The several years old annual Christmas morning "lolly run" was underway in neighborhoods, with four designated fire engines complete with Santa on back and his firefighter elves decked out in turnout gear of yellow trousers and red suspenders.
Steve, as second lieutenant and second in command to the captain, Bill Cook, drove one of the trucks, and I rode shotgun. Our designated area was a low income neighborhood of several blocks, which to me, made spreading the joy of the season that much more poignant.
We were at the Sebastopol station by 8 a.m., and I helped decorate trucks and tried to stay out of the way of the veterans. I eavesdropped while the leaders planned neighborhood routes and pickup areas for more lollies (candy) should anyone run out. I took pictures. But thanks to Steve, most of the blokes know my journalism background, and so they didn't mind.
Christmas morning was pleasantly cool and sunny, like a lazy summer day in the Pacific Northwest. By noon, the sun was pushing its warmth down to earth and radiating off the blacktop and making me wonder about the wisdom of roasting a turkey in my kitchen for an evening Christmas meal with two of Steve's three children.
But on this morning, I wasn't thinking about it too much. Camera in hand, I snapped away while residents came out of their homes at the siren's signal...older couples in bathrobes and jammies waving at their firefighters as they passed by tossing lollies from the back of the engine, and Santa in full gear and ultra-hip black sunglasses waving lazily as we drove by. Children ran out of homes, delighted to not only see a fire truck, but Santa on the back. I swear, for the first 45 minutes of the two-and-a-half hour run I had a lump in my throat and unshed tears stung my eyes.
What a way to start Christmas Day. What joy was on those faces, young and old. In fact, some blokes had set aside six-packs or cartons of beer to give to their "firey mates" as a show of appreciation. Steve slowed the truck as they swaggered over to hand the gift bags of brew to Santa and his helpers. Grandparents and parents took videos and pictures to document the event unfolding on their street as the brigade passed by.
I had a good laugh as well. How different from anything I've ever seen or experienced from where I come from in America. My "hometown" Battle Ground was the most community oriented and community involved city I'd ever lived in, but on this day I think Sebastopol gave them a run for their money.
I look forward to making this a holiday tradition. I can't think of a better way to spend Christmas morning. Unless it's with my children, daughter-in-law and grandchild, family and friends all here with us...on a Christmas Morning Lolly Run.
Second lieutenant Steven Colin Cramer at home, coffee in hand, getting ready for the lolly run.
Decorating the engines at the station.
Santa in "sunnies" (sunglasses) and his elves in turnout gear. The truck behind them is the one I rode in with Steve while he drove.
Santa's reindeer, Steve, in the driver's seat.
On our way.
Driving down Albert Street in the heart of Sebastopol.
Santa on the back, framed by the side mirror.
First lolly drop. Those boys were waiting.
Girls in bathrobes chasing candy.
Even the older set came out in jammies.
A happy face to Santa Claus.
Little girl reindeer.
A typical outdoor Australian Christmas party on the front lawn. Lots of houses had this sort of set-up with tables and chairs and children running higgledy-piggledy and adults spinning yarns of Christmases past.
One of the "Santas" who handed out stubbies of beer to the firefighters to enjoy later. Notice the earring. I was amused.
Family waiting for lollies, camera in hand by mom.
Another ready neighborhood.
Too loud! But here anyway.
Princesses and ballerinas came running in this neighborhood.
Reindeer Steve (on left in light blue shirt) being pelted with lollies by Santa on the last stop.
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