Be Thankful For Firemen (And Equally Thankful That I’m Not One of Them)


We had a “3 alarm” fire here in town yesterday. It seemed that every fire truck within a 30-mile radius showed up to get a piece of the action.

Putting myself in the shoes of the firemen who work in the station just down the street from the fire made me think I might be a bit selfish. I think when I saw crews coming in from the outer perimeter of the area, I would have told them to go back home because “this is OUR fire and we got this. You go on back to your area and wait for a fire over there.”

This morning as I drove by a fire house where they were diligently cleaning the fire trucks, I wondered if they ever just wish there were maybe one or two “3-alarm” fires on a daily basis – or maybe even set their own blaze so they can have more chances to wet something down? Like maybe clearing out an old barn of all livestock, barn cats and mice and then torching it? I’m not saying that if I were a fireman that I would wish that, but I’m not saying I wouldn’t.

It’s probably lucky for our community that my career path didn’t lead to that of a firefighter. I don’t think there’s much room in that profession for a selfish guy who like to set things ablaze to ward off boredom.

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