Breaking the fire barrier - Callaway Courier

Page 2—Thursday, Sept. 20, 2012, The Callaway Courier
Meanderings
by Michael A. Wendorff
When we opened up our website last November, I
told you we were also looking at a photo gallery where
you could look at Courier pictures we have taken, order
color reprints and pay for them on-line with your
handy credit or debit card, and have them delivered to
your address. We had planned on doing so sooner but
later has already happened.
Yet, it is happening. As this is being written I’m
uploading all the usable pics we took of the Burwell
football game and there is a list of half a dozen others
files (sports, Kite Flight, etc.) that will follow it. We’ve
signed up for a gallery archive service for marketing.
It comes highly recommended by others in the photography
business as an easy way to present photos
and allow customers to buy without a great deal of
hassle. If you’ve ever sat in my office for hours on end
going through our archive CDs, you know it’s a long
and tedious process. It also tends to keep the editor
from doing his job while the computer is occupied —
not a big deal but this new service eliminates a great
deal of inefficiency.
There’s also that phenomenon called “Catching
Mike on the Street.” It goes like this: You saw a photo
you liked in the newspaper so you tell me you’d like to
order a reprint. I forget, you forget — another transaction
nipped in the bud. This way, a gallery file will
appear at our website a day or two after we go to press
(as I upload the files). You’ll be able to go on-line,
select from among the photos we have in the gallery,
crop and adjust for size, brightness, contrast, etc.,
from the basic pic, order the size, number of copies,
etc., and then buy them. All this from your own computer,
in the comfort of your own home, anywhere in
the world.
We’ve essentially gone live at this early date though
it’s going to take awhile to have everything I want to
be uploaded. There is a growing number of gallery
files going up. If you want to go look around, the address
is http://thecallawaycourier.zenfolio.com/. No
password is needed to access the gallery. You can buy
photos now at special low prices just to get you interested.
You will just have to fill out the necessary info
with our service to complete the transaction — you
know how on-line shopping works. It’s secure.
Of note, some of you will be nonplussed to find
a copyright symbol watermarked over each photo.
This is to deter thievery and will not appear on your
finished prints. Also, only Courier photos owned by
the Courier will be uploaded. Submissions from area
photographers belong to them and we won’t try to
make money off of their work.
And, when I figure how to do it, I’ll tie the Courier
gallery into our website on its own page. Again, you
will be able to get to it without passwords or paying a
fee. We’ll advertise more once I get it all figured out.
As I’ve mentioned before, we take hundreds of
pictures weekly. We only use a few in each issue
and store the rest. It’s such a waste that those pics
do not see the light of day. Not everything we take
is gold but you might spot, for example, a grandchild
in a photo you want to crop and have for your
own. I can’t guarantee every pic is worthy of zooming
and cropping but we’ll have enough out there
you will probably find the one you’re looking for. It
will be the same as if you came to the office to look
through our files but you get to make the adjustments
you want without relying on me to do it the
way you were thinking, or for me to get the time
to actually sit down to process and order them for
you. I’m excited about it, we hope you will be, too.
prize winning
newspaper 2012
Nebraska Press Association
The Callaway Courier
Michael & Suzanne Wendorff, Publishers
Correspondents: Mary Johnson, Oconto
Phone: (308) 836-2200, email: ccourier@gpcom.net
Volume 45, Issue 27 Thursday, Sept. 20, 2012
Established March 25, 1968. Published weekly at Callaway, Nebraska,
68825, Wednesday A.M. for Thursday A.M. delivery. Periodical Class
Postage paid at Callaway, Nebraska. Publication number: 085540.
Newspaper Policy
All Advertising and news copy must be in by no later than 9:30 a.m.
Tuesdays. We reserve the right to refuse any advertising or news
deemed not suitable for publication. The Callaway Courier cannot be
responsible for more than one incorrect insertion of either advertising
or news copy. Claims cannot be considered unless made within one
week from the date of publication. No allowances can be made when
errors do not materially affect the value of the advertisement. All letters
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Attention Postmaster For Change Of Address:
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Callaway, Nebraska 68825-0331
Editorial Page
The magnolias
I was getting ready for my
daughter’s June wedding which
was taking place in a church
about 40 miles away, and felt
loaded with responsibilities as
I watched my budget dwindle ...
So many details, so many bills,
and so little time.
My son Jack said he would
walk his younger sister down the
aisle, taking the place of his dad
who had died a few years before.
He teased Patsy, saying he’d
wanted to give her away since
she was about 3 years old!
To save money, I gathered
blossoms from several friends
who had large magnolia trees.
Their luscious, creamy-white
blooms and slick green leaves
would make beautiful arrangements
against the rich dark
wood inside the church.
The big day arrived — the
busiest day of my life — and
while her bridesmaids helped
Patsy to dress, her fiance Tim
walked with me to the sanctuary
to do a final check. When we
opened the door and felt a rush
of hot air, I almost fainted; and
then I saw them — all the beautiful
white flowers were black.
Funeral black. An electrical
storm during the night had
knocked out the air conditioning
system, and on that hot summer
day, the flowers had wilted and
died.
I panicked, knowing I didn’t
have time to drive back to our
hometown, gather more flowers,
and return in time for the
wedding and I certainly didn’t
have extra money to buy a new
set from the florist in town.
Tim turned to me. “Edna,
can you get more flowers? I’ll
throw away these dead ones
and put fresh flowers in these
arrangements.”
I mumbled, “Sure,” as he bebopped
down the hall to put on
his cuff links.
Alone in the large sanctuary,
I looked up at the dark wooden
beams in the arched ceiling.
“Lord,” I prayed, “please help
me. I don’t know anyone in this
Nelson said as the others
laughed.
Jorgenson, now a homemaker
whose husband Patrick
is also on the department,
said when the pagers go off
it’s now a race to get to the
door first. The last one out
has to find a baby-sitter for
their daughter. She also finds
the rush riding high on the
front platform of a grass rig
pushing through to the fire
line over hills and into canyons
and draws.
“If we would just let the
women do it, they’d do a
better job,” Patrick said later.
“They’re more meticulous.”
While most of the male
members of CVFD have
welcomed and accepted their
female counterparts, there
has been some resistance but
that’s changing, too.
“We’ve all proved ourselves
pretty well,” Hiatt said.
town. Help me find someone
willing to give me flowers — in
a hurry!”
I scurried out praying for the
blessing of white magnolias.
As I left the church, I saw
magnolia trees in the distance.
I approached a house — no dog
in sight — knocked on the door
and an older man answered. So
far so good. No shotgun. When I
stated my plea the man beamed
... “I’d be happy to!”
He climbed a stepladder and
cut large boughs and handed
them down to me. Minutes later,
as I lifted the last armload into
my car trunk, I said, “Sir, you’ve
made the mother of a bride very
happy today.”
“No, Ma’am,” he said. “You
don’t understand what’s happening
here.”
“What?” I asked.
“You see, my wife of 67 years
died on Monday. On Tuesday I
received friends at the funeral
home, and on Wednesday ...”
He paused. I saw tears welling
up in his eyes. “On Wednesday
I buried her.”
He looked away. “On Thursday
most of my out-of-town
relatives went back home, and
on Friday — yesterday — my
children left.”
I nodded.
“This morning,” he continued,
“I was sitting in my den
crying out loud. I miss her so
much. For the last 16 years, as
her health got worse, she needed
me. But now nobody needs me.
This morning I cried, ‘Who
needs an 86-year-old wore-out
Worth
Repeatin’
From the collection
of Pat Young
man? Nobody!’ I began to cry
louder. ‘Nobody needs me!’
“About that time, you
knocked, and said, ‘Sir, I need
you.’”
I stood with my mouth open.
He asked, “Are you an angel?” I
assured him I was no angel.
He smiled. “Do you know
what I was thinking when I
handed you those magnolias?”
“No.”
“I decided I’m needed. My
flowers are needed. Why, I might
have a flower ministry! I could
give them to everyone! Some
caskets at the funeral home have
no flowers. People need flowers
at times like that and I have lots
of them. They’re all over the
backyard. I can give them to
hospitals, churches — all sorts
of places. You know what I’m
going to do? I’m going to serve
the Lord until the day He calls
me home!”
I drove back to the church,
filled with wonder. On Patsy’s
wedding day, if
anyone had asked me to
encourage someone who was
hurting, I would have said, “Forget
it! It’s my only daughter’s
wedding, for goodness sake!
There is no way I can minister
to anyone today.”
But God found a way.
Through dead flowers. “Life is
not the way it’s supposed to be.
It’s the way it is. The way you
cope with it is what makes the
difference.”
* * *
On the porch
On the first day, God created
Women Joining Continued from Page 1
Oconto VFD also county female
members among its number
Female firefighters are not unique to Callaway Fire
and Rescue. Oconto Fire and Rescue has its compliment
of women who serve as both firefighters and EMTs.
“We’re not jumping on the bandwagon, we started
it moving,” said Oconto Fire Chief Cliff Badgley.
Vicki Hendricks has been a firefighter for Oconto
for a long time. She works at Callaway Good Samaritan
Center but responds when the pager goes of.
Christy Bryan is also a firefighter who has attended
fire school. She works in Kearney but is a valuable asset
during evenings and weekends.
As is Linnea Eggleston who is an EMT. Jan Rempe
is also an EMT and fights fires, too.
Badgley said they all do a great job. While Eggleston
and Rempe are primarily EMTs, they also help at fires
with whatever is needed from running a hose and shovel
to changing out air tanks or just handing out water from
the ambulance.
Badgley said in this day and age they are invaluable
additions to help keep the roster effectively manned
to respond in emergencies. This is particularly true
as many members on the department are getting up
there in years. Badgley has been on the department for
27 years and some have been members 40 years-plus.
When it comes time for someone to pick him up in the
ambulance, Badgley said he wonders who will be there
when he is too old to respond to a pager.
“It’s vital in a small town for women to get involved,”
he said. “They are very capable and ready to go anytime.
I’m just glad they want to do it.”
We’ve all gotten praise from
fire department members
who never, ever wanted a
female on the department.
Those who signed (the application
card) against us every
time have said blatantly they
would go on a fire with us any
day. That makes you feel good
that we did something right.”
Volunteer firefighters who
have not attended fire school
learn on the job first. All of
them said they listen to the
veterans, do as they are told,
and learn as they go along.
It’s been a hard summer
for grass fires so there has
been plenty of training for
everyone. Those first fires in
early July were more difficult
as mutual aid departments
struggled to work out an effective
system of command
and control while learning
how to coordinate getting in
front of the fire line in the most effective manner possible.
By the county line fire on
the Cozad Road, and the last
big fire in the cedar-choked
canyons and draws of the
Jenkins-Hagemeister fire
most recently, a coordinated
system is almost down pat.
The women have been
learning right along with the
rest of them.
But women in bunker
gear is still a rarity. There are
numerous departments still
female free and some who
plan on staying that way.
“When we were up at
Ainsworth, I had another
fireman come to me and ask
me, ‘What are you two ladies
doing out here?’, because we
were the only two, that I saw,
who were out there. And, he’s
like, ‘you two are just crazy.’
My response to that is we just
love what we do.”
It was Nelson’s first fire
and she was shocked at how
hot it was stuffed into bunker
gear in 100 degree temps and
fire besides. She had been up
12 hours and believes she was
a little overheated, too. It was
at the backfire line when reality
asserted itself.
“Her eyes got pretty big,”
Chief Jorgenson said with a
grin.
the dog and said, sit all day by
the door of your house and bark
at anyone who comes in or walks
past. For this I will give you a life
span of 20 years.
The dog said, “That’s a long
time to be barking. How about
only 10 years and I’ll give you
back the other 10?”
And God said that it was
good.
On the second day, God
created the monkey and said,
“Entertain people, do tricks, and
make them laugh. For this, I’ll
give you a 20-year life span.”
The monkey said, “Monkey
tricks for 20 years? That’s a
pretty long time to perform.
How about I give you back 10
like the dog did?”
And God again said that it
was good.
On the third day, God created
the cow and said, “You must go
into the field with the farmer all
day long and suffer under the
sun, have calves and give milk
to support the farmer’s family.
For this, I will give you a life span
of 60 years.”
The cow said, “That’s kind of
a tough life you want me to live
for 60 years. How about 20 and
I’ll give back the other 40?”
And God agreed it was
good.
On the fourth day, God created
humans and said, “Eat,
sleep, play, marry and enjoy
your life. For this, I’ll give you
20 years.”
But the human said, “Only 20
years? Could you possibly give
me my 20, the 40 the cow gave
back, the 10 the monkey gave
back, and the 10 the dog gave
back; that makes 80, okay?”
“Okay,” said God, “You asked
for it.”
So that is why for our first 20
years, we eat, sleep, play and
enjoy ourselves. For the next
40 years, we slave in the sun
to support our family. For the
next 10 years, we do monkey
tricks to entertain the grandchildren.
And for the last 10
years, we sit on the front porch
and bark at everyone.
Melissa Jorgenson rides the wind as Grass Rig 24 comes boiling
out of the smoke at the Unruh-Miller Fire on July 4.
But what about the physical
side. Tradition holds that
upper body strength is why
women should stay home
while men fight fires.
“It shouldn’t be that way,”
Melissa Jorgenson said. “If
you’re part of the department
everybody should help everybody
no matter what. There
are men on the department
who are probably smaller
than me but I can probably
lift more, and I can do more
than — I’m not saying I can
run faster that anybody.
There’s a lot of things that we
as women can probably outthink
— instead of lifting this,
maybe we can do this.”
It’s brutal, hot work and all
firefighters bouncing around
in rough country come home
dirty, bruised and exhausted.
Eight and 10 hours fighting
a fire is not uncommon this
year.
“You’re out there thinking,
‘I can’t do this anymore,
I can’t do this anymore,’ because
it’s so hot,” Hiatt said.
“But, you have the owner of
the land who just lost everything
out there thanking you
for what you did because it
could have been so much
worse.”
She also likes having
See “Women” on Page 3