Fire trucks, fire trucks, fire trucks!!!! Collin loved fire trucks. When he was three his Grandma, and I took him to the Hall of Flame Firefighters Museum in Phoenix. He absolutely loved it and could talk about nothing else all night. Of course, on his birthday everyone in the family bought him some kind of fire truck and on Halloween Grandma bought him a fireman’s costume complete with helmet, boots, and a yellow coat. We took him to our neighborhood firehouse, and the captain lets him sit in the driver’s seat of the hook and ladder. I guess it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when, one evening about nine o’clock, while Collin was staying with us, that Collin himself received an urgent phone call. It was our district fire chief. “Collin,” he said, “we’re battling a four-alarm fire upon Navaho Ridge”! We desperately need your help right now!” Collin grabbed his helmet, coat, and boots and was out the door.