I made a long ride down the beach front yesterday. Both directions. It was my annual Thanksgiving Day Turkey
Delivery to all the fire stations. One
of the reasons we fry so many turkeys every year is so we can deliver some of
that fried tasty succulence to the fire fighters who are working on the
holiday. Many have to be away from
family, so a little extra flavor never hurt anyone. The guys shared a little about the
Thanksgiving – and Friendsgiving – holidays they had either already been a part
of or were waiting to celebrate in the day or two to come when they got off
shift. They were also happy to be
celebrating with their comrades in the fire service. I also tried to add a little prayer to the
mix before I left. The guys always seem
to appreciate it.
My first stops on the turkey tour were the
stations located farthest west, in Sea Isle, then Pirate’s Beach. Then I made my way back all the way east to
the station near UTMB. From there I went
to the main station downtown, followed by station five on Broadway and finally
station four at the airport.
Among the most unexpected things I saw in my
journey came at station one. The fire
crew was out on a call, so I went on in to put the turkey in the fridge. I had forgotten, however, that an EMS crew
was also in that station. And to my
surprise, it was the medics who were working in the kitchen instead of the usual
fire crew. They even made a crack about
their interloping presence. But they
were creating Food Channel worthy platter presentations of fruit and meats and
cheeses. I couldn’t even pronounce the names
of some of the meats that they were meticulously rolling up. And one of them offered me a homemade
candy-ish cookie. Delicious. I got another taste of homemade cookie delight
at station four. That’s where I got to
watch the turkey they were preparing for their evening meal being
injected. The sous chef handled that
injector like he was starting an IV. Well,
like he was trying to start an IV and was having an extremely difficult time
finding a vein. Bad in the first
responder world, perfect in the fire department kitchen.
Several of the fire fighters, also asked
about Nathan and how he was doing at his new job. One guy said, “You know how some guys leave
and you are pretty much glad they are gone?”
I understand that emotion, but wondered where this was going. He continued, “Well that’s just not
Nate. He is missed.” Thanks for that encouragement, my friends.
So on to the beach front. The replenished beach behind the seawall was
well in evidence as the tides were some of the lowest of the season. And it was pretty early in the morning, so
there were very few people out just yet.
I saw the usual beachcombers here and there. And I saw the expected joggers taking
advantage of the cool morning. A few
families were shell hunting. But there
were two things that caught my eye.
First was a cluster of six or eight people
gathered together on the sand … doing yoga.
Great poses and stretches. I
could almost feel my bones crackling and my muscles straining. More power to you guys. And just down the beach from that group was
another. These four or five people all
had something in common. Very large
dogs. I mean large as in
mastiff-looking. Couldn’t tell for sure
because I was so far away, but either those were some of the biggest dogs I
have ever seen, or some of the shortest people.
They seemed to be engaged in a doggie training class. Lots of luck with that one, guys.
And finally I returned home. Cailyn was there, and Sam from church soon
arrived. The four of us had a quiet and
Thanksgiving meal together. And after an
afternoon of football (Ouch, Cowboys), Josh and his crew arrived for
Thanksgiving meal number two. Today we
add Kel’s bunch to the mix. Let the more
active part of the holidays begin …
John 3:17 says, “For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but
to save the world through him.”
Father, watch over the first responders as
they return to their families today.
Draw those families close to each other and to you. Amen.
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