Hooked and Laddered

       There was an Easter Sunday I decided to work at the lab – this was before I was married, and I'm sure there was some family get-together I probably attended later in the day. The buses would have been running on a holiday schedule which means that they were few and far between – so I was on a bus well before 6am that morning.

         As we rode along I could hear the conversation of two women who were sitting together – actually they were boisterous and laughing! From what I could gather, they were maids who worked at a hotel on Main Street. I thought about how I chose to go to work on Easter Sunday, but these women had to work. And yet they were happy and making the most of it. So why did I, when I knew very well I was doing something constructive with the day and had the choice to do it or not do it – why did I feel so gloomy? I did not envy their jobs – that's really hard stuff – but I did want to be as happy as the two women on their way to do maid's work on an Easter Sunday seemed to be. 

        Sometimes it is tough to realize that happy is a choice too.

        One afternoon I was on a bus coming home when the noise of a fire engine could be heard. Looking around, we saw that the fire truck was heading in our direction, coming right down the street toward us. It was a hook and ladder fire truck with the ladder part seemingly extra long and with a mind of its own. There was someone sitting at the very end of the ladder section in a seat, and the ladder was almost perpendicular to the truck, meaning that the ladder was on our side of the street and appeared to be about to crash into the windshield of the bus! I was sitting up front that day in the seats that face each other. I was across from the bus driver – with a view right out the windshield. The guy in the seat on the ladder and I made eye contact!

toy version of what I saw that day

        Then, at what had to have been the very last second, whoever had control over the ladder, either the driver of the truck, or it seemed more likely it was the guy on the ladder, swerved the ladder back into the same lane as the fire truck, and they continued on down the street.

        I doubted my senses at that point – the experience seemed too unreal. Then I looked around at the other passengers on the bus. One woman across the aisle from me started laughing! She said, “Honey, I didn't think you could get any whiter than you already are – but you just did!” and she laughed some more. I couldn't even smile back at her – must have been in shock. Now I can laugh, but only at the comment – I still don't know what the heck that fire truck was doing!

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