Serendipity

I just love that word. I am by no estimation wealthy in the traditional sense of the word. I have, however, had a wealth of serendipitous occasions in my time here. These two pics illustrate one such occasion. My maternal grandfather, Pop, always hung the moon for me, and I'd like to think I did for him. But that's a story for another time. He left this world just a tad over thirty years ago, and I still miss him every day. Anyways, this first pic is something he showed to me when I was a young kid. Always full of questions, I asked how he got it. He just kinda chuckled, and said that it was not an easy thing, and I knew him well enough to know that further questioning wouldn't do a damn bit of good. After he passed, it came to my home, and has been with me everywhere I have lived since then. I can touch it right now, without moving from this chair. Here is a pic.




Hard to tell scale from the photo, so here are the measurements. It's 16 inches tall, and measures 14 inches wide at the base of the leather handles. It's made of solid brass by the Fabric Fire Hose Company of New York. It's heavy as hell, and it woulda took a good man to hold and aim it with water pressure behind it. The little insets show where it is stamped "PFD 2". That stands for Potomac Fire Department. Now "fire halls" as they are called back home, in the high Alleghenies, have always been centers of social activity. Men traditionally go "up the firehall" to play cards and drink beer at night, and on weekends. They are the site of community suppers to raise money for neighbors in need, church organizations, and even the fire company itself. Community dances were always held there, and still are. They are one thing that helps to hold communities together, in a place where life is all too often a hardscrabble affair. In fact, Hardscrabble was the original pre-revolutionary war name of the little trading post that sprung up at the confluence of George's Creek and the North Branch of the Potomac. My Pop spent a fair amount of his free hours at the firehall, as did a large portion of the male population. I treasure the nozzle, as I do everything I have to remind me of him. I love to do genealogy, because it helps to make history personal. My family has been in that area, since the first settlers pushed their way on to the frontier. A group of like-minded folks established a MyFamily site, just for all us folks from the Tri-Towns, to help each other with research, keep those of us no longer there up on the place, and as a place to post old photos that any of us may find interesting. Imagine my surprise when I came across this one.




It is Potomac Fire Department #2, taken in 1925. They are justifiably proud of their state of the art engine. They have their spanking new, state of the art nozzles proudly displayed on the running board near the front of the engine. But do you see what immediately caught my eye? There, just in front of the name "Potomac", with a slight lean she still has to this day, is my nozzle! If that ain't serendipity, I damn sure don't know what is.