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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Action
- Published: 10/15/2017
“I Kid You Not!”
by Herm Sherwood-Sitts
It was just a regular summer day, like any other day. Us boy’s were hanging out in front of the Country Store trying to decide if we wanted to play football, baseball or shoot baskets. I was sitting on my bike; the others were on the bench when Lisa and Rey Beth came outta’ the store. Dana (The leader of our gang) said some wise crack and Lisa’s reply was “Shut up Wratten!” We all laughed at Dana, and the girls headed up the street.
Shortly after that, the fire whistle blew. About when the siren reached its third peak, my dad’s truck came flying down the hill like a rocket. When he shifted into second to make the corner, the tires were squealing and pebbles were flying. He never stopped for the intersection, which didn’t surprise us much. (Dad was a great driver, but his total disregard for traffic laws was a well known in these here parts.) We watched in amazement as he sped down the street towards the firehouse.
“Holey Shit! Partridge” Dana giggled. We all started laughing.
Like any young boy; my dad was my hero. So I started pedaling my bike towards the firehouse, hoping to see my hero in action.
When I got down the street a ways, I could see smoke. As I got closer I could see a fairly large grass fire in the field behind the houses on the left.
Our volunteer fire department was made up of a diverse group of men. Some were farmers, welders, loggers, truck drivers, professors and business men. This is way before Insurance and state mandates ruined helping one another, forcing many small fire departments to close.
I watched with excitement as they came rolling in from all directions. They each knew their part as a crew and in no time flat they were on the scene of the fire. I think at the time we only had two fire truck’s and an old panel truck from the 50’s.
Some men were using back sprayers while others were filling trucks at the river.
All of a sudden I see Dad driving like hell through the flames with that old panel truck. I was really concerned that the gas tank might catch on fire.
After quite a few passes he returned to the firehouse.
“Dad! Why are you driving through the flames?” I questioned.
I Kid You Not! This was his answer… “Well son, somebody has to deliver the beer!” With a cigarette hanging outta’ his mouth, he gave me a wink and disappeared back into the smoke.
I sat there on my bike dumbfounded thinking “My dad is freaking crazy!”
I left this town at sixteen. Two of my brothers later became firemen and as time went on my young nephew Keith has become a firefighter. Let’s hope he has come up with a safer way to deliver the beer!
I Kid You Not!(Herm Sherwood-Sitts)
“I Kid You Not!”
by Herm Sherwood-Sitts
It was just a regular summer day, like any other day. Us boy’s were hanging out in front of the Country Store trying to decide if we wanted to play football, baseball or shoot baskets. I was sitting on my bike; the others were on the bench when Lisa and Rey Beth came outta’ the store. Dana (The leader of our gang) said some wise crack and Lisa’s reply was “Shut up Wratten!” We all laughed at Dana, and the girls headed up the street.
Shortly after that, the fire whistle blew. About when the siren reached its third peak, my dad’s truck came flying down the hill like a rocket. When he shifted into second to make the corner, the tires were squealing and pebbles were flying. He never stopped for the intersection, which didn’t surprise us much. (Dad was a great driver, but his total disregard for traffic laws was a well known in these here parts.) We watched in amazement as he sped down the street towards the firehouse.
“Holey Shit! Partridge” Dana giggled. We all started laughing.
Like any young boy; my dad was my hero. So I started pedaling my bike towards the firehouse, hoping to see my hero in action.
When I got down the street a ways, I could see smoke. As I got closer I could see a fairly large grass fire in the field behind the houses on the left.
Our volunteer fire department was made up of a diverse group of men. Some were farmers, welders, loggers, truck drivers, professors and business men. This is way before Insurance and state mandates ruined helping one another, forcing many small fire departments to close.
I watched with excitement as they came rolling in from all directions. They each knew their part as a crew and in no time flat they were on the scene of the fire. I think at the time we only had two fire truck’s and an old panel truck from the 50’s.
Some men were using back sprayers while others were filling trucks at the river.
All of a sudden I see Dad driving like hell through the flames with that old panel truck. I was really concerned that the gas tank might catch on fire.
After quite a few passes he returned to the firehouse.
“Dad! Why are you driving through the flames?” I questioned.
I Kid You Not! This was his answer… “Well son, somebody has to deliver the beer!” With a cigarette hanging outta’ his mouth, he gave me a wink and disappeared back into the smoke.
I sat there on my bike dumbfounded thinking “My dad is freaking crazy!”
I left this town at sixteen. Two of my brothers later became firemen and as time went on my young nephew Keith has become a firefighter. Let’s hope he has come up with a safer way to deliver the beer!
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