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In the final scene of the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy wakes up to find Auntie Em and Uncle Henry fussing over her after she had a bump on the head.
But they aren’t alone; Professor Marvel and Uncle Henry’s three farm hands, Hickory, Hunk and Zeke show up, too.
That’s the fairy tale version that ends happily ever after.
Sometimes, life imitates art.
It happened some six years on Rowell Road, when our daughter, Betty Jo, quit breathing in the middle of the night after a seizure.
I ran into the bedroom to find a blue, lifeless child and a wife who was resuscitating her while I called 911.
She started to breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to hear a child cry.
Within five minutes, Betty Jo awoke on the sofa amid lifesaving equipment to find us and paramedic Chuck Payne, along with Perry Clanton, Danny Deese and Rocky Hudson standing over her to make sure she was OK.
And trust me, this was no movie script.
By the way, if you don’t know Clanton, Deese and Hudson, you should.
The three are first responders and members of Buford Volunteer Fire Department.
But more than that, they are my neighbors and my friends.
When we needed someone in the middle of the night, they came running. Given that, I don’t have to look very far to find honest to goodness heroes.
Dorothy said it best.
“It was a place and they were there.”
Hopefully, I can say it better.