Open House at the Fire Station

Truck Driver

If you look closely, you can see my son in the driver’s seat. He thought that was pretty cool. We think it’s pretty cool living only a few blocks from the fire station! In a small town it’s okay living that close to one because they don’t really go out enough to annoy you with the sirens. Visiting here yesterday reminded me of the volunteer fire department we had when I was growing up in Seward, Nebraska. I don’t remember the name of the program, but I was involved with something when I was very young where I got to respond to the fire station when the whistle blew and if you made it in time you could put on the gear and ride along to the fire. I can’t imagine anything like that being allowed nowadays. Lawsuit waiting to happen . .  Anyway, we had a good time here sans a little freak out on my part.



One of the firefighters told me that they had mostly red trucks, but then a few years ago they switched to yellow, but that they were going to try and get back to “the traditional”.

orange tanks


I sat down with Andrew for a little bit to distract him from what daddy was watching:




Yeah. If that wasn’t scary enough I decided to take a ride on the hook and ladder truck. I asked Andrew if he wanted to go and it’s a good thing he said no. He was freaked out enough just watching me go up.

going up


high up


Okay, at this point I admit I was getting pretty freaked out. And I am the type that goes on all the super-fast crazy rides at the amusement park. The dude operating this thing told me we were at 85 feet but that it went up to 105. . . I found myself asking him if we could “just go back down at 85”. But here is the view from 85 feet:

our town