There were also pictures in cheap frames put up here and there. They depicted the crew either formally arranged for an official photo or with arms thrown around each other’s shoulders in a line. There were also candid shots of everything from someone grinning while washing the fire truck or someone wearing a tee shirt that had a big “MFD” on the front and jeans, swinging a bat during a softball game.

Close to the truck there was firefighter-actually-fighting-a-fire gear (which Mickey told me was called bunker gear) set out and ready for men to jump into boots, pants and grab jackets and helmets.

They even had a shiny brass fire pole.

Which meant they had an upstairs, and although there were equipment rooms and a small bathroom downstairs, upstairs there were full showers with more stalls (Mickey called out for an all clear before we peeked in) as well as a workout room that was small and held mostly weight equipment.

There was also a dark room that had bunk beds (four of them, lined head to foot against the walls) another room with a beat up couch and a couple of even more beat up recliners, all facing a massive, old console TV I knew for certain didn’t provide HD. That room also had mismatched end tables with ring stains in the top of the wood, these dotted around for easy reach.

And last, there was a kitchen that had once been new and state of the art.

In 1956.

Now it was dinged up and old.

And even though the entire house was spic-and-span (this, Mickey explained was because the new guys had to go through a period of serving the station, the men testing their mettle in a variety of ways, including the duties of keeping the entire house, rig, equipment and gear performance ready and exceptionally clean), at its age, it couldn’t be anything but dingy.

I couldn’t spend a lot of time upset at the fact that, although their rig and gear seemed to be in good shape, the rest of the space was an afterthought. That these men spent a lot of time there, did that without pay and did it with the possibility they’d be saving lives, property and putting their own lives on the line. And because of that, they deserved at least a nice flat screen with HD and a microwave that didn’t look like it was the prototype before the prototype before the prototype they actually produced the year microwaves were introduced to the masses.

I couldn’t spend this time because Mickey introduced me to the crew.

There was Jimbo, the driver, who I’d already met.