Page 35 - some-stuff-i-wrote-and-some-stuff-i-didn't-(2011)-h-morris-williams
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Some Stuff I Wrote and Some Stuff I Didn't (2011) H. Morris Williams







                 Column July 25, 2010


                 JOANNA. “CHILD OF THE FIRE CHIEF”


                 Joanna Adicks Wallace  (CHS  1952) was  both the daughter and the
                 granddaughter of Lake City’s first two fire chiefs.  Here are some of
                 her memories excerpted from her memoir, “Child of the Fire Chief.”


                 “It was an  exciting  life to  be the young  daughter of the  Fire Chief in
                 Lake  City.  Besides  learning  how  to  ride  a  bike  in  the  long,  wide,
                 curved driveway at the fire station,  my brother Richard and I enjoyed
                 roller-skating there with our friends.


                 “Sometimes we would go inside the firehouse and  watch Daddy play
                 Solitaire  while  he  waited  for  the  next  alarm.  When  that  alarm
                 sounded, he suddenly charged into action with all his strength.


                 “Sometimes when  Richard  and  I  and  our  little  neighborhood  friends
                 were playing in the front yard at home, we would hear the sound of a
                  huge truck coming  up on that quiet street and we knew it was Daddy
                  driving up in the big red fire truck— and we knew it was the day to gas
                  up the big engine.


                  “He would stop at the curb and shout out,  “Climb up!" and all us kids
                  would scramble up and sit inside the curled-up fire hose on the back
                  of the truck.  Sometimes one of us would  be  lucky  and  get to sit on
                  the front seat with Daddy.


                  “The kid  in the front seat was allowed to ring the fire truck’s big  loud
                  bell as we rode to the gas station.
                  It must have been pretty frightening to the residents of our sleepy little
                  town to hear the fire bell’s loud clanging as we rode down Lake City’s
                  quiet streets.


                  “While the truck was being gassed up, we would be given a chance to
                  turn the handle on the motor that made the siren go.  We would see
                  who could turn the handle fastest to make the siren sound really loud.


                  “If  Daddy  was  home  eating  lunch  when  the  siren  at  the  station
                  sounded,  our whole family would jump  up from the table,  run for the






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