It is great to see my son take joy in exploring an old fire engine.

I remember being amazed at their sheer size when I was his age. My dad was, for a short time, a volunteer fire fighter in a small town. I remember going over to the fire hall across the street from our house to see the trucks. They were both magnificent and scary all at once. I remember loving to look at all the chrome and red paint; parked in the garage close together they looked like so many rolling sky scrapers. As they sat there silently I new just how loud they could be. What brought them to life and how they operated was one of the great mysteries of my young minds universe.