It’s 0755 on
Thanksgiving morning, and from my vantage point half a block in either direction from
Sunnyvale Fire Station No. 4 and El Camino Real, I can tell there’s some really
big emergency. They rolled out of the fire station a couple of minutes ago, and
since then there’ve been two more swarms of sirens going down El Camino.
It must be bad.
And since I was putting
together my post-gym breakfast when I heard the first round—you know, just
dawdling about in the lull between the cardio workout and getting going on all
the holiday stuff—I was reminded of how grateful I am for first responders. The men
and women who choose to put themselves in harm’s way year in and year out, days,
nights, weekends, holidays—they’re there…
No, they’re
here for us.
They turn
out whether it’s a kid choking on a hot dog, a grease fire in a Thanksgiving
kitchen or a blaze at a chemical factory.
I’m deeply
grateful that they are here and do their job no matter which pols in municipal,
state or federal governments take shots at the wages, health coverage and
pensions they get. They show up every time, run into buildings that everyone
else is fleeing and do their damndest to save us from the actions of bad guys,
nature and ourselves.
I hope
the crews from Sunnyvale FD and others around the country—hell, others around
the world—have a truly uneventful day today, and that they return safely to
their families after their shift is over. And that this is a happy Thanksgiving
for everyone.
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