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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Fear

By David Hobbs

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 fire fighters. These next few blog posts are in their honor and will deal with some fire fighting issues.

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Every fire fighter at some point comes face to face with the fear of fire. Fire is a powerful force, much stronger than anything we have to counter it. For a big fire, the best we can hope for is to contain it--stopping its spread--and let it burn itself out. When fire is on the move, our best efforts are worthless. It does what it wants to do and goes where it wants to go and woe to the man who gets in its way! Anything in its path is consumed.
During the Indian Ridge Fire in my first year (“The Big One” p. 42), I had seen the awesome power of fire firsthand, but from a distance. It wasn’t until Year 4 (“Blowup!” p. 153) that I met that power up close and personal and was forced to flee for my life, escaping death by seconds, not minutes. As I recalled at the end of that chapter, that encounter left an imprint of horror on my soul. From then on I was forced to deal with that fear in any big fire situation. And fear has a way of paralyzing you--your mind especially--so you can’t make sound decisions.
It’s funny to be around small children and see them react with unreasoning fear over very minor events, like a spider or a bug. My oldest son Joe, when he was little, had this extreme fear of touching the sand when we went to the beach. We had to carry him out and set him on a blanket. If his feet touched the sand he would scream and writhe like he was immersed in acid!
But it’s not so funny when it happens to us as adults. There were several times in Out of the Fire where the fear caused me to do funny things. On a fire on the Goosenest District in year 4 (“Goosenest Inferno” p. 170), the fire was crowning through a thicket of young pines on fairly level ground in open country with a mix of grassland, brush, and young trees. Even after an air tanker had drenched the thicket with a direct hit, I was still afraid to go in there, so we started busting up sod out in the grassland trying to construct a line tied in with the dirt road. (For another instance, see “Lack of Ability or Lack of Guts?” p.197.)
Making the problem worse is that for the most part we are afraid to talk about it or admit to it. We have to maintain this macho image like nothing ever moves us.
But there were other times in life I was also afflicted by fears: like times alone in my house out in the country (p. 251) when I wondered what would happen if my heart just stopped beating. It was beyond my control. I wasn’t making it beat. So what if it just stopped, then what? Or the time out on the highway bridge over the raging Klamath River at night when people were joking about pushing each other off the bridge into the flood (pp.313-314) and I realized with horror that that would bring about not only my physical death but eternal death beyond anything I could imagine.
I did have some small success dealing with my fear of fire (see “Over the River and Through the Woods” [p.264+]) but later discovered it was still there lurking in the background (“Hell’s Canyon” [p. 299]). It was a partial fix, like when I quit smoking: I quit smoking cigarettes, but several years later took up the pipe.
It wasn’t until meeting Jesus that I got some real help dealing with fear. First, because He died for me, I didn’t have the fear of death and its eternal consequences. Now even if my body died, my spirit would go right to be with Him. Death lost its terrors. The Psalm writer in Psalm 22 refers to walking “through the valley of the shadow of death.” Death for the Christian is merely a dark shadow that he passes quickly through from this life to the glory on the other side.
But there is also an antidote to fear in this life. The Bible says that perfect love drives out fear (1 John 4:18). When God’s love for us is poured out in our hearts, it sends fear packing. If God is for us, who can be against us? (Romans 8:31). For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). I found that through Jesus I could face my fears. And facing them is usually the greatest step towards overcoming them.
And the third thing is that in Jesus the code of silence is broken. We no longer have to labor to maintain that image of invincibility. As Christians we are surrounded by brothers and sisters just as broken as we are, who love us unconditionally and make it safe to talk about our deepest fears and insecurities without fear of rejection, exposure, mocking or scorn. Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed (James 5:16).