Truly the Things That Matter by Earnestly Hemingdave (as assisted by Chatbot)

 

Truly the Things That Matter

Earnestly Hemingdave

On an August day, hot and windy, a plume of smoke was spotted. The fire was close, too close. We threw our suitcases into the car, packed for the fire season, and hit the road. A week later, the River Fire was under control, but the Caldor Fire was just beginning. It quickly spread, becoming one of the most devastating fires in California's history. Thousands were evacuated, and more than 1000 structures were destroyed. But in the midst of the destruction, there were heroes. Firefighters risking their lives to preserve life and save homes. Their bravery was unmatched, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for their sacrifice.

In the midst of the chaos, there was a story of uncommon kindness. A young boy named Carter had built a fort and started his own business selling sharpened sticks. When the evacuation order came, he left behind his beloved fort and new home. But a group of firefighters arrived before the flames, and cleared the property to avoid damage or disaster. When Carter returned, he found that his fort had been saved. The firefighters had cut fire lines and even left a note with a promise of a cool video of helicopters dropping water.

Heroism, kindness, and sharpened sticks. In the face of disaster, these are the things that truly matter.

Heroic Deeds, Indeed, and Thus Kindness Shines Freely Amongst Well-Sharpened Sticks by Chuck Chat Dickens

 And Here is the ChatGPT Charles Dickens version...

It was a scorching summer's day, the fourth of August in the year of our Lord, 2021, when David Molina received a call from a neighbor. A dense cloud of smoke had been sighted over the hill from his humble abode, and fear crept into his heart. Stepping outside, he saw a mushroom cloud of darkness, and though he could not discern the distance, it appeared perilously close. The winds were capricious, and while they blew away from his dwelling, he knew that they could turn in an instant. With haste, he packed his belongings, and in less than fifteen minutes, he was on his way to Sacramento. Alas, the River Fire raged for a week, consuming over two thousand acres and ravaging many homes. In the end, several of his acquaintances lost their abodes.

Despite his close call, fate was not done with Mr. Molina. Another inferno, the Caldor Fire, kindled to the south and east of him, and it soon became one of the most devastating conflagrations in California's history. The flames devoured over two hundred thousand acres, and it forced the evacuation of thousands of people. The bravery of the firefighters and emergency crews was unmatched, and they risked their lives to protect others. Their valor and heroism were on display as they cleared brush, formed fire lines, and hosed down roofs to preserve life and property. Even as the dangers and the destruction loomed, they pressed on, day after day, working tirelessly to quench the flames.

Amidst the chaos and turmoil, a story of heroism and kindness emerged. A 9-year-old boy named Carter Campbell had built a fort and set up a small business outside his cabin in South Lake Tahoe, where he sold sharpened sticks. When the evacuation order came, he left behind his fort and home, unsure if they would survive the ravages of the fire. But a group of firefighters, led by Battalion Chief Scott Wilson, arrived before the flames and cleared the property to prevent damage or disaster. When Carter and his family returned, they found the fort still standing, thanks to the firefighters' tireless efforts. Not only had they cut fire lines around it, but they had also taken down two of the walls to prevent it from catching fire. In addition, Battalion Chief Wilson had purchased three of Carter's sharpened sticks and left a note promising a cool video of helicopters dropping water by the fort.

The sacrifices and selflessness of these firefighters and emergency crews are a testament to the courage and strength of the human spirit. They risked everything to protect others and their homes, even when faced with danger and destruction. Their heroism and kindness will be remembered for generations to come.

Heroism, Kindness, and Sharpened Sticks by David Molina

 Heroism, Kindness, and Sharpened Sticks 

David Molina

On a hot, windy summer’s day, Wednesday August 4, 2021 I got a phone call. It was from a neighbor alerting me that a plume of dense smoke had been spotted over the hill from our home. I walked outside, and sure enough, there was a mushroom cloud of dark smoke. It was impossible to judge how far away it could be, but it seemed very, very close. It was to the east of us, and at this time of day it meant that the prevailing winds would be heading away from our home rather than towards it.

However, the gusty winds were unpredictable. We threw our suitcases into the back of the car - they were already packed during the fire season - along with several bags of documents, photos, and computer back-up drives. In less than fifteen minutes we were down the driveway, down the hill, and heading to Sacramento. I made a hotel reservation while driving down, which was a good call because by evening there was a stream of evacuees and by the time we checked in, the hotel was at capacity.

Unfortunately the River Fire, as it was named, took almost a week to bring under control. The fire burned 2,614 acres, burned 142 structures, many of them homes. Several acquaintances of ours lost their homes. Four fire fighters were injured, but fortunately there were no fatalities. We were fortunate that the prevailing wind pattern drove the flames away from us. 

But the following week, and even bigger fire started south and east of us. This would be called the Caldor Fire. It started in El Dorado County, and it quickly spread due to the hot, dry, and windy conditions. It became one of the most devastating fires in California's history. Within a matter of days, the fire had grown to more than 10,000 acres, and it had forced the evacuation of  thousands of people. But in spite of the firefighting efforts of thousands of firefighters and emergency crews, the fire continued to grow, eventually burning an incredible 220,000 acres, from one side of the Sierras to the other.

By the time the fire eventually was controlled, more than 1000 structures had been destroyed in the miles long swath of this monster fire. There would have been many more homes destroyed had it not been for the brave firefighters. Their number one priority was to preserve life, and in spite of the danger and destruction there was only a single fatality. The second priority was to save as many homes as they could. They would do this by having a crew clear brush and flammable materials around the home, hose the roof, or form fire lines to thwart the wall of advancing flames. Once the danger had been averted, they would go to the next closest home to defend.

I often thought of the sacrifices these firefighters were making in doing their jobs. I had experienced the stress of evacuation and the days and weeks of uncertainty. But these firefighters, many of them far away their own families and homes for weeks on end, continued day after day working in the worst possible conditions. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to work under layers of heavy, thick coats, pants, and hats, enduring the sweltering heat and smoke while performing the hard physical labor of fire fighting. All of this, while facing the danger of falling trees, collapsing structures, and firestorms. I had nothing but admiration and gratefulness for these men and women.

The fire threatened several communities, including South Lake Tahoe, a popular vacation destination, but also the home of many families. Thousands of tourists and residents were forced to evacuate the Tahoe basin, causing major traffic jams and road closures. 

A local newspaper writer, Miranda Jacobson, wrote about an incident, a story about heroism but even more, about uncommon kindness.

According to Ms. Jacobson, a 9-year-old boy named Carter Campbell had spent his first summer at a cabin in South Lake Tahoe that his parents had bought. While his dad was working on the cabin Carter built a fort to pass the time. It consisted of four walls and a table. In addition he started his own small business. He collected sticks, sharpened them, and set them outside his fort with a sign reading “Sharpened Sticks for Sale.”

When the emergency evacuation order was broadcast, Carter abandoned not only his fort, but his new home. It had to have been frightening to leave them and not know if they would still be there after the fire stormed through the basin.

But a group of firefighters from Riverside California led by Battalion Chief Scott Wilson arrived before the flames, and cleared the property to avoid damage or disaster.

When the danger had passed, the family returned to their property. Carter was very concerned that his fort had been destroyed, but to their surprise found that the firefighters had cut fire lines all the way around his fort. Not only that, they had taken down two of the walls that could have caught fire as a defensive measure. And on top of that, they found a note next to Carter’s pile of Sharpened Sticks:

“I bought three of your sticks. I hope a dollar each was fair. Contact me for a cool video of helicopters dropping water by your fort. 

Signed,

 Battalion Chief Wilson”

The Store/La Tienda by Paul Delgado

The Store/La Tienda

by Paul Delgado

My grandparents, Agustin and Maria, owned a small corner grocery store in East Los Angeles during World War II. My grandfather was a welder, and my grandmother took care of the little store. At that time, my dad was serving overseas, and his sisters, my aunties, were in high school.

My grandparents were struggling to make ends meet during those years. However, they managed to survive with the small income from the store and my grandfather's job. Additionally, they owned a very small apartment in the neighborhood that they had purchased years before and rented out to a newly married couple.

After a few months, the newlyweds were unable to pay the rent. One morning, on his way to work, my grandfather asked my grandmother to speak to them and tell them that they needed the rent money that week or they would have to ask them to leave.

Later that night, my grandfather returned home from work and asked my grandmother how it went that day. "Did you speak to the tenants? Were you able to collect the rent?" he inquired.

"Ay Agustin," she sighed. "When I saw how poor they were, I couldn't ask them for the rent."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I went back to the store and bought them groceries," she replied.

The Road Trip by Paul Delgado

 

The Road Trip

Paul Delgado

My cousin Richie went to Loyola. He was a top athlete but unfortunately didn’t make the varsity rowing team roster for the 1973 Western Conference finals in Vancouver. He was disappointed but still wanted to show his support to the team. So, one Friday night over a few beers, he and his buddy Jerry decided they would ride their motorcycles to Vancouver for the championship games the following weekend. With limited funds, they calculated they had enough money to make it there and back, yet still have enough cash for partying with their teammates. When they left L.A, they made sure to stash money for return gas and motels in Richie’s backpack. “This is untouchable” Rich said. “No matter what, we can’t spend this dough.” “Absolutely,” Jerry answered. So off they went.

The motorcycle ride to Vancouver was long but uneventful. Upon arriving in Canada, they were enthusiastically greeted by their teammates and then proceeded to blow almost all their money over the course of a couple of days. The night before they began their ride back to L.A. and in a state of “Coors enlightenment,” they calculated that a little of the “untouchable” cash could be spent. They had met a couple of girls and wanted to impress, so foolishly, they dug into the “untouchable” cash stash.

The next day, with serious hangovers, they said goodbye to the girls and began the long trek home. It was March, and the weather was cold. As they approached Medford, Oregon, they realized they only had enough money for gas and would not be able to stay in a motel. Pressing on, the weather worsened, and it began snowing. Stopping under a bridge on I-5, completely exhausted and freezing, they realized they were in deep trouble.

Shivering uncontrollably in the night air, they knew they wouldn’t survive unless they found shelter, so Richie decided on a course of action. “We need to get to the local police station.” Trembling and blue from the cold, they walked into the small police office and asked the desk sergeant if he would arrest them so they would have somewhere to stay. The officer shook his head and said, “Sorry boys,” and explained he couldn’t do that as they had not committed any crime. With despair in their eyes, Rich and his buddy turned toward the door when suddenly the sergeant stopped them and asked them to wait a moment. Putting on his Sheriff’s Parka, he told them to get on their motorcycles and wait for him outside.

After a couple of minutes, the sergeant pulled up and told the boys to follow him. Dutifully, they nodded and rode off behind the squad car. After about a half-mile, they pulled into a Motel 6 parking lot. Together they walked into the lobby, and the sergeant asked the clerk to get the boys a room which he personally paid for. He then gave them a little money for burgers at the McDonald’s across the street.

Rich and his buddy couldn’t believe it. “Thanks so much” was all they could say. “How can we repay you?” The sergeant smiled and said, “Once upon a time, I was a dumb kid too.” “Next time, you guys might want to plan a little better.” He chuckled and climbed into his car and drove off. The next day, the weather had cleared, and after a long and exhausting ride, they made it safely back to L.A.

Over the past fifty years, Rich has recounted this story many times and is still touched by the officer’s uncommon kindness and generosity, which probably saved their lives.

Mabuhay! (Hooray!) Paul Delgado

 Mabuhay! (Hooray!)

Paul Delgado

In 2000, my family and I were living in Cebu, Philippines, which was a happy time in our lives. We loved Asia and little did we know that we would spend the next fourteen years in that part of the world. At the time, my son, Cristian (Coco), was a junior at the Cebu International School (CIS), doing well academically and in sports. He was one of those charismatic individuals who was very popular on campus and a colorful character to say the least. More often than not, he found himself in the Headmaster’s office accounting for his good-natured antics.

Apart from his classroom shenanigans, he had a serious side and a special place in his heart for the younger kids in the elementary program. He spent many hours of his personal time coaching and playing along with the little ones on the soccer field.

That fall semester, he decided to run for student body Public Relations Officer. I questioned him about his commitment as it would require a serious bit of work, but he said he wanted to tackle it. I wasn't totally convinced that he was ready to take on the responsibility as much as he wanted to revel in the limelight, but okay... Here we go!

The other candidate for the position was a very talented young Korean girl, Ms. Kim. She was a top student and very driven. She was more than capable of handling the position. A few weeks passed, and the school held a student body meeting in the Gymnasium where the candidates could outline their vision and explain how they would be the right choice.

Ms. Kim stepped up to the podium and methodically explained how she would represent CIS to the local community. She also shared her passion and love for the school. After she left the stage, Coco walked up to the podium and delivered an impassioned and fiery speech.

"Students and parents of CIS!!" he called out to the jam-packed auditorium, "If elected, these are my promises and you can count on them! I will raise our teachers’ salaries! I will widen Talamban Road! I will bring in new government funding for the school! I will ensure more holidays for students! I will shorten classroom sessions to four hours per day! I will bring in new catering services for lunch! I will extend summer vacation! These are my promises, and I will keep them!"

At that moment, his buddies in the bleachers began shouting on cue. "Mabuhay Coco! Mabuhay!!" In a minute, the entire auditorium began chanting "Mabuhay Coco, Mabuhay!" He stepped down from the podium to thunderous applause. The headmaster and staff could only shake their heads and laugh. Only Coco! Needless to say, he won the election by a landslide.

A few days later, I asked him if he was ready to get serious and undertake the duties he was elected to perform. "Actually dad," he said, "I spoke to the headmaster today and told him I would not be taking the job. Ms. Kim is the one who really deserves it!" All I could say was, "Mabuhay Coco! Well done!"

Let Kindness Through

Let Kindness Through

by Ricki T Thues

Robert opened the door to see a teenage boy standing timidly outside his grand mansion. The boy said, “Excuse me, Mr. Davidson. Could you spare some change or some food? My grandmother and I haven't eaten in days." Robert, who had been in a bad mood all day, scowled at the boy and snapped, “First of all, call me sir! And furthermore, I don't have time for beggars.” He slammed the door in the boy's face.

Two days later, Robert was out for a walk when he saw an old woman struggling to carry her groceries home. "Can I help you with that?" he offered.
"Oh, bless your heart," the woman said with a grateful smile. "I don't know what I would have done without your help." As they walked, the woman began to tell Robert about her grandson’s encounter with him. "Bobby asked for food at the door of the mansion up the street the other day,” she said, her voice shaking. "He was crying. He said the man slammed the door on him. The screen door almost knocked him over. Thank goodness others gave him enough money to buy these groceries."

Robert felt terrible guilt. What was he thinking? This was not him. “I am so sorry that this happened,” he said.
"It's alright," the woman said, patting his arm. "I believe he is a good man at heart. He just needs to let his kindness show through."

“May I take you to lunch, ma’am?” Robert asked.
“I really need to get home with these groceries,” she replied, “but may I make you lunch at my house? I just live down the street.”

Robert took the groceries and carried them to the house. As they walked, he introduced himself, saying, “My name is Robert, what’s yours?" "I am Caris," she replied.

They arrived at a modest, run-down apartment building. The door to Caris’s apartment was cheerfully decorated with flowers and a large “Welcome” sign. The interior was sparsely decorated, meticulously clean, and lived in. Over lunch, the woman told Robert how Bobby’s parents had died in a car wreck, and care of him had fallen on her. “Bobby is very good in school. He wants to be a computer programmer. He is really good with computers, but I cannot afford to buy one. Bobby uses the computer at the library to learn and do his school work. I just know he will be successful. He is so smart.” It was obvious how much she loved the boy.

Robert listened intently, his mind playing back the scene of Bobby at his door and the sound of the door slamming. “I have to go now,” said Robert. “Thank you for the delicious lunch.”
“Thank you for the help with my groceries,” said Caris.

Robert owned the local Internet service company. He called the manager and said, “Tyler, Robert. I’ve got a project for you.” The next day, a Daily ISP service truck arrived at Caris’s house. The serviceman knocked on her door. “Ms. Boniface?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. “My name is Santos. I have a work order here to install an Internet connection.” “I did not order that,” she said. “I see that here,” he replied. “It says this is part of a company public service program. It will be fully covered by Daily ISP. It also says it is an indefinite term.” 

 

As soon as the internet connection was installed in Caris's house, Santos, brought in a computer that came with the service. “Where should I set this up?”

Caris was at a loss for words and simply pointed to Bobby's room. Santos carried the boxes to the room, where he found Bobby engrossed in a book. Excitedly, Bobby helped Santos with the computer assembly. Impressed with Bobby's hardware skills, Santos asked about his programming abilities.

"I'm top of my class at Sanford High, and my teacher says I have very clean code," replied Bobby.

Santos handed Bobby a card and said, "We have a part-time position at Daily ISP that would be perfect for you. Go see HR at headquarters in town as soon as possible." Bobby applied for the job the next day and was hired on the spot. With a decent salary, Bobby and his grandmother were lifted out of poverty.

Thanks to the company's college assistance program, Bobby was able to attend a local technical academy after graduating high school. He soon rose to the position of lead tech at Daily ISP.

One day, Robert Davidson, the owner of the company, summoned Bobby to his office. As Bobby entered, Robert stood up and extended his hand. Although Robert looked familiar, Bobby couldn't quite place him.

"You've been an outstanding employee for these past few years," said Robert. "I want to make you our Vice President of Product Development. Will you take the job?"

Bobby stammered his agreement, "Yes, yes sir."

Robert smiled and said, "Please, Bobby, call me Robert."

Robert opened the door to see a teenage boy standing timidly outside his grand mansion. The boy said, “Excuse me, Mr. Davidson. Could you spare some change or some food? My grandmother and I haven't eaten in days." 

Robert, who had been in a bad mood all day, scowled at the boy and snapped, “First of all, call me sir! And furthermore, I don't have time for beggars.” He slammed the door in the boy's face.

Two days later, Robert was out for a walk when he saw an old woman struggling to carry her groceries home. "Can I help you with that?" he offered.
"Oh, bless your heart," the woman said with a grateful smile. "I don't know what I would have done without your help." As they walked, the woman began to tell Robert about her grandson’s encounter with him. "Bobby asked for food at the door of the mansion up the street the other day,” she said, her voice shaking. "He was crying. He said the man slammed the door on him. The screen door almost knocked him over. Thank goodness others gave him enough money to buy these groceries."

Robert felt terrible guilt. What was he thinking? This was not him. “I am so sorry that happened,” he said.
"It's alright," the woman said, patting his arm. "I believe he is a good man at heart. He just needs to let his kindness show through."

“May I take you to lunch, ma’am?” Robert asked.
“I really need to get home with these groceries,” she replied, “but may I make you lunch at my house? I live just down the street.”
Robert took the groceries and carried them to the house. As they walked, he introduced himself, saying, “My name is Robert, what’s yours?" "I am Caris," she replied.

They arrived at a modest, run-down apartment building. The door to Caris’s apartment was cheerfully decorated with flowers and a large “Welcome” sign. The interior was sparsely decorated, meticulously clean, and lived in. Over lunch, the woman told Robert how Bobby’s parents had died in a car wreck and care of him had fallen on her. “Bobby is very good in school. He wants to be a computer programmer. He is really good with computers, but I cannot afford to buy one. Bobby uses the computer at the library to learn and do his school work. I just know he will be successful. He is so smart.” It was obvious how much she loved the boy.

Robert listened intently, his mind playing back the scene of Bobby at his door and the sound of the door slamming. “I have to go now,” said Robert. “Thank you for the delicious lunch.”
“Thank you for the help with my groceries,” said Caris.

Robert owned the local Internet service company. He called the manager and said, “Tyler, Robert. I’ve got a project for you.” The next day, a Daily ISP service truck arrived at Caris’s home. The serviceman knocked on her door. “Ms. Boniface?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. “My name is Santos. I have a work order here to install an Internet connection.” “I did not order that,” she said. “I see that here,” he replied. “It says this is part of a company public service program. It will be fully covered by Daily ISP. It also says it is an indefinite term.” 

As soon as the internet connection was installed in Caris's home, Santos brought in a computer that came with the service. “Where should I set this up?”

Caris was at a loss for words and simply pointed to Bobby's room. Santos carried the boxes to the room where he found Bobby engrossed in a book. Excitedly, Bobby helped Santos with the computer assembly. Impressed with Bobby's hardware skills, Santos asked about his programming abilities.

"I'm top of my class at Sanford High, and my teacher says I write very clean code," replied Bobby.

Santos handed Bobby a card and said, "We have a part-time position at Daily ISP that would be perfect for you. Go see HR at headquarters in town as soon as possible." Bobby applied for the job the next day and was hired on the spot. With a decent salary, Bobby and his grandmother were lifted out of poverty.

Thanks to the company's college assistance program, Bobby was able to attend a local technical academy after graduating high school. He soon rose to the position of lead tech at Daily ISP.

Several years later, Robert Davidson, the owner of the company, summoned Bobby to his office. As Bobby entered, Robert stood up and extended his hand. Although Robert looked familiar, Bobby couldn't quite place him.

"You've been an outstanding leader these past few years," said Robert. "I want to make you our Vice President of Product Development. Will you take the job?"
Bobby stammered his agreement, "Yes, yes sir."

Robert smiled and said, "Please, Bobby, call me Robert."

Pity, Compassion, KIndness by David Molina

 

Pity, Compassion, Kindness

It was a biting cold, bitter day in a small East European town as the file of defeated Nazi troops marched through the streets.The Russian soldiers guarded them closely, keeping watch over the prisoners of war as they were forced to march to a far-off prison camp and an uncertain future. The Nazi officers were at the front of the column, their uniforms clean and tidy, their faces defiant and arrogant as they marched past the jeering crowds of townspeople.

The women of the town had gathered together, and they hurled hateful words and rocks at the Nazi officers. They shouted at them, and spat, their anger boiling over at the sight of the enemy who had caused so much pain and suffering to their families, their friends, their country. The officers remained impassive and aloof, ignoring the taunts and insults of the townspeople whom they had plundered and tormented only weeks before.

As the officers passed, the harsh clack of their polished boots on the cobblestone street reverberated through the town. But once they had marched off into the distance, the street became eerily quiet, as hundreds of defeated German foot soldiers now shuffled through the town. Now the only sounds were the clacking of wooden crutches on the stones. Wounded, hungry, and emaciated, many could barely walk. They were clothed in filthy, torn, tattered uniforms, some wearing mere rags, some wrapped in blankets. Many were bandaged, some had lost limbs and could only rely on comrades and crutches to keep up.

The sight of the pitiful parade of the defeated men caused a change in the mood of the townspeople. What they had once imagined as the cruel invaders turned out to be just boys barely out of their teens.The women's hate turned to silence as they watched the soldiers limped past them. They saw the suffering etched on the faces of the young men, and their hearts softened. An old woman, who could not help imagining that these poor boys were the sons of a mother like her, walked out onto the cobblestone street, her eyes filled with compassion. She reached into her pocket and found a crust of old bread. It was the only food she had, and had been saving it for later that day. She offered it to a soldier who was starving. He ate it ravenously, his eyes brimming with gratefulness, and nodded a silent thank you

The other women in the town saw this lone woman and her simple gesture to an unknown soldier who was once an enemy. But it wasn’t so, could not be so… not anymore. They rummaged in their pockets and bags, searching for scraps of food to give to the soldiers of what little they had. The women who had no food to give reached out to the men, took a hand, patted a shoulder, or whispered a blessing. The soldiers' eyes filled with tears as they accepted the food, overwhelmed by the women's generosity.

As the file of soldiers disappeared in the distance, the women watched them go, their hearts heavy. They knew that these young men were victims too, young men who could easily be their own sons and husbands, caught up in a war they did not choose or understand. 

The soldiers in turn felt the healing touch of their mothers, their sisters, their wives, far away. There is a saying that when a soldier is nearing death or great danger, his thoughts always turns to a woman, or to a girl. A mother, a wife, a daughter. As hard as the cruel march was, the kindness of these women reminded them of their women, their girls, and in doing so brought them hope in their time of despair.