As a little boy, my husband Walter had always dreamed of being a fireman. The danger, the excitement, the feeling of heroism seemed to make his eyes glow. He was never able to fulfill his childhood dream until recently, on our way back from a Dallas run. We dropped in Plano in the morning and went to the Dallas T.A. for breakfast and some well-needed sleep. We slept a few hours, then decided to head back home to Atlanta.
On our way, we stopped at a truck stop in Terrell, TX to take a break.
We wandered around inside for a while, then decided to head back out to
the truck. As we walked into the parking lot,
we noticed a woman with a small dog in her arms. She seemed frantic about
something, and we could hear her shouting. She spotted us coming her way,
so she ran up to us and gasped, "Do you have a fire extinguisher?" Only
then did we notice her husband was nervously trying to unhook their camper
from their truck. There was thick gray smoke billowing out from the underside
of their truck. Apparently, their spare tire mounted underneath the truck
bed had caught fire from the exhaust pipe. Walter ran for the truck to
get our fire extinguisher. As he was trying to get the door unlocked, a
woman bystander near me said, "They'd better get those propane tanks away
from the flames. They could blow any minute." Walter unlocked the door,
then we struggled to unhook the fire extinguisher. The fire extinguisher
broke free, and Walter rushed to the frantic couple and put the fire out.
There were sighs of relief from bystanders and glowing praise from the
grateful couple. "Please let us do something for you in return. We appreciate
your help so much!" they exclaimed. "No, don't worry about it," Walter
replied. "I'm just glad I could help." I smiled as Walter came back to
the truck, filthy from the extinguisher and the smoke. "My hero!" I cooed
as he looked at me with a proud boyish smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
