by T. K. Chapin
Walking into the activity center, I made my way to Chris and Elly’s table. Sitting down with a heavy sigh, I smiled over at the both of them.
“Congratulations on a hundred and fifteen years of operation,” Chris said.
“Same to you,” I replied with a smile.
We enjoyed food, music and guest speakers that evening. It was enjoyable, but I longed for my Ally as the seat next to me was empty. A night like this was especially hard, as she was so instrumental back when the Silverback really began taking off. She was the greatest love of my life and I’ll love her until I take my final breath. My memories of her, the kids and our life help get me through occasions like this day.
The air in the banquet hall was becoming rather stuffy, so I excused myself for a fresh breath of air. Making my way out the doors and outside, I looked up at the night sky and marveled at the stars. They never change, just like God, and I took comfort in that fact.
“He does some amazing work, doesn’t He?” Chris said, joining my side outside.
“He sure does,” I replied, smiling.
We began walking down the path that led out to the main road and I turned to Chris. “I want to be buried out here on the lake.”
“Yeah? Next to Ally in the plot along the old walking path we used to hike on, right?”
“Yes.”
“I already assumed this, since Ally is there, Dylan,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
“I just wanted to make sure.”
“You planning on exiting soon?” Chris asked with a laugh.
“Not planning, but I won’t stop it if it comes,” I replied smiling.
As we made it out to the road, we turned back around and started heading back over the bridge. “You want to race? Like the good ol’ days?” I asked.
Chris smiled over at me and laughed. “Yeah, sure. I might have you beat now though.”
I took off in a sprint--well it wasn’t more than a wobble with my cane, and Chris followed suit. His lack of cane allowed him a faster pace and he passed me with ease. As we came to a stop, we both began laughing.
“Guess you finally beat me,” I said, panting heavily.
He laughed as he patted my shoulder. “That I did! It only took until you were a cripple to do it!”
I stood up, took a deep breath and smiled. Going back into the celebration party, I said my goodbyes to all my children and retired back to my cabin, for my little race with Chris had exhausted me.
Finding my bed all too inviting, I lay down and took a deep breath. Looking up at the ceiling, I closed my eyes and prayed quietly to myself.
Dear heavenly Father, thank you for the life I have lived. The people I have met and the family I have raised. It’s through faith in you that this amazing life I’ve lived has been possible. I love you and thank you for everything. Amen.
Letting myself slip into a slumber, I recalled the memories of Ally and me when we handed over the operations of the inn to Sammy and Olivia. It was back twenty years ago when we did it and right after it happened, Ally and I bought an RV. We traveled all over the United States together. Sometimes we got lost, sometimes we didn’t, but each road led us somewhere new. And as I fell deeper into my slumber that night, I could feel myself on a new road. Eternity. And I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, relaxation and love overwhelm me in that final moment.
The End.
Sneak Peek – Amongst The Flames
Prologue
Fire. Four letters, two vowels and one reaction. That reaction depends on who you are. For me and the fellas at Station 9 in downtown Spokane, our reaction is one of quickness, speed and precision. A few seconds delay could mean someone’s life. We don’t have time to think, only do. And we don’t do this for the recognition or because it’s just some job, we do it because this is what we were born to do.
My resume, if I had one, would only say one thing on it: Firefighter. I’m one of those guys that you don’t really think about unless something has gone terribly wrong. Usually it’s when your house is on fire.
I won’t bore you with the countless calls where we just show up with our lights on and we’re just there to support the police and ambulance. I’m sure you’ve seen us sitting across the street quietly once or twice while they wheel Mrs. Johnson out on a gurney to the ambulance at three o’clock in the morning. I also won’t explain to you the hundred calls a year we get on burning popcorn in a kitchen. No. This story I’m going to share with you is not only about the worst fire I had ever seen in my life, but it’ll also encompass how important God is, not only in marriage, but in life.
This is not a story you’ll find on the front page of your local newspaper while you’re sipping your morning cup of coffee. You also won’t catch it on the ten o’clock news. Nope. Instead, it’s a story that will inspire you to look at life differently and challenge you to believe that with God even the worst fire you face is nothing in comparison with His power, grace and mercy.
Belief in God is not really an option for me when I run into burning buildings to save lives. It’s a core fundamental building block of who I am. I won’t sit here and tell you that I’m a perfect Christian though; that would be a lie. Soon enough you’ll read about my plethora of issues and flaws amongst the pages that follow. What I will do is stay true to the truth the best that I can. I’m not telling this story to make a record of my sins or those of others. I’m giving you this story to give you hope. Hope of a brighter tomorrow that you can look forward to, hope of a world where acceptance isn’t only preached, but it’s applied alongside the scriptures to our lives.
I am Cole Taylor and this is my story.
CHAPTER 1
Walking down an aisle in the grocery store with Kane, Micah and Greg one morning at about eight o’clock I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I caught Kane checking out a pretty brunette a few aisles over in the bakery.
“Always on the prowl, aren’t ya?” I asked smiling over at him. Kane was the station’s notorious single twenty-three-year-old male with nothing but women on his mind. He once admitted to me that he bought a full set of turnouts online from an ex-fireman just so he could suit up in a full fireman outfit for a girl.
“She’s cute,” Kane replied with a half-grin on his face. He shot another look over at her and his smile grew.
“Maybe she can bake you a cake or something?” Greg said with a soft but sarcastic tone as he grabbed a box of pasta from the shelf. Greg was one of the quieter guys on the crew.
Micah and I erupted in laughter. Kane smiled and said, “I’m sure there’s more to her than that.”
“How would you even know that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just a hunch, I know about these things.”
“Well, at least you know she has a sweet side,” Micah added. Kane laughed a little as he pushed the cart down towards the end of the aisle.
On the way over to the meat section of the store, a man with furrowed eyebrows made a bee line for us. Leaning into Kane’s ear, I said, “Move the cart out of his way.” Kane did, but it didn’t help. The elderly gentleman shifted his footing to line up with our cart as he continued towards us.
Arriving at us, the man latched his worn hands to each side of our cart and demanded in a sharp tone, “What are you doing here?”
“Same as most people here, just grocery shopping… you?” Kane asked, crossing his arms as he released his grip from the cart.
“Are you on the clock right now?” the man asked. He shot a quick look at each of us individually as if we were caught in some kind of predicament.
“Yeah,” I replied, stepping in front of Kane and up to the gentleman. I knew I needed to get between them before Kane did something stupid. His fuse was short when it came to people who didn’t respect firefighters. For instance, there was a call one time that Kane and I were on where the man whose house was on fire started complaining to us about how long it took us to respond. Kane took his revenge inside the home when he used the butt of his
axe to smash the guy’s big screen TV.
“Is there a problem going on in the store we should know about?” Micah asked, looking over my shoulder at the man. Micah was my best friend at the station and he was always looking for the best in people no matter what the situation appeared to be.
“Yeah, matter of fact there is a problem ya chump! And I’m looking right at it,” he shouted, raising his hands from the cart. I looked back at Kane as I knew the comment would set him off. Catching his gaze before he said anything, I could see Kane trying to keep his mouth shut. That little stunt he pulled at that fire by smashing the guy’s TV landed him with a suspension without pay.
Micah raised his hands. “We’re just trying to get to some supplies, Sir.”
“Yeah– he’s right. We don’t want any trouble, Sir. We need to keep moving.” I grabbed onto the cart and began walking past the disgruntled citizen.
“This is how my tax dollars is spent, huh?” He asked as he laughed sarcastically, shaking his head at us. “I’m filing a complaint with your station!” he said from behind us. He must have been looking at the back of our fleece pullovers as he continued, “Station 9… Who’s in charge over there?”
“Thomas Sherwood and Sean Hinley are our Captains and Paul Jensen’s the Chief,” I said over my shoulder to him.
“I’ll be calling them right away!” he shouted.
We all three managed to keep our cool and made it over to the meats. As we came up to the bunker with steaks and stopped, Kane said, “We risk our lives, yet people still find a reason to complain… What is with that?” He glanced back at the angry man as he appeared to now be arguing with a grocery store worker.
I turned to Kane. “Do you do this job because you want people to think you’re a hero?”
“No…” he replied softly. “But that kind of thing just isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not right,” I agreed. “But we don’t do this to impress people, Kane. You know that. We do this job because it’s our duty and we do it to protect the people of Spokane. We serve them, no matter how poorly we get treated.”
“Cole’s right, man,” Micah said with a nod. “We can’t let people like him get in our head.”
“We can’t let them undermine our reasons for doing this,” Greg added.
“I just find honor in what we do and someone like that just bugs me.”
“I know it does,” I replied putting a hand on his shoulder. “And thank you for not saying anything to him.” I turned back to the steaks. “What cut do we want boys?” I asked.
Suddenly dispatch came over all our radios for a fire at the Canyon Creek Apartments on South Westcliff. We all four began sprinting for the front doors. My heart began pounding as adrenaline coursed through every one of my veins. Weaving between the aisles and shopping carts, we made our way outside. Spotting a cart boy on the way through the parking lot, I stopped and told him about our cart in the back of the store. He thanked me and I headed over to the truck.
Micah jumped into the driver seat. He was the ladder company’s engineer and that meant the man behind the wheel. Greg sat up front with Micah; his role varied and depended much on what was needed on each call. Kane and I were the guys who did search and rescue, cut power and helped with ventilation cuts on the roof.
As Kane and I suited up in the back, Kane asked, “Did you see that chick in the bakery look concerned as we dashed out of there?”
I laughed. “No, didn’t catch that,” I said, pulling up my suspenders across the front of my chest.
“When we go back later I’m going to go talk to her. Bet I can get those digits,” he replied as he slid his Nomax head and neck protector over his eyes. “I’ll for sure get her number.”
“She could be married,” I replied.
“Nah, I saw her left hand when she was putting out donuts in the window earlier.”
I laughed. “Wait… what ever happened to that Heidi girl? I almost completely forgot about her.”
“He got bored of her,” Micah said over his shoulder to us. “He can’t seem to stay interested in one gal; you know that.”
“Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the road?” Kane retorted.
“Really though, man, what happened?” I asked, looking over at Kane.
“Just didn’t work out,” Kane said as he shrugged.
We slowed down as we arrived at the scene. Glancing out my window, I could see the fire had already engulfed much of the apartment complex and I felt another surge of adrenaline. I was excited and yet terrified out of my mind of the unknown that lay before me. It was that way every time we got a call.
Glancing at the other fire truck on scene, I saw Thomas Sherwood, the shift captain of station 9 and my father-in-law. He was already on scene along with the other guys who rode over on the engine truck. They were already about done hooking up the hose to the hydrant as we came to a complete stop. Leaping from my seat, my feet barely hit the pavement before the captain reached me.
“We need a grab on the second floor,” he shouted. “There’s a four year old girl in apartment one-forty-two.” My heart felt like it skipped a beat as I looked up at the roaring flames. Saving lives wasn’t anything new for me, but I never could get used to it. Even after ten years of service, every time lives were at stake it was difficult, especially when the lives of children were involved.
“Got it,” I replied as I grabbed my oxygen tank from the side of the truck and secured it onto my back. Grabbing my axe and Halligan bar, I turned as I pulled my mask over my face and put on my helmet. A hand on my shoulder stopped me from heading directly to the building.
“And, Cole,” the captain said as I turned around.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Be careful in there, I don’t have the energy to explain to my daughter how her husband died today.”
“No worries, you haven’t had to yet,” I replied. Turning, I looked at the apartment entrance and saw the black smoke billowing out the front door. I jogged up to the door and as I entered, I saw Rick, starting the exterior attack on the fire from outside with his hose in hand. He was spraying down the nearby building so it would not catch on fire. I gave him a nod. Rick Alderman was one of the veterans on the crew. It was he, Micah and I for the past ten years at fire station 9. Kane came on a couple years after me and the others all were fairly new, each under five years. The older vets from the old days when I first started —like Hillman and Conrad— moved away and transferred to other stations. But no matter who came or went, when we were on the scene we were like that of a brotherhood. No man left behind, ever.
Coming inside the burning building, I immediately noticed the extreme temperatures inside. It wasn’t typical, a bit warmer than I was used to. I pushed the sensation of being trapped in a furnace out of my mind as I ventured in further. I trekked through the black smoke and up the stairs in search for the child. My jacket was failing to keep the high temperatures of the heat from my skin and the burning was digging in. Ignoring common-sense reactions to extreme situations is a requirement that they don’t advertise in the job description. Who in his right mind after all would run into a burning building, on purpose?
My visibility was low at the top of the stairs inside. The charcoal-black smoke was thick and filled every square inch. Seeing a door within reach, I came up to it. Squinting, I could see it read ‘one forty four.’ It wasn’t the one I needed. I trudged through the ever-thickening smoke as the heat gnawed at my skin until I found the apartment I needed. One-forty-two. Relieved, I grabbed for the door knob, but found it locked. Taking a few steps back, I launched a kick to the door that would have impressed an MMA fighter, but it wasn’t enough to make it budge. I brought my halligan front side and stuck it right between the door and the frame. My skin continued to burn from the heat and my muscles screamed in pain as I pried open the door. Finally, it budged open.
Stepping through the smoke filled room, I shouted, “Fire department, Call out!” The sound of the roaring flames
and falling pieces of debris made it nearly impossible to hear anything else.
Lowering myself to the floor, I moved through the living room and reached a doorway. An explosion suddenly came from another part of the building. Covering my helmet, I braced myself for any falling debris. Continuing through the doorway and smoke, I noticed a smoldering teddy bear next to me. This must be the girl’s room, I thought to myself as I raised my head to survey the room. Trying to see through the smoke was difficult but I spotted a closet across the floor. I repeated, “Fire department, Call out!” as I inched my way over to the closet.
Getting to the closet, I found the little girl just about to lose consciousness. Ripping my mask off in a frenzy I shoved it over her face and said, “It is going to be okay, I’m going to get you out of here.” She struggled to breathe into the mask. Our breathing apparatuses weren’t so easy to use when not properly trained. “Just try to take small and short breaths,” I said.
I grabbed the little girl and held her close to my chest in my arms, using myself as a shield as I crawled back towards the doorway. Once back into the living room, I stood up for the rest of the journey out. But before I could reach the front door of the apartment, an explosion came from the kitchen. Covering the girl as much as possible and dropping to the floor, I protected her from the blast. But a piece of metal shot across the room from the explosion and hit me in the upper arm. I thanked God it was only my arm as I regained my footing and continued to the door with the girl. My adrenaline was pumping and my heart was pounding so hard that I had no idea how bad my wound was. As I came to the stairs that led out of the apartment, pain suddenly shot through my arm sending me collapsing to the top of the stairs.
Lying there I turned my head and looked down to the base of the stairs. I could see through the mostly faded smoke as Kane came rushing through the doorway and up the stairs to me. He was trying to talk, but a ringing sound deafened his words.
“Just get her out of here!” I shouted, trying to move the little girl out from my arms.
