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I awake to the piercing cry of the fire pager,
"Station 4, rescue 4, signal four and fifty-three, corner of
U.S. 1 and Sixth Avenue, signal four and fifty-three car versus
truck, U.S. 1 and sixth."
I glance over at the clock, 3:32 am. I jump up grabbing my
jumpsuit and portable and head for the door, after so long on the
fire department I have learned to get dressed and gone in a split
second. You never know when the few seconds you waste could mean
the difference between life and death for someone.
"416, Nassau, 10-51 to the station."
That would be Scott, I had better let him know I am on my way,
"431 Nassau, same traffic."
"10-51 to the station 416 and 431"
"Rescue 4, Nassau 10-51"
Outside I jump in the truck and crank it and I am on my way to
the station. All this takes place within a minute after the call
went out, quick response in the name of the game here. As I pull
up to the station I see that Scott has beat me here again. I
don't get it, he must sleep in his clothes, he lives three blocks
further from the station than I do and it never fails that he
beats me to the station, has the bay doors open and the truck
running, waiting on me. Scott makes almost every run and lives
for these moments I don't blame him, I do too. There is something
fulfilling about what we do. I jump in and turn on the siren and
we are off.
"Squad 4 Nassau, 10-51."
I love this job.
By 5:00 we have cleared the call and are back at the station. Now we have to clean up the equipment we used and repack everything. This one was not too bad, I have seen worse. We did have to extricate, that is always tricky, one wrong cut and you cave the roof, or the door in on your patient. That would not be good. I have seen it happen before I joined the department. It happened in a nearby town. I heard the call go out on my scanner and knew I was going that way anyhow, so I thought I would park before I got there and watch the action. They were trying to peel the roof back to pull the person out the top, they ended up dropping the roof on him. He died, that is not to say that he wouldn't have died anyway, his car had been a speed bump for a tractor trailer. In my opinion he was gone anyway. Luckily nothing like that happened to us tonight, Scott saw to that, at 19, and a Lt., I trust him like no other. He has been in the department as a member for only a year and a half, but he has been involved with the explorer post for almost four years. I think, his last year was spent in the Explorer Chief's position. He knows what he is doing at all times. Sometimes we have disagreements with the rescue workers because they have been to school and so on, they think that we don't know what we are doing and they will try to take over every chance they get. I have no problem with that if they are more knowledgeable than me in that area, but a lot of them are know-it-alls. No matter what you are doing it is never right unless they thought of it, this is typical of new hires, or part-timers looking to go full time. They come in and want to make a name for themselves, but they usually end up looking foolish and ruining their relations with the volunteers. Such was not the case tonight we had two veterans working with us, they know we know what we are doing, and vice-versa, I wish they could all be like that. Everything went smoothly though we got her out of the car and off to the hospital without a hitch. Clean-up and go home to try and sleep for an hour till it is time to go to work.
After work I go to the station to meet Scott, he wants to work
on the truck some, he is really dedicated, I love to volunteer
but to Scott it is a lifestyle. He will almost always be found at
the station doing something, anything from washing or restocking
trucks, to just sitting and watching TV so the station can be
manned. Today we are supposed to do some training. No matter how
much I think I know Scott can always pull a subject out of his
head that stumps me. Aside from being my Lt., Scott is also one
of my best friends. After training we are going out to sit at our
usual spot under the red light with the rest of our friends. We
all keep in touch with cb radios and stick together like glue,
where you find one it is a sure bet that the other five will not
be far behind. When I get close enough I start calling Scott on
the cb.
"How 'bout it Hedgehawg, you got your ears on?"
"Go ahead Shadow"
"What's your twenty?"
"Where do you think? I am where you were supposed to be ten
minutes ago."
He is trying to sound mad but I know better, he has probably been
sitting there talking to one of the many girls who will stop by
the station just to talk to him.
"10-4, I am almost there, I got off late because I was late
to work this morning, oh-yeah, what is the flavor today?"
"What makes you think there is one here?"
"Because I know you."
"Joy"
"Ok, I'll be there in a few."
I had to laugh, Joy and Scott have been an on again off again
thing forever. They will see each other then get tired of each
other and won't talk for a week or two then they are right back
at it. I know I got him in trouble with that flavor of the day
remark. But he does it to me when he gets the chance so I don't
feel to bad.
Sorry, that is all I have for now, it is a work in progress. Check back soon for more in the story. If you want to see the real story behind The Last Call then check out the tribute to My Hero
THIS STORY WRITTEN BY:Chris Beasley. THIS STORY IS BEING WRITTEN FROM THE STORY "The Last Call" ORIGINALLY WRITTEN BY ME AFTER THE DEATH OF MY BEST FRIEND SCOTT JOHNSON IN 1994. THIS VERSION HAS BEEN FICTIONALIZED TO EXPAND ON THE ORIGINAL UNFINISHED STORY WHICH WAS STARTED ON JUNE 19,1994. THE FIRST DRAFT WAS STARTED AS GRIEF THERAPY FOR ME WHILE I WAS IN BOOT CAMP FOR THE NAVY IN GREAT LAKES NAVAL TRAINING CENTER, JUST DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF MY FRIEND. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO BOOKMARK IT AND VISIT IT OFTEN, BUT PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS WORK WITH THE INTENT OF PLAGERISM. IF YOU HAPPEN TO SPOT ANY ERRORS, TYPO'S, OR ANY OTHER DISCREPENCY PLEASE BRING IT TO MY ATTENTION. THANK YOU AND MAY YOU EXPERIENCE MANY PLEASURES FROM READING THIS STORY