I recall one day when there was racial discrimination here in the south, I was sitting in a fire chief's front office waiting for him to return from lunch. While I was sitting there killing time an old black lady walked by accompanied by a little boy who I assumed was her grandson.

From my position I could see and hear them, but they couldn't see me. The two of them stopped and when the kid spotted the recently shined and polished equipment he squealed out in amazement, hopped around and carried on like it was his first trip to town and that he had never seen a fire station or a truck before.

As he was carrying on like it was Christmas morning, the old lady looked down at him smiling and said, "someday you'll be driving one of those big shiny red trucks." The little boy looked up at her beaming all over and said. "Do Ya really think so grandma, do Ya really think so?"

How true those old lady's words were, as a few years later that department hired it's first Afro American firefighter and not long after my department hired it's first black state arson investigator who was one of the best and most dedicated men we had.