The Book Dropoff That Almost Didn't Happen

Note: For the last 2 months I have been touring Northern and Central Calif., visiting fire stations, dropping off copies of Out of the Fire and talking with the fire fighters. These blogs posts are in their honor and will deal with some fire fighting issues.
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Brian Morrision, Captain at the Bridgeville CDF station (Humboldt Co.) emailed me this message:
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David Hobbs,
Thanks for dropping off the book here at the Bridgeville CDF station. I was a bit surprised to find it on my desk in my office, but I did leave the door unlocked…. and most folks are honest.
I attended Humboldt State from 1975 to 1980. I knew Fred Cranston and I too sang in the Humboldt chorale with Lee Barlow directing. Again and again I read your description of events that also occurred in my life. Fire, college and life hasn’t changed all that much. It seems we all face similar challenges, I’m glad you found such a successful path.
Other firefighters are waiting to read your book. It will go in the library with the other “fire” books when they are finished.
Thank you,
Brian Morrison
Captain, Bridgeville CDF
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I responded back to Brian:
Hey Brian,
Thanks for the email. Sorry about intruding into your office, but I wanted to be sure it would get to you.
Amazing that we have had so many similar experiences! Fred Cranston just passed away two years ago. He went suddenly. I had been in touch with him and sent him a copy of the book which he read. He put it in the mail to send to his daughter Carol but before she received it, he died.
I went on to say:
I’ve been sitting here wracking my brains trying to remember where your Bridgeville Station is (I’ve hit about 170 stations in 2 months). Suddenly it dawned on me—Eureka! There is more to the story!
Here was the rest of the story, how he almost didn’t get the book, but for a little divine intervention:
It was late in the afternoon on the day I was heading to my friend Ron’s house in Fortuna (the Ron in the book). I thought I had hit every fire station between Red Bluff and Fortuna, when I crossed a bridge over the Eel River with a little town off to the side. The highway went on, but suddenly there was this fire station sign. I didn’t really want to detour, but “might as well.” However, I couldn’t find the fire station. I quickly drove through the little town. On the other side was a picture sign of a fire truck—that means the station is within 100 yards. However, still no station. I was praying of course, asking God to help me find it. The road narrowed and started winding up a hill—no room for a fire station up here or even a house. I turned around and came back down. There was the fire station sign from the other direction. The only thing in between the signs was a driveway into a parking lot with some big buildings in the back. I turned in and checked it out but it turned out to be a school. Everything was deserted. As I was turning around in the parking lot, about to give up and go on, a woman came out of the only house on the other side of the parking lot and sat down on the porch stairs to read a book. What the heck? I rolled down the passenger window as I was cruising past and shouted out, “Is there a fire station around here?” To my surprise she responded immediately that there was, that I needed to turn around again and take an unmarked gravel driveway at the far end of the parking lot. This driveway led over a little bridge, through some trees, up a rise and suddenly, there was the station and its compound, tucked in the woods above the river, out of sight from the road and the parking lot. Voila! After I had dropped off a copy of the book and was on my way out, the woman was nowhere to be seen. “Wow. God must have sent her out just at the right time in response to my prayers!” I thought.
So there you have the rest of the story. If it wasn’t for my prayers and that woman, you wouldn’t have the book to read today. Amazing huh?
Some people don’t believe in a God who answers prayer and would say about this story, “What a coincidence!” But I’ve noticed the more I pray, the more “coincidences” I have.
-David Hobbs-

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