I started my EMS/Fire career back in 1999. Both at Sundance, and the North Fork Fire Dept. Occasionally, I come back to my old stompin' grounds, for a shift or two. One fine summer a few years ago, I was helping my friend Kenny, the Asst. Chief, with some other firefighters, with controlled burns. Wildfire, as devastating as it can be, actually helps the forest by cleaning out the dead, and promoting new growth. We were chopping trees down, and cleaning up the dead, and burning it up. As clutz-y as I am, you can gather how muddy my pants were after a day of this, since I'd fall every hike we were on. There happened to be a large wildfire to the north of us, that had come very close to a neighborhood of homes. Kenny, had put the new fire truck in, and the department, for an assist to the US Forest Service. We were to go up and protect the neighborhood in case the fire krept close to the homes again. We were stationed and were to rotate every few hours. We were the overnight shift. We went to the de-briefing and shift change for the night fire crews coming on. We also were able to eat dinner with them before we all started our shifts. We got plates and sat down, just the three of us. Kenny, Stephen, and I. If any of you know Stephen, he likes his food. He wolfed down about three bites of a pasta salad, when I heard... "IS THIS SHRIMP!!!??"
I said, "um, yeah I think..." He immediately responds, "OH SH*T!!" I exclaimed, "YOU'RE ALLERGIC!!?" he jumps up, and tells me he is running to the engine for some benedryl. After being gone about 10 minutes, I panic. I jump up from debriefing, and go looking for Stephen, imagining to find him collapsed in the fetal position, and wheezing for air. I find him, on the phone with his wife, just fine, however, full of benedryl. We get to our post and start our duties. All three of us sat in the front of the truck, Stephen in the middle. Kenny and I are talking, watching the fire and laughing about the good old days, when I noticed Stephen, face down, dead asleep. Those of you that know me and my laugh, know it's more of a cackle and snort, than a laugh, and he wasn't budging. All the benedryl knocked him clean out. We'd move positions, and patrol around the area, discussing plans of evacuation of we needed to etc. We parked where we could see the hill, and sat for a bit. It's around 3:30am. All the neighborhood is quietly sleeping. The truck is dark, and Kenny pushes a button on the steering wheel, to put the engine into a "high idle" which is better in the engines of fire apparatus'. Instead, he hits the air horn. Without a hitch, just as if he'd been awake for hours, in the conversations, everything, Stephen pipes up, and yells.."TIME TO MOVE!!" Kenny already had the truck in gear and was driving as fast as he could out of the area, while I'm ducking, and laughing hysterically at what just happened, and that Stephen, though being knocked out, jumped up and called out our command. Needless to say, I'll never forget how funny that night was, and how glad I was Stephen had ingested shrimp, even though it could've killed him, it didn't. And he's sitting here next to me now. Eating...
