christmas that I didn’t get anything on my Santa’s list. I was six years old and didn’t know that we were poor. I must have missed that meeting. At least, no one had bothered to tell me that times were tough and Dad had to spend all of the money that he made to feed us, keep clothes on us and to keep the house warm.

 

I remember that, on some days, Mom would light the oven, open up the oven door for more heat, because we couldn’t afford more coal to heat the house.

 

But Christmas, 1958; there I am in the picture with my sisters, my arms crossed, my lower lip jutted out and I am pouting, because I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas.

 

I want to believe that I was too young to understand family finance. I felt like Old Santa had given me a swift kick in the butt, because Mom and Dad had told him that I had been a bad boy that year. I was SIX! I had issues, OK?

 

When I think of the families who can’t share the joy of the holidays, because they don’t have the means, it tears me up inside.

 

That’s not to say that they have to believe in Santa Claus, but they have to believe that, at least one time of the year, they can be blessed with the generosity of a caring and giving community.

 

Many of us talk about how intrusive Government has become. We can recite all of the social programs that Big Government provides, but Government doesn’t have the HEART that harbors compassion. THAT heart beats within our own communities. That is your heart and mine! WE are what give a community its identity-its soul!

 

How many fires have we responded to over the years that were caused by space heaters and candles; used because the occupants couldn’t afford to heat their place any other way?

 

How many kids have we seen in skimpy jackets and no mittens to warm their hands?

 

How many of us have heard children crying because they can’t have that ONE thing that they want for Christmas?

 

How many of us understand that this can also be the cruelest time of year?

 

And we can’t forget the elderly either, because they have become “orphans” in our society, too. They have no family and no reason to “celebrate” the holidays.

 

So, for the young ones, it might take a material good to brighten their holidays. Maybe just a used winter coat and a pair of mittens.

 

And for others, it might take just a kind gesture of a warm meal and some Christmas cookies would be all that they need to restore their faith in human kind.

 

I have given more this year than ever before; not because I can, but because I want to.

 

That picture from 1958 reminds me that: it shouldn’t be about how I feel, but what I feel for others.

 

In the words of my dad when he gave back the Christmas basket: “give it to someone who NEEDS it”.

 

Experience the true joy of the holidays by giving.

 

And have a safe and happy holiday season.

 

Merry Christmas.

 

God bless you all.

 

TCSS.

Posted by chiefreason on January 12, 2009 • Filed under: Christmas Stories • Tagged: , , , , , , , ,

An Accidental Christmas©

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First Published 12/14/05

 

Rascal was a ten-month old, mixed breed puppy. The story goes that he was part Yellow Labrador, Terrier and Dalmatian.

 

And it was the “part Dalmatian” that found Rascal wanting to be a fire dog. Unfortunately, the only spot he had on his tan-colored coat was around his right eye.

 

Not enough spots to get me a ride on a fire truck laments Rascal.

 

Rascal had his dream and his dream was about all he had. He was orphaned and homeless. That’s to say that his home was wherever he could find scraps of food and bed was often in a culvert or a box thrown in an alley.

 

Rascal had a tough time trusting anyone. After all, he was very young when a guy threw him into a ditch from a moving car. By the time Rascal came to a stop, his entire body was badly bruised and his right, front leg was broken. He lay there in pain, afraid to cry out, because he didn’t want some wild animal to find him. He had heard stories about monsters from the woods feeding on small, defenseless animals and Rascal didn’t want to find out if those stories were true or not.

 

Rascal never got to know his family. Just barely old enough to have his eyes open, he remembers being grabbed by the back of his neck and put into a bag; never to see his mom again. He believed with all of his heart that his mom never had a choice. And if he ever got to see her again, he would tell her that he didn’t blame her. He thought about her often. He even worried about her. After all, she was living with the man who threw him out of a moving car, like he was a cigarette butt. He worried that his mom was being mistreated or worse.

 

But he was on his own. He had to stay sharp. He had to avoid the pitfalls, the traps and the many dangers in his solitary world.

 

It was December 24th-Christmas Eve. It was just another day for Rascal. Christmas Eve held no significance to Rascal. He was cold and hungry…and looking for food.

 

Rascal always felt badly after he ate. Not because the food made him sick, but because he thought he was stealing. It’s true that what he was able to scrounge was thrown out by someone, but he felt it didn’t belong to him. He would grab it and run, if he saw someone coming. He felt guilty, but his tummy felt better!

 

Rascal had no concept of Christmas or the holiday season, although traffic seemed heavier than usual.

 

Rascal was walking along the highway when he noticed a restaurant on the other side. Ah; he would take up temporary residence there and enjoy several days’ worth of meals.

 

As he waited for the traffic to clear, he couldn’t stop thinking about the tasty morsels on the other side of the road.

 

Wait, wait, wait; just one more car and then I can eat.

 

Rascal slipped on a patch of ice as he started to cross the road. He thought he could still make it, so he continued. No problem with the first lane and then BOOM! Rascal doesn’t even remember it.

 

By the time Rascal came to, it was getting dark. And there was someone standing over him. He couldn’t move, so he growled. The guy jumped back, fearing that he would be bitten. He ran back to his car and left.

 

It was starting to snow.

 

Great; I’m going to be buried under snow and die and no one will know until spring.

 

The snow was deep in the ditch and Rascal was having trouble feeling his back legs. He had to get out of the cold or surely, he would die. Rascal started pulling himself with his front legs. He was cold, hurt, hungry, lonely, but mostly; he was determined to live!

 

It was dark now and the fire truck was returning to quarters with its crew; ELTee, Cap, Johnny and Walt. ELTee caught something out of the corner of his eye, as he piloted the big engine down the road.

 

“Did anyone else see that?” he asked.

 

“See what?” asks Cap.

 

“I thought I saw somethin’ laying in the ditch. Mind if we go back and take a look, Cap?” asks ELTee.

 

Naw; we got time. Go check it out”, says Cap.

 

ELTee pulls into the parking lot to turn around. They got back to the restaurant and parked the rig. ELTee and Cap walk over to the ditch and see an injured puppy almost completely covered with snow. ELTee and Cap thought he was dead, until Rascal let out a moan.

 

“Look at that, Cap. Little fella is still alive. Let’s take him back to the rig”, says ELTee.

 

“Careful, Tee. He doesn’t act very friendly”, says Cap.

 

“Ah; he’s just hurt and scared”, says ELTee.

 

Bullshit; I’m cold and hungry thought Rascal.

 

As they pick up Rascal, he lets out a cry, because of his pain. But he’s also glad that someone found him.

 

They get him back to the truck and Johnny and Walt wrap him in a fire coat. Rascal was still shivering, but the coat was warm and it felt so good. Johnny had a bottle of water and poured some into his cupped hand and held it to Rascal’s mouth.

 

Hey; this water tastes good. Not like the stuff I get from the potholes thought Rascal.

 

The firefighters are showing Rascal a lot of attention. Rascal doesn’t quite know what to make of it, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He hasn’t trusted anyone since the day he was tossed out the car. He figures they’ll drop him off at the animal shelter, because they won’t have time for him.

 

But it was soooo cool. I’m finally riding in a fire truck! thought Rascal.

 

Back at the station, ELTee got on the phone. His sister was a small animal veterinarian in town and ELTee knew his sister was over at his house, celebrating Christmas Eve with his wife and kids.

 

“Lisa? It’s Paul. Can you come down to the station and look at a pup that got hit by a car?” asks ELTee.

 

“How bad is he, Paul?” asks Lisa.

 

“He isn’t moving much, but he’s conscious and somewhat alert. He’s not bleeding from his nose or mouth. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” asks ELTee.

 

“I won’t know for sure till I get there. I have to swing by the office and grab some things. I should be there in about 20 minutes”, says Lisa.

 

“What should we do in the meantime?” asks ELTee.

 

“Just keep him quiet and warm, Paul”, says Lisa.

 

Johnny and Walt were in the storage room, getting a wooden crate. They found an old pillow and put that in the crate, along with a blanket. ELTee carefully placed Rascal in the “bed”.

 

Man, this is one, sweet crib Rascal thought to himself.

 

Why are these people being so nice to me? If I could have, I probably would have bitten them, but I didn’t know them or what they were doing. They act like they care about me. These creatures are definitely strange thought Rascal.

 

Rascal wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but he was afraid that he wouldn’t wake up again. He HAD to stay awake until the vet got there. He didn’t want to die. He liked the guys who found him and he wanted to show them his gratitude. Rascal also noticed that there wasn’t another dog around; strange, considering that he had always heard that ALL fire stations had a fire dog.

 

Lisa finally got there and immediately started assessing Rascal’s injuries. Rascal’s pelvis was broken and his organs were pretty bruised, but other than that, he was a little malnourished.

 

Lisa wanted to take Rascal to her clinic, but Rascal didn’t want to go. When ELTee reached into the crate to pick him up, he clung to Tee like Velcro and he was crying. ELTee asked Lisa if he could keep the pup there at the station. Lisa gave ELTee some medication for Rascal and instructions for treating his fractured pelvis and gave Rascal a pat on the head for re-assurance. Rascal was grateful and licked her hand.

 

“You’re probably hungry, aren’t you, little fella?” asks ELTee.

 

ELTee goes into the kitchen. Cap is standing there drinking coffee and asks ELTee how the pup was doing.

 

“He’s going to be OK. I thought I’d grab him a little something to eat”, says Tee.

 

“Why don’t you give him some of that leftover roast beef?” asks Cap.

 

“Good idea; I don’t think anyone will mind”, says ELTee.

 

Tee takes a plate full of the beef over to Rascal’s bed and hands him a piece.

 

You got to be kiddin’. Roast beef? For me? I think I’m going to cry” thinks Rascal.

 

Rascal was inhaling the meat. He thought he was going to burst.

 

“You sure are hungry, aren’t you?” says ELTee.

 

“I wonder if you have a name. I can’t keep calling you ‘fella’ or ‘pup’. You sure are a cute, little rascal”, says ELTee.

 

“That’s it; I’ll call you ‘Rascal’,” says Tee.

 

How did he know my NAME? wonders Rascal.

 

I always knew that firefighters had superpowers for putting out fires, but reading minds? ponders Rascal.

 

It was about 11:30 pm on Christmas Eve and ELTee was getting ready for bunk time. Rascal was getting anxious. He didn’t want to be left alone. He didn’t want to be alone ever again. This felt too good. It felt like a dream. He couldn’t believe that people could be this good hearted.

 

ELTee finished up in the kitchen and Rascal could see him coming. Tee stopped and grabbed the crate.

 

“Come on, Rascal. You’re going to bunk with me. I hope you don’t mind, but I snore”, ELTee says with a grin.

 

Hey; no problem, ELTee. I fart in my sleep. You can blame it on the dog thinks Rascal.

 

“Well, in a few more minutes, it will be Christmas Day, little fella. You’re our little Christmas ‘miracle’ and the other guys are going to be so excited to see you later today. Our station house dog died a month ago. You’re the perfect replacement. You’re one tough, little sumbitch and will make a great fire dog for our station”, says ELTee.

 

Is my tail wagging? I can’t feel it. I’m wetting myself, ain’t I? I’m so excited. I’m going to be a FIRE DOG; an honest-to-God, smoke sniffing canine. I don’t mean to cry. I don’t know what to say, except that I won’t let you down.

 

“It’s midnight, Rascal. Merry Christmas. See you in the morning”, says ELTee, as he rubs Rascal’s head.

 

If this feeling that I have right now is the spirit of Christmas, then I want to feel like this EVERY DAY and I want everyone else to feel this way, too! Rascal thinks.

 

Merry Christmas…from one fire dog to another!

 

Art

 

The article submitted is a fictional account of events-real or imagined. Any similarities to the people, places or situations portrayed are purely coincidental. The article as submitted is published under The Adventures of Jake and Vinnie© umbrella and is the intellectual property of Art Goodrich a.k.a. xchief22 and ChiefReason. It is protected by federal copyright laws and cannot be re-printed in any form without expressed permission from the author.

 

 

Posted by chiefreason on January 11, 2009 • Filed under: Christmas Stories • Tagged: , , , , ,

Santa Wears An SCBA©

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First Published 11/25/07

 

It was 10:00 pm on Christmas Eve.

 

Colt and Jessie had put the kids to bed and were watching the news. They wanted to be sure that Brandon and Kylee were sound asleep, before they put the Christmas presents under the tree.

 

Jessie was nervous about whether or not the kids would be happy with their presents, although, both had submitted a list to Santa. Colt was re-assuring her when his fire department pager went off.

 

As he was putting on his shoes and coat, he was telling Jessie that it probably wasn’t serious and that he shouldn’t be too long.

 

Colt had been on his fire department for 8 years and had risen to the rank of captain. He was certified FF II, Officer II, Instructor I and Technical Rescue Operations. He worked with a very dedicated group of volunteers who trained hard, but like most small departments, they did not see many structural fires that would “test” their skills.

 

But on Christmas Eve, they would be put to the test.

 

Colt got to the station, unlocked the door, turned on the lights and raised the bay doors. As he was getting his gear on, he heard over the radio that they had a structural fire with smoke showing. Dispatch said that the family was out of the house and that mutual aid and ambulance had already been dispatched. Colt breathed a sigh of relief!

 

By now, Colt had his engine crew and he was snuggled into his captain’s seat, putting on his hood and SCBA as they pulled out and headed to the scene. He grabbed the TI camera and slung the strap over his head.

 

On a room and contents fire, Colt liked to enter on the affected side, take out a window or two (depending on wind conditions) to vent, throw short bursts at the ceiling to cool it down a bit and go straight to the seat of the fire.

 

If there was already fire extension, though, he liked to enter from the unaffected side and push it back to the room of origin. Colt and his crew had practiced the tactic many times in live burn training and had confidence in its results.

 

Colt’s adrenaline was charged and he was anxious to see what was in store for them.

 

As they rounded the corner, he could see heavy smoke pushing out from the front door and fire was blowing out the window on the “A” side of the structure. He keyed his radio, told the chief what he saw and asked to go straight to the house. They would work off of tank water. Engine 2 would hook the hydrant and provide the water supply. Engine 2 would be RIT until mutual aid arrived. The chief knew that Colt wanted to go for the quick knock down and gave the “10-4”.

 

As Colt and his crew exited the truck, Colt could see a mother and two little girls. He knew them-hell, he knew everybody-and they were screaming “Phil is inside; Daddy’s inside”. They were frantic.

 

Colt’s mind was going a mile a minute. He knew that, if they went in blasting water, it might blacken it down to where finding Phil would be difficult, if not impossible. Rescue-not recovery was all that he could think of, but he also knew that he had to keep his crew safe. He had to get to the front door to get a better look.

 

Colt got down on his stomach and looked in the door and could see that an inversion had not yet occurred. He told his guys on the hose to go just inside the door and wait for his command to open the nozzle. Colt was going to do a primary search of the room. It would be quick, down and dirty.

 

Colt was scanning the right side of the room with the TI camera. NOTHING! He got to the north wall, turned left and saw a figure on the floor near the opposite wall. He radioed that he had something and to be ready with water.

 

As Colt crawled towards the wall, he could feel the heat through his bunkers. He got to his victim, took out the piece of rope that he kept in his pocket, looped it under the shoulders and over the arms and started dragging the limp body towards the door.

 

As soon as his hose team saw him, they opened the nozzle and let ‘er rip!

 

Colt was met at the door by paramedics and they immediately went to work on the victim. Colt felt like he was on fire! As soon as he got off of the porch, he took off his helmet, ripped his SCBA mask off, flung off his gloves, took the camera from his neck, unzipped then threw off his coat and plopped down on his BA bottle.

 

It was 20 degrees out, but Colt wasn’t cold. The cold air felt good! As he sat there watching the activities, a fire explorer came up and handed him a bottle of water.

 

Colt said, “Thanks; you’re a life-saver”.

 

The explorer replied, “You got steam comin’ off you”.

 

Colt shot down some water and splashed a little in his face. He was looking towards the truck, but felt that someone was looking at him. He turned back around and little Emily was standing there looking at him.

 

“Thank you for giving my daddy back to me,” she said.

 

And with that, she threw her arms around Colt’s neck and hung on for dear life!

 

Colt put his big arms around her and softly said, “You’re welcome”.

 

By now, Julie, the mother and her other daughter, Lisa, had come over to Colt and given him a hug and their thanks. With them was a big yellow Labrador and Colt asked, “Who’s this?”

 

Julie replied, “Who is what Phil went back in for. He didn’t see him come out, couldn’t stand the thought of him dying in the fire, so he went back in for him.”

 

“They are loading Phil into the ambulance. Do you have a ride to the hospital?” asked Colt.

 

“Yes; thank you. My mom and dad are driving me and the girls,” replied Julie.

 

Colt got up, put on his coat and helmet and helped get the hose back onto the truck. When they got back to the station, the other guys were pumped up and wanted to hang out and talk about the fire. Everyone was slapping Colt on the shoulder and high-fiving him, but all’s Colt wanted to do was to go home to Jessie and the kids.

 

It was 2:30 am Christmas Day when Colt drove into the driveway. Thinking that Jessie was already in bed, he tried to sneak in as he opened the door.

 

He looked at the Christmas tree and saw that Jessie had put the presents under it.

 

Damn; I like being Santa Claus, thought Colt.

 

From the lights of the tree, Colt could see Jessie sitting on the couch, so he walked over to her.

 

“How’d it go?” asked Jessie.

 

“Textbook,” replied Colt.

 

“Which textbook?” asked Jessie.

 

“Ummmmm…” Colt hesitated.

 

“Colt; I heard the whole thing on the scanner,” said Jessie.

 

Tears started to well up in Colt’s eyes as he said, “Jessie; I had to do it. I couldn’t…” His voice trailed off.

 

Jessie jumped up and put her arms around him, buried her head in his neck and they both started to cry.

 

“I never want anything to ever happen to you,” cried Jessie.

 

“I wouldn’t do that to you and the kids,” Colt said re-assuringly.

 

“Kids need their Santa Claus,” said Jessie.

 

“Right now, I probably smell like a reindeer,” Colt offered.

 

“Yeah; you need a shower…BAD! Exclaimed Jessie.

 

Post Script

 

Julie, Emily and Lisa would spend Christmas at the hospital, where doctors said that Phil would make a complete recovery from his burns and smoke inhalation.

 

Family, neighbors and friends, many of them firefighters and their families, were already taking food and presents to the hospital. It was going to be a joyous Christmas after all!

 

From my family to your’s: Please enjoy a safe and joyous holiday season and take a moment to remember our brothers/sisters, soldiers and the less fortunate.

 

Happy Holidays

 

Santa Wears An SCBA is pure fiction. Any similarities to the people, places or situations portrayed are purely coincidental. Santa Wears An SCBA is the intellectual property of Art Goodrich a.k.a. ChiefReason and xchief22. It cannot be re-printed in any form without expressed permission.

Posted by chiefreason on January 11, 2009 • Filed under: Christmas Stories • Tagged: , , , , ,