Last week and the second time in my life I saw fire engines respond to a real fire in an unmarked truck on the corner of Mt Vernon and Joy. The BFD wisely followed Colin Powell’s dictum to always come with overwhelming force when facing a threat. The fire never had a chance.
I think the truck's owner freaked out when he got back to his truck and found the windows broken and his supplies destroyed by water. I felt sorry for him.
Oh, yes. The first time I saw fire engines arrive was when I was four; I spotted some matches on a rock in Mrs. Tuohey’s back yard. The temptation was overwhelming; the thought of consequences non-existent. I started a brush fire that brought several fire engines screaming to the scene. How I loved the sight and the sounds! I didn’t love what came next when I was face to face with a very tall and very pissed off Fire Chief. My mother gave me up but my older sister, Mary, who was seven, pleaded in tear filled terms for a pardon. Who knows what my life would have been without Mary’s intervention. She’s still my favorite sib.
