Thanksgiving Day. Around here that means fire department deliveries are in order. I started out early and headed to the station farthest west on the island, Sea Isle, to deliver a bag of fried turkey and wish the guys on duty a happy holiday. From there I stopped in Pirates Beach, followed by the long drive to the opposite end of the island and station two, which is near UTMB. After that I swung by station one downtown and station five on Broadway. My final stop was station four at the airport near our house. They are all always appreciative, and this year they all were particularly talkative. I had a great time.
As
I was leaving station five, I heard a call go out about a gunshot wound on …
Sycamore Drive. Wait. That’s my street. Sure enough, Lauren texted to check on
us, and I was passed by several police cars and a social services emergency
vehicle. Didn’t even know they had emergency vehicles. Come to find out, some
teenagers at the far opposite end of the street had been playing with a gun.
And that never ends well. Fortunately, the wound was a through and through in
the shoulder, so the kid was fine. Let’s keep that stuff away from our end of
the street, please.
Sam
came over and joined Chris and me for Thanksgiving Day lunch. Everyone else
will be here today. It was sure quiet. Well, except for the intermittent
thunder.
Josh
and his family pulled up in the early evening. About halftime of the Cowboys
game and just a few minutes into the second Great American Christmas movie of
the day.
Psalms 9:1 says, “I will give thanks to
you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.”
Father,
thank you for the safe trip you gave Josh and his crew through the
thunderstorms. Amen.
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