@mysteryman,
Here is a true story, MM:
When I was a lad of about 10, I was in church on a Sunday morning. We had a totally volunteer fire department. Calls were sent out not by toning or texting, but by very large honking of a horn atop city hall. 1-2-2 meant the fire was in a certain neighborhood; 2-1-3 meant another.
The priest that Sunday was new. It may have been his first sermon. Barely into it, the horn went off. 8 men got up and left. The priest started over, but the horn went off again with the same code. Very loud.
Jim M, a stalwart of the church, a member of our VA House of Delegates, and the father of 8 sons, stuck his head in a side door of the church, and having exchanged his suit for fire fighting gear, caught the eye of one of his sons. Off went the 13-18 year old boys.
The priest tried again, but the horn went off and we began smelling smoke. He gave up.
The Woolworth's store was on fire on Main Street. And most of the other buildings adjacent were made of wood and in danger. The trained volunteer firemen did what they know what to do. But the M family boys and many others pulled hoses to hydrants or did whatever they were told to do by someone who they probably knew in some other capacity. Employer, employee. Whatever
