MountainVerseCheck out my blogs's blog: "Stories"

I watched in silence as he struggled down the street. The gloves on his hands were worn and thick calluses had formed where the bare skin met the ground. On his back he carried a metal framed backpack loaded down ith more then he should be able to carry. His arms were now his legs as he swung his body back and forth, using the stubs of his once strong legs as a support. I could see the lines etched over his hardened skin on his face. A large scar ran down the side of his neck. I wondered what kept him going each day as his life had to be harsh. A car suddenly drove past him on the side walk, sending a shower of muddy water over him like he ws not there. I started towards him to lend him a helping hand but he did not wait as he just looked blankly after the car and shook his head. Once again he was moving along the sidewalk, people staring and pointing as he passed them by. I could feel a pain in my heart for this man. I could tell of the pride he had buried deep inside him, taking his life one day at a time. He politely nodded to all those that passed him and would stop and chat to others that would take the time. I watched as a smile grew on his hardened face as he talked with an elderly couple, sitting and waiting at a bus stop. He was in no hurry and chatted with his ne found friends until their bus came and they had left. He longingly watched after the bus, shrugged his shoulders and then moved along his way. The sun that had shown most of the early morning had quickly vanished and I felt a cool breeze nipping the back of my neck. Without even understanding why I started following this stranger I had just met, keeping a safe distance behind so as not to look to obvious. Down the street he moved, stopping and waiting with other pedestrians as traffic cleared an intersection and they crossed. I stopped and waited while he stopped and chatted with an elderly newspaper peddler, taking a bundle the man gave him and sliding it into his pack. He reached up and shook the mans hand and I knew that between them there had been a special bond formed. He continued down the street, stopping for a minute to rest his weary arms, before continuing on his way. Suddenly he turned into a dark alley and I wondered where he was headed. Here I was, following a man that had done nothing to me and prying into his life. I could no longer see the man I had been following. I paused for a couple of minutes before starting down the alley to see where it led me to. I was startled when I heard a rustling just ahead of me, unknowing if it was even safe to be here. I stopped and listened for a second and was about to turn and run when I heard a voice say, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t bite ya or anything.” I looked around, my eyes peering into the darkness when I finally made out a man sitting by an large cardboard box. I walked over and sat down next to him on a pile of newspapers. He looked at me, searching for the reason I had followed him. There was none so I could not answer that question for him. Maybe it was just intriguing to me how he got around town with no legs. The day quickly became night as we sat there talking, unaware of the time passing us by. He had such a carefree outlook on life, seemingly letting nothing bother him. I shivered slightly from a cool breeze that filled the alley. He asked me if I wanted to come into his house and he would fix us something to eat. I started to refuse but he would have none of it so I nodded my acceptance. I watched as he turned and lifted the large canvas over the end of the box and motioned for me to come in. I hesitated for a second then bending over I moved into the box. I was amazed when I saw the insides as it was not one box but many put together, that he had divided into rooms. This was his home and he was proud enough to welcome people into it. A new appreciation was growing for this man every minute. He disappeared into another part of his cardboard mansion for a few minutes. Upon his return I saw that he had brought back with him the meal that he had offered earlier. My heart was breaking now knowing I had accepted a meal from a man that had very little to his name. With his calloused trembling hands, I watched as he struck a match and lit a small one burner stove. Placing a pot on the stove he dumped in some noodles and emptied a couple packets into it. Soon the aroma of the meal filled the box as we sat there and talked. He started telling me his life and how he had proudly joined to go off and fight in a distant war. Many of his comrades were killed in combat and yet he had made it back alive, wounded but alive. I listened intently to the bone chilling story as it unfolded. He told of the family he left behind him as he went off to war and I could see the pain he felt in the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks. When he was sent back to the states, both legs missing from a battle in the war, where mortar had torn through their compound, he found loneliness. His wife had left with his children, leaving behind a message telling him not to come looking for them. His heart was ripping deeply while he continued but he would not stop. I felt a large lump forming in my throat, finding it hard to swallow as I fought back my own tears. He told me how his house had been foreclosed because his wife had taken the money he had sent and used it for her new life. He was not bitter at her and I could tell by his words that he still loved this woman very much. The military had taught him to survive on little or nothing and that is what he did. He stopped long enough to remove the pot from the stove and load two dishes with noodles and hand one to me. He then reached into a box and pulled out two spoons and handed me one. We sat there quietly, for the next few minutes, eating the steaming hot noodles. Suddenly he broke the silence again as he spoke of the love he and admiration he had for all his comrades that had gone to war with him and valiantly gave their lives. His heart mourned for the loved ones back here that had to endure that loss. I shook my head in agreement as I knew fist hand that war was evil and losses from it carried lifelong scars. We finally finished our meal and I sat back and listened to more and more. Reaching behind him he pulled out a wooden box, the lid having a soldier kneeling in front of a cross. He opened it with trembling hands and I was amazed at what was inside. There laying before me was his life in keepsakes that he had saved. I saw a soiled picture of him and his family, in a golden colored frame. He had separate pictures of each of his kids that he showed to me. He pulled out a letter and he sobbed as he said, “This is the one that told me good-bye!” I felt a tear form in the corner of my eye, reaching up I quickly wiped it aside. He pulled out his service ribbons and I could see he was well decorated. He was a true hero in my eyes. He handed me the ribbons and my eyes looked from one to another until I was stopped dead in my tracks. There it was laying there in front of me, soiled but still there was no doubt in my mind what I looked at. At the very top of his ribbons laid the highest award of all the Medal Of Honor. As I looked up I saw that he had been watching me. Quickly he said, “Yes that is my Medal Of Honor, given to me for the lives I saved pulling wounded comrades from a life threatening fir fight. I was in total shock and awe, all at the same time. There sitting before me was an American hero, sheltered in a cardboard box because he had lost everything while serving the country he loved. No angry hard feelings did he shelter towards anyone as he told me there was a reason for everything that happens. I looked back on all the things that I had complained about in my life and I felt so ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I had not realized that no matter how bad there was always someone else who was worse off. Ashamed that I had so much more then I needed and this man had so little and was content with his life. My eyes filled with tears now and I felt the first warm trickles as they slid down my cheek. I was crying for him and also for my pitiful self for being so greedy. I knew that this would be a moment in my life that would change my life forever. Something special had happened here today, and I was now glad that I had followed this proud man. I watched as he put all his keepsakes carefully back in the box and closed the lid. This man of little means would be a hero that I would carry with me the rest of my life. © Tall Mountain Dreamer October, 6, 2007

In the dark of the night on a desolate mountain road, the car was traveling along. Having had more then enough to drink I gripped the steering wheel even harder, imagining it would help me to control the vehicle better. I knew in my my heart I was in no condition to drive and yet my mind told me that I could make it home safely. My best friend sat in the passenger seat, idly looking out into the darkness. Neither of us could wait to get back to the comforts of our own homes and loved ones that waited there. We had just safely dropped off another one of our friends a few minutes ago at his home. Along the winding mountain road I drove, happy that limited vehicles were out driving at this time of night. Closer and closer we came to the end of our trip when suddenly fear filled me. I had a flat on a mountain road, fighting to keep control of the vehicle, fearing that we would go off the road and crash, dying in a horrendous and violent death. I was rapidly losing control of the vehicle, my reactions limited from the slacohol which I had consumed throughout the day. Looking over I could see the fright in my friends eye, knowing that we were in grave danger if I did not get the vehicle stopped and pulled off the road. Through my mind flew flashes of accidents I had seen and the deadly results they had caused, knowing that that could not and would not ever happen to me. Now I was about to be caught right in the middle of one of them unless a miracle came quickly. The steering wheel was fighting me now, seemingly controlled by the demon of death. Was this the way that our lives were meant to end, on a mountain road, in the night, void of the ones that loved us so much. I knew I was in trouble as I had been drinking and did not have alicense in my possession, yet knowingly let others get into the car and ride with me. Suddenly the vehicle crashed as I listened to the violent wrenching of metal against the rocks. I closed my eyes tightly and held onto the steering wheel with all my strength.Skidding and ramming into rocks we went. Suddenly the airbag deployed and I as wrapped into it, cushioning me from any sudden and violent impact. All I cared about now was living through this ordeal and being back ith loved ones. Wait! What was I saying? Had I forgotten about the passenger that sat across the seat from me? Did I care that they were in as much if not more danger then I was since the violent crunching and ripping of metal seemed to come from over there? Yes that seemed to be what I was saying, that I was the one and only thing that mattered to me. The vehicle had finally stopped as I opened my eyes and looked around in the darkness. I knew in my mind that there would be blood running all over my body from injuries. I let my hands slide along my arms and legs and over my body and I was amazed. There was no blood and no injuries at all. My heart filled with joy as I knew I had been lucky and made it through that ordeal. Suddenly I remembered I had not been alone and I looked across the vehicle where my friend was sitting. I called out his name again and again, waiting in between each for him to respond. I could see blood coming from him and smeared on the inside of the vehicle. I knew in my heart he would be all right though since i had not received even a scratch. I watched as he turned his head toward me, leaving me staring into the eyes of a sould that was suffering great pain and anguish. I watched as his lips moved slightly and he said, "Why? Why? Why did this have to happen?" I assured him that he would be all right as I searched for the cell phone to notify the police and get medical help. It was not long before the night was dilled with flashing lights and sirens as emergency crews arrived and worked on my injured friend. I was now deep in thought as I had a choice to make. Would I tell them I was driving, even though I had spent the day drinking? Or would I point the finger at my injured friend that was being feverishly worked on by medical persons, trying to save his life? I also knew that I had been driving without a valid license and may never drive again if the police ever found out. I watched as the police officer came closer and closer, my mind whirling trying to come up with a decision on what to say. I had finally decided as he stepped up to me. I listened carefully to the words as he spoke, telling me how lucky I was to not have gotten seriously injured in the accident. I looked at him and smiled a nervous smile. He started asking questions and I answered them as fast as I could. I knew he could smell the odor of alcohol on my breath as I talked. My mind raced trying to stay ahead of his questions, making sure I knew what I was saying without having to stop and think. He asked me how much I had to drink and I told him that I was really unsure at the moment but that we had been at a party and been drinking off and on throughout the day. His look at me hardened and then the question came, asking me who had been driving. Without hesitation in my voice I looked him in the eye and told him that my friend had been driving, assuring me that he was fit to drive us back home. He looked at me inquisitively, knowing it was my car. I assured him that I had given the keys to my friend since he would not let me drive in my alcohol induced impairment. I watched as he wrote in his notebook, hiding my sweaty palms and nervousness. I stood there watching as he turned and walked away, making his way back to the ambulance where my friend was now being prepared to be moved to the hospital for treatment. I knew I had made it through the questions, piling the blame unfairly on him. Deep inside I felt no guilt just relief that I would still be able to drive after I found a vehicle to replace mine. I was feeling really good about what I had done when I saw the policeman once again approaching me. My heart started racing and my nerves ran wild as he came up to me. "One more question he asked, "Do you have a valid license to drive?" I looked up into his eyes and with no hesitation I answered, "Yes officer I do, but it is not on me." The lies were quickly getting deeper now as he asked me to explain why it was my car and how we got to the party earlier that day. I told him that I had left my license at home so I would not be tempted to drive after drinking and my friend had offered to drive us since he was not a big drinker. He quickly wrote in his book and started to turn away, stopping long enough to say, "At least there was one smart person in the vehicle today." I smiled at him and nodded my head as he walked back over near the vehicle. I took a deep breath knowing I had been spared and that my name was not going to go down as being responsible for the accident and injuries. Soon I was ast home with loved ones uncaring that my friend was laying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. Tubes and machines were working hard to keep him alive while the dostors fought to save his life. His family was by his side now, trying to come to grips with the thought that their beloved son might not make it. They wondered how and why he was driving my car, knowing that we were not that close of friends in real life. We would speak and chat with each other but very seldom would we spend much time together. I laid there in my bed smiling, knowing I had used a lie to keep my name clean and unresponsible for that night. The next day word came that my friend had not made it as the machines and tubes had been removed and he passed. No tears came to me and I knew now that my lie was safe, taking it to the grave with him. I sighed a huge sigh of relief at the thought that I was free, free of the only person that could and would put me behind the wheel. I cared not that his family still thought that he had been driving, that he had been responsible for his own death. Let them think that as long as my name was free and clear of any suspicion. I knew there would be a funeral soon and debated on whether I would even go. I surely did not want to listen to any questions about the accident or people who thought different of the facts as they were now known. I did not care what people thought of me or what suspicions they had as I was free and still able to enjoy my life. I now would and was totally comfortable of hiding behind those lies for the rest of my life. Anything that kept my name clean and people from anger towards me was the way I wanted and would live. I cared not that a family had their hearts torn by their loss and living with the thought that their loved one had caused his own death. (c) Tall Mountain Dreamer September 22, 2007

I could feel the cold of the steel as the knife was pulled across my neck. The oozing blood from the deep gash send rivulets of warmth running don over my chest. I closed my eyes in fear, knowing that I was feeling my life slowly slipping away from me as I laid there. I knew not who had done this and yet I sensed a closeness to them. As I slowly took each breath I heard the gurgling sound in my throat. I knew the wound had been cut deep and it was matter of time before I would succumb to my calling. My only hope now was that I would not lay there and be made to suffer, praying the end would come quickly. Seconds ticked slowly by, listening to them as my heartbeat grew fainter. I closed my eyes tightly as a light appeared there in front of me. I watched as a door opened and light beams flowed through. Suddenly a man appeared, standing in the doorway, staring straight me as I laid there. I could not move any longer, transfixed as if held by some unseen force. I watched as he slowly walked towards me with his hand stretched out for mine. Uncontrolled I raised my trembling hand to greet this man. A warmth filled me as my hand slid into his. I knew he was not there to hurt me but to guide me in this time of need. I laid there in a deep red pool of blood now seeping into the sheets of my bed. I thought of the loved ones that had gathered to be with me as my time on earth came to a close. I was loved and thankful for all the memories that I had been able to collect in the many years that had passed me by. I felt a lightness come over me as I was lifted from my bed. I was now in the arms of this stranger as he turned and walked back towards the door. All around me was so bright and pure as I looked up into his eyes. He saw the worry on my face and quickly said, “I assure you you have nothing to fear any longer. You are now amongst your ancestors and friends that have came here before you. I looked up at him and I saw his confidence in that he spoke the truth. I slowly let all my pain and anger seep from me. I watched the door open for us and together we stepped inside, leaving the world behind us. There was no place for me in that world anymore, having lived the days that were to be my life. I heard the door close behind us then the rejoicing of angelic voices as I was brought into their fold. All around me looked so pure and unblemished. I turned to look for the guide that had accompanied me on this trip, only to find that he was no longer near me. This was a different trip that I would be asked to undertake and one that would last me for eternity. There would be no ending as their was no true beginning as nothing would be asked or expected of me. The comfort and calmness I now felt was unexplainable and yet I accepted it without question. I walked back to the door and opened it, looking back at the body I had left behind. Laying there looking so peaceful, knowing that soon loved ones would accompany it to its final resting place. I could see the tears that flowed from their eyes as they gathered by my side, each saying their good-byes in their own way. There was no leaving my new home nor did I want to. I accepted the events as they had unfolded, blaming no one. I wondered why it had happened to me and yet I was not angry for it happening. This was meant to be my life and I had lived it to the very end the way I had wanted. I could feel a warmth close in around me. The same comfort I had felt when I had been held in the arms of my loving mother when I was first born. The security and closeness told me I had nothing to fear as these arms would protect me. I heard the faint whisper of a voice that I recognized having heard it many times before Closer and closer it came to me as I laid there wondering if this could possibly be. I closed my eyes tighter now as I was in fear that it was hoax. Then I heard it right there beside me. I opened my eyes, looking up into those same eyes that had looked down on me when I was born. I was held in her arms now as she said over and over again, “Wake up you are having a bad dream.” I awoke slowly, cradled in the soft arms of my mother as she comforted me this night. © Tall Mountain Dreamer October 14, 2007

I watched as he struggled to get from his bed to the wheelchair that had become his means of transportation. Slowly the surgery was healing and therapy would provide him the chance to have as normal a life as possible. No sadness did he show for the harsh reality that was brought to him to bare. He had never and would never ask why him or regret what he had done that had put him in danger. Many men before him had served their country, facing even greater sacrifices then he had. Finally in his seat, the stump ends of his legs barely hanging over the edge, he turned and rolled towards the door. A nurse stepped aside as he opened the door and rolled into the hallway. Entering the hallway the early morning sun cast its warm brightness all over him and he smiled. The smile was not from happiness but of comfort that he had been able to see another day. When he laid in the middle of the battlefield in pain he had wondered if he would make it. He could still see the grim look of the medic as he feverishly worked over him trying to stop the flow of blood flowing from his body. He remebered listening to the doctors as they carefully examined his injuries once he had made it to a hopsital. Those words still echoed through his head as they said, "We hate to tell you this but you are going to lose both of your legs." He had looked at them with horror filled eyes as he laid there. He wondered what an athlete would do with no legs, how would he be able to do the things he loved in life? He had laid in his bed, tears flwoing from his eyes, feeling more and more pitty for himself. Then the pitty stopped when he witnessed another soldier being brought into the hospital where a chaplain was waiting and adminsitered his last rights for him. In minutes the brave soldier had passed away. He knew that somewhere, back in the country he loved, a family would be filled with grief from the news of their loss. He turned and headed down the hallway, stopping long enough to chat with others he had come to know in his stay there. They all had one thing in common as it had been war that had brought them together, not just for the common cause of defending their country but also for what it had done to them. As his hands gripped the wheels and pushed the chair rolled closer and closer to the rehab that awaited him. He ctopped suddenly as he passed by a door that was usually closed. This morning it was open and the room seemed to draw him in. Turning his wheelchair into the doorway he slowly entered the room, looking back and forth. The room had changed, gone was the sound of the heart monitor beating out its familiar rythmic sound. No more did her see the curtains drawn seperating the sleeping areas. His heart fell deep inside him as a lump filled his throat. He looked up at the lone nurse who was just leaving. The look in his eyes asked the question of words that his heart would not allow him to ask. She stopped at his side, placing a hand softly on his shoulder she said, "I am sorry, he passed away early this morning." Tears filled his eyes quickly as he sat there staring out into the emptiness of life. He rolled over to where the hero had laid and placed his hand on the bed and closed his eyes. Tear after tears stained the front of the hospital attire he wore as he released his pain. In that bed had laid the brave hero that had carried him out of harms way, risking his own life in the prcoess. The nurse watched with a breaking heart as he uttered over and over, "No God, you took the wrong one, take me instead." Time had passed as he had sat there with tears streaming down his cheeks. Finally he composed himself and turned away from the bed and wheeled out into the hallway. Nothing seemed to matter anymore as his problems seemed so minute to the death and loss a family was suffering today. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice and looking down the hall he saw his rehab nurse coming towards him. He watched as she approached, her beaming smile and her bouncy step receding as she could see on his face the pain that filled him. SHe stopped momentarily to talk to a nurse that was passing before walking to him in silence. She understood the heart felt pain and loss he was feeling now. She alked up to his wheelchair and knelt down beside him. Her heart pained for what he was feeling and yet she knew that each person dealt with their pain in their own way. She knew the connection between the two of them as they both had talked to her, telling of the battle they had been wounded in. Her soft voice slowly calmed him him as his tears lessened. He looked at her as he courageously built a forced smile. She smiled reassurance back to him, lettinghim know she was there if he needed. She stood and stepped up behind his chair, her hands sliding onto the handles. She bent over and whispered to him that she had something to give him. He looked over his shoulder inquisitively, wondering what it could possibly be. She pushed him to the elevator that they rode sielntly down to the rehab center. Once there she pushed him past the door they usually entered. Through the glass he could see the many stations were filled with others that had been injured, rehabbing their own injuries. Down the hallway they went until they came to his traniers office and she opened the door and they entered. She pushed him up to her desk and then walked around and opened the top drawer and drew out a plain white envelope and walked back to him. She held out the envelope telling him, "This is for you, your hero wanted me give it to you if he did not make it. I helped him write it as he told me what he wanted to say to you." With trembling hands he hreached out and took the envelope from her. He slowly opened it as his world emptied of everything around him. He began reading it through tear filled eyes. The more he read, the more the tears came, blurring his vision until he handed it back to the nurse and asked her to read it to him. SIlently he sat there staring into space, listening to ever word that she read. The nurse paused, took a deep breath and said, " To my hero. I know that we both have met under circumstances that neither of us controlled. With our comrades we united to answer our country's call. The honor we both have in our job, uniform and country will never die as we will carry it in our hearts for eternity. If you are reading this I know I have paid the ultimate sacrifice for my country with no regrets." She paused and looked him sitting there in total silence. He looked up at her and in a barely audible tone said, "Please go on, finish reading what he wrote." With that she went on, "I ask that you fight and cling to your dreams and hopes and soon you will be able to leave here and return to your loved ones. I ask only one thing of you as you strive to conquer your disabbilities. Remain strong, drive yourself, and never take no for an answer or give in to them. I will be watching you always from my place in heaven among other fallen heroes. When you are able I wish you to meet my family as they know all about you and love you as one of their own. Remember one thing soldiers never die, we just fade away until we answer muster once again on high." Witht he final words still ringing in his ears he looked up at the nurse with a cold hard face. She sat there silently waiting for him to speak, wondering how he was dealing with all the pain and suffering his mind and heart were going through now. Seconds passed into minutes as they sat there in silence. With determination he suddenly grabbed the wheels of his chair, turned it around and headed out of the door. Stopping in the doorway momentarily, he looked over his shoulder and asked, "Aren't you coming we have work to do, I will walk again." With that a smile returned to her face as she jumped to her feet. Together they entered the rehabilitation room and went to their station. His session finished he asked her to walk him back to his room. Down the hallway they went in silence until they entered his room. She held the chair as he pulled himself up onto his bedand sat there looking at her. She smiled at him and turned to leave, heading back as there were others that she would work with that needed her. She stopped as he called her name, turned and looked at him sitting there. He looked at her and said, "I want you to escort me to his funeral, you really do understand. Promise me, please!" With that request filling her ears she agreed and smiled as she turned and walked out of the room. She knew that this was a special man, a hero and most of all one that would overcome the odds that he now faced. (C) Tall Mountain Dreamer June 15, 2007

The nights stillness was shattered as the alarm sounded. My heart raced as it did with each time the alarm sounded. People were running here and there, gathering their equipment and reporting to their vehicles. The bay doors were already open and we pulled out into the street , accompanied by the emergency lights and sirens. We turned the corner and headed south on Main Street of this quiet little town. I closed my eyes and said a quick silent prayer, asking that everyone be kept safe on this night. We had been lucky having not seen a death from fire for a long spell. I looked out the windshield and could see the red glow against the dark sky, knowing the fire was not far away. Our small convoy of vehicles responding, lit up the night with their lights flashing, warning anyone out driving that we were responding to an emergency. We turned a corner and there in front of us was a large house, engulfed in flames. The truck screeched to a stop and we all jumped out. No commands were needed as we all knew what was expected of each of us. I watched as one of the men scurried across the road and in seconds had the fire hose secured to the hydrant. I grabbed an axe and jogged over to wards the building. In seconds water was shooting from hoses as the firemen tried to get control of the fire, saving whatever part of the house that they could. Sparks lazily danced up into the night air before disappearing. Neighbors were rapidly congregating nearby as others came rolling past in cars, trying to see what had happened. The flames danced up into the air as if they were tickling the darkness. Behind us I heard more trucks responding as I knew that our department was going to need help, if we were going to save any part of this house. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to see who was there, wanting to disturb me while I helped any way I could. I was assigned the entry team and knew I would not be able to go inside until I was given permission by the chief. Behind me stood the chief and the look on his face told me there was something desperately wrong. I turned and gave him my undivided attention now as I knew it was important. He took me by the arm and led me over to a secluded spot, where I would be able to hear him over all the others that were talking. He looked into my eyes and I could tell that whatever it was, he was struggling with it. I knew then that it meant that someone was dead inside or that someone was unaccounted for. This was part of our job and none of us took it lightly. We were dedicated individuals who had decided to devote their lives to helping and saving others that were in need. He finally spoke and the words I heard ripped at my heart instantly. A sinking feeling dilled my stomach with each word. I knew I had to keep my composure as I listened. A child was unaccounted for and was last known to be on the third floor of the house, in their bedroom. He told me that the house was in danger of collapsing and it was up to me if I wanted to try and make my way up to the third floor and see if I could find the child. I looked at him and without hesitation I told him that I was willing to take the risk that could mean my life. It was not for praise that I decided, it was because a precious life may lay in the balance. We walked back over to the sidewalk that led up to the front door. Dark billowing smoke filled the entire entrance. I grabbed my air tank and my three comrades that would assist me readied themselves as I slid it on. The chief gave us a nod and we headed towards the step leading up onto the porch. A hose was quickly diverted and flooded the doorway, trying to keep the flames at bay so we could enter. Up the stairs we scurried now and soon we were inside the door, standing in a completely engulfing smoke filled hallway. I reached out and my hand slid down the wall as we worked our way forward. After a few steps my foot stubbed the riser of the stairs I was blindly searching for. I knew that once we started up the stairs that we were placing ourselves in greater peril. The house could collapse and we all could be trapped or the floor could cave in and we could fall to our deaths. I did not hesitate as I climbed the steps, one after the other. My heart raced with every step we took. I wondered what I would find ahead and if I found anyone would we be able to get back out of the house safely. I was calling out to anyone, hoping we would hear a response. Water from the hoses outside was cascading down on us as we searched. Up to the third floor we moved, working our way to the back of the house. The heat from the fire that surrounded us was almost unbearable, yet we continued on. We went from room to room, carefully opening doors and calling to anyone inside. My heart was sinking now as I heard no one calling out to us. I knew that this meant that if anyone was in here they had succumbed to a fiery death. My radio came to life as the chief called us and told us we had to leave the house as it was now declared totally unsafe and ready to collapse. These were the words that we were dreading to hear and yet we knew our lives were in peril. We turned and walked towards the stairs that we had come up. Just as I grabbed the railing to start down them I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look and I saw no one directly behind me. The unseen person now pulled me back and turned me away from the stairs. Taking me by the hand they led me back don the hallway. I walked slowly as I heard my comrades calling out for me. We walked into a room that was filled with smoke, moving across the floor towards the far wall. I wondered who had guided me back here and why they wanted me in this room. Was it the firemen’s guardian angel, telling me that the stairs were too dangerous? Was it one of my comrades that thought they had heard something? I had no idea but whoever or whatever it was it would not let go of me. Suddenly a door opened and I heard the cough of a small child. My heart raced as I moved to the sound immediately. Huddled in the corner of this small room was the child that had been reported missing. I thought of how close we had been to leaving this child here to perish in the fire. I took off my ask and slid it over the child to give them a couple breaths of air, hoping it would help to get them outside and to medical personnel. I picked up the child in my arms now and held them close to me, protecting them from the heat that surrounded us. The unknown guide, took my arm and ushered me out the door and down the hallway. We moved cautiously but faster this time as if my guide knew that the building would not last much longer. Down the stairs I went and out the front door. Around me the night air was filled with chatter from all the people and the sounds of firefighting that I had come to know and love. I walked slowly over to where the ambulance was parked with the child still cuddled in my arms. My motherly instincts wanted to hold and comfort this child, erasing the regretful incident of this night. I was the first woman team leader appointed on the fire department and though I was the brunt of some jokes I took my job serious. I was well respected by all that worked at our firehouse and that is all that mattered to me. I did not become a fire fighter for praise or glory but to serve the people of the town I loved. Just as the paramedics took the child from my arms, I heard a familiar sound behind me. The twisting and crashing sound of a building, succumbing to its worst nightmare, filled the air. I wondered who or what had guided me out to safety after leading me to the child. I know I would be praised for risking my life and yet it was them or it that was the true hero. Many times when I had started on the force I had heard tell of the firemen’s angel that many had felt and seen in times of danger. I had always scoffed at it thinking they were messing with my mind. Tonight was different as I had come to meet this invisible angel and now I too would be able to tell of a story where it saved me and a child. I closed my eyes as I leaned against a tree, opening them hen I felt an arm slide around my shoulders. I turned and faced my chief as he stood there with a smile. He commended me on the job I had done and turned to walk away. He stopped after a few steps and turned back to say, “Yes, now you have met the firemen’s angel too.” © Tall Mountain Dreamer October 7, 2007

The cool autumn wind was tugging gently at our skin as we walked. The old railway bed, that we followed, wound its way quietly along the side of the mountain, making a good path for many hikers. I was thankful that this time of the year the people were gone, feeling a lot safer knowing there were not as many people in the woods as in other seasons. I could see thin layers of ice on the puddles from yesterdays rain. The ground crunched under my weight as the frosts had hardened it. I watched the ground for any sign of big game that may have crossed or followed the trail. The sun was still low in the morning sky, filtering down through leaves that were already wearing their autumn colors. In the distance I could hear the roar of the mighty river that followed the old tracks, both parts of the history of the area. My gun laid cradled across my arms, the barrel aimed harmlessly at the ground. My ears paid attention to every sound that was around, filtering out the ones that were meaningless to me this day. Gradually we made our way up the side of the mountain along the path, looking and waiting for our chance to score a big game kill. The season had opened a week before but work had delayed my father and me getting out to my favorite spot. Now we had the day to ourselves and the two of us, my father and myself, were spending precious time together. I heard the snapping of a branch off to the side of the trail and we stopped, watching and waiting to see if there would be more. Seconds passed into minutes as my heart raced in anticipation. Finally, with a sigh of disappointment, we started on as no other movement was heard. I had seen many signs of game when I had walked the trail throughout the summer. Now however it was like they knew they were hunted and would make it as hard as possible for us and the hunters. We walked up over a knoll and started down the other side, just as a large buck jumped out into the trail ahead of us. I was not sure if we had startled him or he had startled us but there we stood looking at each other. I slowly raised my rifle to my shoulder as I aimed down the barrel, making sure the sights were pointing at the perfect spot. I had always prided myself on accuracy and knew that if I was not totally sure that I had a killing shot I would let the animal live for another day. I placed the crosshairs of the scope right behind his front leg, knowing he would be sure to die from wound in that area. I waited for my breath to normalize and my heart to stop racing as I reached with my finger and removed the safety that I always used when walking. I had been taught the dangers of a weapon, what it meant to have one in your arms, and the damage it could cause if an accident happened. One thing I took serious was weapons could and did kill, not only game and for food but people as well. Just as I heard the safety click ther buck bolted into the woods as if warned of the impending danger that he faced. I watched him run, his bright white tail bouncing up and down as he leaped over downed trees. I marveled at how graceful he looked as he picked his way through the trees and up the side of the hill. We walked up to where the deer had stood and the massive hoof prints told me that this was deffinitely a trophy deer. I looked through the woods in the direction he had gone, hoping I would see soem sign of him. My eyes slowly scoured the vegetation but there was no sign of the large buck. I put the safety back on and we turned to continue walking. We walked along in silence as I knew my father was listening toi the sounds around him, hoping to pick up a distinct sound that sperated itself from the others. Down into another gulley we moved, watching our step as we went as the ground was soft and many times rocks were hidden just under the surface. One false step and we would go sliding down the hill like kids sliding in the winter on fresh fallen snow. The sun was up and it was now well into the morning as we rounded a bend and there on the trail ahead of us stood that same buck, I was sure of it. This time I thought we had come up pn him and he had no idea that we were even in the area. He dropped his head and lazily drank from a small brook that he was standing beside. As he drank I slowly raised my rifle to my shoulder and reeleased the safety, readying for a shot. I took careful aim, waiitng for him to stand erect once again, ready for a killing shot into his chest. Suddenly I heard a snapping of branches and the buck lifted his head. I knew now was the time and I let my finger squeeze against the cold steel of the trigger. The loud retport of the rifle firing filled the air and I watched and waited for the bullet to impact its target. My heart raced as it seemed like it took an eternity for the bullet to hit. I saw the buck jump and then fall down, knowing my shot had been true and accurate. We stood there watching and waiting before approaching the deer. Finally we stood over him admiring the size and the rack that was his crown. I looked at my father who was standing there with a big smile on my face. My first kill of my life and the knowledge that it was something that my father and I would be able share forever made it even more important. We soon had field dressed the deer and were then pulling it back up the small knoll and back towards our house. The width of the railway bed and the people that had traveled along it had kept the vegetation from getting a hold and growing over it. I pulled and tugged to get up over every rise in the trail and finally I could see that we were almost there. I saw my brothers coming towards us now with all terrain vehicles that we could use to load up the deer and ride back to the house on. This hunting trip was special as it was the last trip that my father and I would ever make together. Time never fit right for us to get together again. I still have the pictures that I turn to every once in a while and relive that day in my memories. Now that my father is gone and I can no longer listen to the hunting stories he would tell I know that he was surely proud of me on that day. (C) Tall Mountain Dreamer August 23, 2007