Fireman's Daughter

Every year as 9/11 draws close, I'm reminded of a story from about seven years ago. It was a hot July day and Tom had just left for Boston to do his 2 weeks Reserve Duty. I decided to take the kids, then ages almost 3 and almost 1 down to my parents house for a few days. We had one cell phone at the time, and luckily I had it with me. It was broiling hot and we were stuck in traffic on the Cross Bronx Expressway heading for the George Washington Bridge when my car started to overheat. Not just overheat, but there was a "pop" and then steam starting pouring out from under the hood. I slowly got over into the right lane and threw my hazards on. "ohshitohshitohshitohshit" I was trying not to panic, and realizing that I could not call Tom, I decided to call my dad, down in Staten Island, on the other end of summer rush hour  and Jersey shore traffic. He told me to call 911 and in the meantime I should try to get the vehicle off the highway.

I called 911, explained that I had 2 small children with me and they said they would send someone out to help. At least 45 minutes went by in dead locked traffic and I finally see a police car go by on the opposite side of traffic. Eventually I flagged down a police car that was not aware of my situation, and they parked their car behind mine .  Finally, I asked them if they would follow me to a police station so I could wait safely (I was in the Bronx) until my dad could come and get us. They kind of rolled their eyes at this damsel in distress and gave me directions to the precinct a few blocks from the highway.  At this point it had been several hours and I had split Christopher's milk bottle between the 2 of them so they wouldn't dehydrate. I went into the police station, and they were too busy to help someone without a real problem. I looked around and the place was crawling with young moms with toddlers in tow, in there for reasons unknown to me. For all I know, they were making pests of themselves just to beat the heat and enjoy some free ac. Who knows.

Somehow, I realized thru my bleary eyed panic and desperation that the precinct was attached to a fire house. Well lordy lordy. Didn't my former firefighter father tell me when I first got my drivers license, "If you're ever lost or in trouble, go to a firehouse. Tell them your dad's a fireman and they will take care of you." I left the precinct in a huff and knocked on the door to the firehouse. I told my sob story to the guy who answered the door, including that my dad had told me seek refuge in a firehouse, and he welcomed us right in. He brought us into the huge kitchen, and gave my kids water and apples. Found some Dunkin Donuts from that morning's breakfast and gave the kids each a donut with directions to help themselves if they wanted more. In the meantime, 2 of the guys asked for my keys, physically pushed my car up the street and into the station and began tinkering around under the hood!!!!!!! Some of the other guys brought us into the lounge, which was rows of old sofas all pushed together and encouraged the kids to jump on the couches and put PBS on the giant screen tv.

By the time my mom and dad arrived, they had jerry rigged the car so that it would run, and my dad drove it while the rest of us followed in my parents' car. I thanked them profusely and swore to myself that I would do something nice for them, in fact, hey, maybe I'll even contact a newspaper to share my story. But, I. Never. Did. Anything. I usually avoid the CrossBronx when I drive these days, I always feel like a heel that I never even sent them a thank you note. I didn't know the name of the Company, and then life got in the way. But I never forgot their kindness and the way that it was no big deal to them to help people out. People in need. That's part of the job description, but it seems to go deeper. I'm thankful.

This is my dad and one of his best friends the morning of 9/11, a couple of retired firemen, who went into their basements, grabbed their old gear and got the hell over to downtown Manhattan, to do what they could to help.