Firefighter's Museum

It’s really hard to do anything spontaneous around our house! My sweetie talks about how difficult it is to turn a big ship…that’s about how hard it is to switch directions and do something different around here. So it’s my last Friday morning to sleep in since Crafty, Sport, and Scout start school next week! I know, crazy, huh?! It’s because we are on year-round school here.

Anyway, after I rolled out of bed somewhere around 10:30 (shh…don’t tell), I decided maybe we ought to have one last hoo-rah for summer. After consulting with my sweetie, I shouted, “Field Trip!” to anyone within earshot and then I started pulling on my clothes. Five minutes later, I had everyone gathering, dressing, and making lunches. It took us about 35 minutes from the time my brain kicked in until we were loaded in the van and ready to go. Teach had to work, so sadly, she stayed behind…again…

We headed west to Tooele, where they have the Firefighter’s Museum. Even though my best friend worked hard to help set up this museum because her dad was an amazing firefighter, I have never had the opportunity to visit it. Maybe that’s because it’s only open on Fridays and Saturdays from 11:00 – 3:00. It took us about 45 minutes to get there. We unloaded the kids and the stroller and since there weren’t any other cars in the lot, I sent the Drama Queen to the door. She came back with a puzzled look on her face. “What’s the matter?” I asked as I settled Baby Doll into the stroller. “It’s closed due to illness…” she said. I was not happy with this turn of events, especially with the price of gas. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I suggested hopefully. She shook her head. “Nope!”

I pulled out my cell and called Bossy. They were a couple of miles behind us and were trying to find the turnoff. “Don’t bother,” I complained. “It’s closed due to illness.” “Are you kidding me?” Clearly her response was the same as mine. “I knew we should have called the number.” I guess I hadn’t read the paperwork very well because now it was my turn to be confused. “What number?” I asked hopefully as I began digging for my paper. Sure enough, there was a number for someone named Dave. I said goodbye to Bossy and punched the number into my cell. After 4 or 5 rings, Dave answered the phone. He asked me about my group, how many there were and what ages. After a minute or two he suggested that I try the door to the museum. He had opened it for me remotely. He cautioned me against letting the kids climb onto any of the vehicles except Grantsville One. He told me how to work the movie, and asked me to shut the doors tightly when we left. I couldn’t believe it! We had total freedom at the museum. I thought this kind of trust left with the ‘50s.

We wandered around for an hour or so, took pictures, and watched the movie. I saw my friend’s name on the “thank you” wall and we spotted her dad’s equipment in a display case. When we were ready to leave, I left a nice note for the curator and we carefully closed the doors. Who says you can’t do something spontaneously?! That curator did…he let in a group of 14 people after a simple phone conversation, and he made our day. Thanks, Dave!