Trees, Babysitters, and a Fire truck.

Firemen are heroes, anyone who doubts this is a commie a fascist, or maybe just dumb. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for a brave fireman that rescued me way back in the fall of 91.

Now we all see the firemen rescue the poor frighten kitty from the tree, least on the news. Now I've talked to firemen, they have better things to do then pull a cat out of tree that will most likely come down by itself, but if bored enough they take the call. Pulling 9 year old out of trees, they don't mind doing. I was never much of a tree climber in my youth, but I did dabble. So one day while my the babysitter was over I decided to climb the pine tree in the front yard. It was a rather large tree that forked only a few feet from the ground. The plan was to use the fork to get the the branches some twelve feet above. So I put my knee into the fork to begin my ascent, and that is when my plan fell apart. I was stuck in a tree, two inch from the ground. I could just barely touch the ground with my toe. Now the comedy of the moment didn't strike until several years later.

I was stuck in a tree and Despite ten to 15 minutes of effort I could not free myself. So I yelled, figure hey the babysitter will come, pick me up and we'd laugh at my foolishness over a root beer twin pop. (They should just sell the rootbeer and banana pack I far as I'm concerned) I yelled, and yelled, and yelled took a break and yelled some more. Apparently, as we later learned, our vigilant babysitter thought it was my then infant sister crying in bed, and didn't think it important enough to miss watching Melrose Place on our 13" black and white TV, or what ever it is that babysitters do while the children in their care are stuck in trees. After more than hour a passerby on our quite suburban street noticed my childhood distesstitude. Finally, my hero has come in the form of a rather tall skinny man driving a comically small car. About this time the babysitter seeing stranger in the front yard decide maybe all the yelling was important.

It is my recollection that a small crowd of 3-4 people then gathered. Funny, that an hour of yelling and I had been ignored by the world, well at least the entirety of my neighbors, and now people take notice. The observant and tall man stepped forward to extricate me from my coniferous prison, when a voice from the crowd said, "Wait he could be hurt!" My heart sunk; I protested, and assured all that freeing me would not result in my exsanguination, paralysis or boo boo. My pleas fell on deaf ears.

So while stuck in a tree mere inches from the ground, the fire department was called. To my joy their response was quick. The arrival of a firetruck in our relatively quite street captured the attention of much of the neighborhood. The faces of the same people who an hour before had turned a deaf ear, now peered through half opened doors and parted blinds. It is my hope that maybe, just maybe they felt a little chastised for ignoring a child in need. But, more than likely the impact of such an important lesson has faded with time and the shear asininity of the event.

So after an hour and half my hero had arrived. Confidently he strode forward, looked at my entrapped limb, firmly grabbed my torso and picked me up. He asked to see my knee. Raising my pant leg I displayed my uninjured knee. After expressing my gratitude to my hero, he smiled and returned to fire truck shaking his head as the drove off into the sunset, and I sure had a good laugh with his buddies on the the way home. I scowled a look of disappointment at the faces surrounding me, chastised my sitter for her negligence and went to get myself a well earned twin pop, root beer of course.