It was so much fun when we would visit the firehouse. The firemen were almost like uncles to us. Margaret spent many weekends at the home of one fireman, Bill Moclaire. He had a daughter who would have been Margaret's age but had passed away when she was about 3 from a heart defect.
My father drove the pumper and when the truck was washed, he would bring it to our house, load all the neighborhood kids in the back and take them for a ride while John & I sat up front. There was once a large fire a couple blocks from our house and my mother rushed us over there to watch them put the fire out. Three houses burned down that night. It was great to have Dad be a fireman but unfortunately, the salary was so poor at that time, that he had to work other jobs(landscaping, painting, handyman) on his days off. I know that he was making $8,000 a year when my uncle was making over $20,000 on the merchant ships.
I remember in Bellerose across the street and down a couple houses was an empty lot. Some kids must have set fire to the weeds one time and the engine from my Dad's house responded. It was a pretty small blaze and they just used the onboard water to put it out. My Dad took me over after it was out and had the guys let me work the nozzle. Damn, what a thrIll.
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