Hrothgar-

This thread has got me thinking about stories from the rescue crews, what we call "first responders" in my part of the world. A favorite story has to be from when a little boy fell through the ice here in Maine many years ago, and fortunately a young man had been walking by the pond at the time, and was able to plung in and pull him out. He managed to wrap the boy up in his mackinaw, which fortunately he had removed before diving in, found out where the boy lived, and carried him two and a half miles through the snow to the house. He pounded on the door, beginning to freeze himself by this time, and was greatly relieved when the mother opened it. He explained what had happened and she gave him a sharp look and hustled her son inside and slammed the door in his face. He was some surprised but there wasn't anything to do but make his way, another mile or so, back to his own house where he began to warm himself before the potbelly stove. Well about 20 minutes later he heard a knock on the door, and there was the mother who asked, "Are you the young man who rescued my son from the ice pond?" "Yes, I'm the one," he said, thinking that she was here to thank him for his efforts. "Well, where are his mittens?"

Cheerily,
Charley Noble