SSF Retirement

Last Friday night my father had his retirement dinner for his years of service at the South San Francisco Fire Department. All my friends can offer sighs of regret that there will no longer be fire station photo-op visits. I am however pleased to announce that other than being under-dressed (I should have known when D said to wear jeans...) I did not cause any of the racket produced during his official swearing-in ceremony. Where after watching the beginning a video (which was likely meant to be touching and powerful) my toddler self went in to hysterics with fear that the little girl in the burning apartment building was not going to be rescued. It's a surprising vivid memory of the part of the movie I watched. I don't remember being carried from the room among repeated screams to the effect of "She's going to DIE!!!" But I do remember arriving to safety in the foyer where there was tile on which to run around. I'm sure M will happily fill in details for those that want them.

No such breakdowns occurred at the dinner, the fit about appropriate dress was mild in comparison.

Sadly, this marks an end to the supply of South San Francisco gear my family has sported for decades. 

The dinner was held at the South San Francisco Basque Cultural Center. Adorable wood carvings on the wall.

One of the other gentlemen retiring told us all a story about D during his speech, D had shared the story with the family just moments before...

The last time both had been in the hall where we were seated was on a Saturday afternoon an hour before a wedding reception was set to begin. A sprinkler under the stage broke and the floor was covered with water...COVERED with water. D was the acting captain that day, they pumped the floor and dried it in 45 min (basketball court sized room), not a drip. Saved the wedding. The bride and groom took photos with D. 

Now he's on to bigger and better things. Though I can't imagine for that couple anything could have seemed bigger that day.