The Retired Firefighter

No I haven’t forgotten the excitement of riding on a fire truck. Lights flashing, sirens whaling, nor the feeling of God save”, weather it be human life 0r value possessions of a fellow citizen. I haven’t forgotten the feeling of standing, ankle deep, in freezing water on a 5 below January night, gloves frozen to the nozzle, fighting a fire I know was caused by carelessness or worse.  I haven’t forgotten the terror of being lost in a smoke filled building…feeling the taste of hot coffee and a cold meat loaf sandwich at four in the morning.  Now, I walk into my old firehouse, only to find it now filled with strangers.  I may not walk as fast, or stand as straight as you. My hair may be gray or thin, my jokes don’t come as easy as they once did, but I know in my heart that I have paid the price, and have “earned” the right to say proudly

                                                                                                         “I’m A Retired Firefighter”