Firemen Save the Day!
Published February 20th, 2008Today Lulu and I had a grand adventure. We were on our way to her 15-month checkup, and I stopped at Harvestime to get some milk. It was one of those Classic Chicago winter mornings, sunnier than June, with no leaves to block the sun, but only 12 degrees , with a -10 windchill. Is there anything more demoralizing than wrestling your child into a carseat, driving your icebox-mobile three blocks, popping the baby out, tearing down the sidewalk in the frigid air, only to discover that for unknown reasons, the city has shut down the only store nearby with organic milk? I turned around, Lulu straddling my hip, and unlocked the car, glad I hadn’t bothered to feed the meter. To fasten Lulu in the carseat, I peeled off my gloves and tossed the car keys into the front seat. I loosened the belts, pried her arms through the straps, snapped the buckles. I wriggled her hat on her head, a pink felt number with a purple rose and a band of faux pink wool. Then I wrapped her legs in a baby Pendleton and slammed the door. I climbed across the icy snowbank and around the car, but when I reached to open the door, it was locked.
When I’d tossed the keys over the front seat, didn’t I accidentally hit the lock button?
I grabbed my cell phone and called my husband, and mercifully, he wasn’t at his desk. What made me think that alarming him might be a good idea? I called 911.
“I locked my baby in the car.”
“Hold for the fire department.”
After I’d given my 20, and they’d promised to be there in a few minutes, I smiled in the window at Lulu, danced from foot-to-foot, and she smiled back at me, highlighting her gapped front teeth. Who knows what she thought–mama’s dancing outside! I couldn’t stand in the sunny spot, because she wouldn’t be able to see me, so I kept moving, wiggling my toes, regretting that vanity had kept me from wearing a hat (though my hair’s exceptionally huge at the moment). I tapped and waved, looking up and down Lawrence, until I heard the distant siren’s approach.
Tears sparked in my eyes, as I saw the firetruck–a big rig with lights flashing–barrel down the middle of the road just for me and Lulu. Oh foolishness! I waved them my way.
Five firemen descended and swarmed the car. They wore big black jackets trimmed in dayglo green, with their names etched along the bottom. One held a hatchet; one held a long steel jimmy.
“Are you going to have to break the window?”
“We hope not,” Moran said.
They peeled the window away from the rim, and one man wheedled the jimmy down to the armrest. They blocked my view of Lulu, so I ran to the other side of the car to see what she thought of the crowd of men circling our car. She stared at them with her mouth open, calm and observant.
“I can’t see,” the guy with the jimmy said.
“Get outta his way,” Moran ordered, and one fireman stepped away from the passenger side window. “You’re almost there. See. It’s on the armrest. Keep going, keep going…”
I relaxed. They were going to reach it. Next thing I knew, another fireman was opening the door for me.
“What do I owe you?” I asked.
“Nothing, ma’am,” Moran said. “Now, what’s your name?”
“Favorite,” I said. “Like your favorite person to rescue.”
“All right, Ma’am. Now, don’t be locking your baby in the car anymore.”
“I won’t.” I said.
Lulu giggled when I got back in the car, and within minutes was fast asleep. We made it to the doctor on time.
Martin Perdoux on February 20, 2008
Where are the paparazzi when you need’em…
Ann Wright on February 21, 2008
Would have made a good commercial for “Onstar!”
Mary Beth Cooke on February 21, 2008
Great story! I remember locking the triplets and Cameron in on a hot sunny Texas day when they were very small and somehow getting Cam to open it from within. The horror!
Martin Perdoux on February 21, 2008
A colleague forwarded this to me. Lulu’s adventure could have been the chance to see if it actually works. I have never actually tested the second tip, so don’t take my word for it:
GOOD CELL PHONE INFO
THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW
YOUR CELL PHONE COULD DO !!!
There are a few things that can be done in times of grave emergencies.
Your mobile phone can actually be a life saver or an emergency tool for survival. Check out the things that you can do with it:
Subject: Have you locked your keys in the car?
Does your car have remote keyless entry? This may come in handy someday. Good reason to own a cell phone:
If you lock your keys in the car and the spare keys are at home, call someone at home on their cell phone from your cell phone. Hold your cell phone about a foot from your car door and have the person at your home press the unlock button, holding it near the mobile phone on their end. Your car will unlock…. Saves someone from having to drive your keys to you. Distance is no object. You could be hundreds of miles away, and if you can reach someone who has the other “remote” for your car, you can unlock the doors (or the trunk).
Editor’s Note: It works fine! We tried it out and it unlocked our car over a cell phone!”
Chrissy on February 21, 2008
You should send the firefighters a copy of the book with an inscription that says: To our Heroes from The Heroines, Eileen and LuLu.