When I was a kid, my dad was a volunteer fireman in Kirkland. We had a black box called a plectron in our home, which would squeal loudly when signaling a fire call. 

When it blew, Dad would jump up, throw on his shoes, jump in our car, turn on his emergency blue light, and race down Market Street to the fire department in downtown Kirkland, a little more than a mile from our home. Even in the middle of the night, he’d fly, throwing clothes on and running out into the dark night. 


Jennifer Kelly, a retired English teacher and resident of Warm Beach, can be reached at jnnfr.kelly@gmail.com.

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