Chasing on a Stingray

For as long as I can remember I would get pretty excited to hear and then see the fire trucks responding from the station on Panamint in Ridgecrest. In those days we would hear “the bonk” of the firehouse. The bonk was simply an air horn that we as kids only knew as the bonk. It would relay, in coded bonking fashion, the location of a fire. Now don’t misunderstand, the bonk would not be able to give an actual address, but in those early days (50s, 60s and 70s) it would indicate a section of town that had a particular bonk pattern assigned to it.

Growing up, we lived about 5 blocks north of the firehouse and anytime we heard the bonk I would jump on my red Schwinn Stingray, complete with a white banana seat and a short “sissy bar”, and chase the fire trucks. Chasing isn’t a fair description. I would really listen for the direction of travel and try to meet them (beat them on a good day) where I figured they were going. If there was a column of smoke, that made it all the easier.

Why do I take you on this walk down history’s dirt road, you ask? Well, many of my stories will be situated around the years I spent as a volunteer fire fighter with the Bishop Fire Department.

The Bishop Fire Department was organized about 1905 and I joined in 1984. At the time Charlotte was four and Cara was 2 years old. I remained with the department until I left the area in 1996. I have no doubt had we stayed in the Bishop area I would still be extremely active and involved, because I miss it to this day. The men that I associated for those 12 years were of the finest quality. Some were close friends, others were only good acquaintances; but they all were like family. It just gets that way.

In a future posts, I will give a detailed description of how the department was organized and how it operated so that you may be better able to visualize the stories I will relate.