Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FIRE (08/04/22)
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TITLE: It Takes a Village to Buy a Red Chariot | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
08/11/22 -
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In the office where I worked, twenty miles over the border from my home in another state entirely, it was great fun for me to hear about the comical shenanigans of these local folks who were so intertwined in the fabric of that rural community.
Take for example the ongoing intense process brewing in the council meetings to figure out how to buy a fire truck. Their vintage one just wouldn’t start, or at least it fell apart in a rather dramatic way. I can’t remember the details of its demise.
A somewhat larger municipality a little way up the road with a growing census had a well-kept fire engine for sale. They had enough revenue to purchase a brand new one but agreed to bring the used one for inspection by the local chain of command before purchase.
My boss, a prominent member of the committee regaled us with Mayberry-ish moments that almost sounded made-up but weren’t. All the debate and search for the perfect emergency vehicle with sturdy water hoses and a siren that would work culminated in a charming image that still makes me smile all these years later.
As I remember, besides the mayor, doctor, police chief, mortuary owner, new editor, and possibly the pharmacist and feed store guy, there was a whole group of other supposedly entitled citizenry waiting with anticipation as if the Christmas parade were about to march down Main Street. In retrospect, I’m surprised there were no twirlers and drummers there, or at least none were mentioned in the personal, well-covered front-page story. Hopefully, a mechanic was in the excited bunch.
The next morning, our boss came in still chuckling over the big event. If it had been today, there would have been plenty of immediate pictures, but we had to rely on his humorous first-hand report.
Not only did the local volunteer firefighters take the big red engine for a spin, but everybody who was anybody, or had the slightest connection to anybody (or not) waited patiently for their turn. Round and round it went, up and down streets, by city hall, over by the railroad track and the old high school. Those men, young and old, had the time of their lives. I don’t know if fire helmets were involved, but surely at least one would have been unable to resist that temptation.
What was so touching to me, a mere youngster beginning a career, was having seen these men in and out of the office in grown-up suits and preoccupied expressions, talking business and acting like responsible guys the age of my father. On fire engine day, they were as excited as ten-year-olds.
It probably was a defining moment for some of them to indulge in pretense for a little while, fantasizing about the fun of being on such a magnificent and important vehicle as it rushed to rescue houses, barns, and people. Never mind the raw reality of danger, pain, exhaustion, and sadness.
That occasional slipping back to childhood playfulness seems to be part of human nature, a safety valve of sorts. It can be a welcome nod to mental health balance, a dash of relief from all the seriousness of daily grinds inherent in most lives.
The inevitable years and miles have flown by, and once in a while memories of those days come tumbling to the front of my mind. I can still picture that dear gaggle of delighted wanna-be firemen roaring around town with such fleeting importance.
It’s doubtful there are any left to recall the drama and humor surrounding the used Chariot of Fire test drive. Maybe their progeny have heard rumors or discovered an old, tattered newspaper picture in a trunk with a story about the day Grampa took a memorable ride around town. Perhaps he was the one wearing a red hat.
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Proverbs 17: 22 (MSG)
A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired.
*No women were involved, hence the reference to firemen, a term used by all in those days.
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Excellent [Black colour].