It’s old Number Two fire engine in her new home, awaiting restoration.
I’m going to start this off by pointing out that you need to “define garage.” If we are talking “average homeowner’s garage, that’s pretty limited. But if we are talking airplane-hangar garage, well, then. We could fit anything in there, including our entire house. Of course, our house isn’t (yet) on wheels, but I often wonder if we might be better off if it were.
And another two from Garry. Being as this is a new car lot, I would guess that all of these would fit perfectly into any garage. All you need is the price of the ticket and a good relationship with your local bank.
PHOTOS OF OLD NUMBER TWO – THE FIRE ENGINE THAT COULD AND DID!
Photos by Marilyn and Garry Armstrong
Number Two started life in Milton and has moved around some. It finally, when it no long was able to do its job as a fire truck, came to rest in a field in Uxbridge, across the road from the post office. It just sat there, by the road. Every now and then, I’d stop by and take pictures of it and feel a bit sadder as it got older, more rusted, and started on what could only be a long road to the crusher.
FROM 2012 THROUGH 2016
One day, it disappeared. I was glad I’d taken so many pictures.
I knew it is an inanimate object. Just an old truck. Metal and glass and rubber. An engine that ceased running years ago. A fire truck whose time came and went. But these old vehicles worked hard and died in service. They are more than chunks of old metal. They are history. They’ve got soul.
They are packed with memories. Fires, rescues. The history of all the places they worked.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way because the countryside has many veteran trucks and other vehicles quietly rusting in fields, often keeping company with the growing corn and the grazing cows and sheep.
We invest our things with personality. Maybe we can’t help it. We are alive and we share at least the sense of life with those things with which we share our world. Then, yesterday, I got this note in my “contact box.”
I hope this finds you well. I saw those fantastic photos you took of Old Number 2, the Fire truck. I just wanted to let you know that Old number 2 may be gone from where you took those photos, but it lives on. I saved it from the scrapper back in November, and it still resides in Uxbridge, in the north end. I figured you’d like to know, seeing how fondly you wrote about it. I’m glad to know someone else cares about the truck like I do. It makes my efforts in giving it a new life much more meaningful.
Before I found this contact box I had tried messaging you through Facebook, so if you’d like to get in touch with me you can through there, or through my email.
Thanks for all those great photos of the truck through the years. They give me a great reference to show me which parts it had but were stolen over time. It makes my job of bringing it back to its old glory much easier.
So we had to go take pictures! There will be, I hope, many more to come. I hope we will see Number Two back on the road again … soon!
There are a lot more pictures and many more to be taken. I’ll keep you up to date. Now, if we could just rescue the old Unitarian church across from the Commons!
There are real heroes among us. They don’t wear capes and masks. Instead, they wear heavy gear and carry hoses, axes, and breathing masks. They drive big red trucks with loud sirens and in a small community like this one, they are all volunteers.
When the rest of us are running out of the burning building, these people are racing into it. Heroes. Unpaid and underpaid, they are also under-appreciated for the dangerous and vital work they do.
This classic shot of the firefighters on 9/11 says it all. I didn’t take the picture and I don’t know who did, so I can’t credit the photographer. I would if I could.
Maybe that’s why our retired local fire truck “old number 2” has a place of her own in a field and is regularly visited by her neighbors.
This is our second week of the number series . This week’s topic is Two Very Different Items or the Number Two. Feel free to dig around in your archives for photos if you don’t have anything knew you can photograph. Most of all I hope you have fun.
It’s hard to believe, but it’s been two years since I visited my favorite old fire engine. He’s right where I last saw him. In the vacant area across from the post office.
Harder to spot him from the road, now because the bushes and brush have grown around him. Enclosing him tightly in overhanging branches, wildflowers and weeds closing around his old tires.
There’s a little memorial nearby in memory of lost firefighters, the Worcester fireman and the 9/11 first responders. And a few locals, too. I don’t know if anyone but me visits any more.
Old Number 2, with all his memories, is slowly being forgotten by everyone. Except, I guess, me.