Beech Tree News Network

The terrible waterfront fire of 1560 in Louisville: 

Some of the run out old buildings along the Louisville waterfront presented a fire hazard. On a zero-cold night one did catch fire….about to spread to other relies along the front. All of Louisville’s fire equipment was called out. Too no avail; they couldn’t handle the situation alone. Other surrounding units were called to help; everything out of Clarkesville and Jeffersonville, Indiana were called. The help as far away as E-town was summoned. 

The flames grew hotter and higher. The situation was still out of control. It looked as though the whole west-end might go-up in flames. As Louisville’s fire commissioner helplessly stood and gazed on, an old guy standing close to him stepped up and declared in no uncertain terms: “Can’t but one fire department here-bouts control this fire”

“Which one for heaven-sake!” the commissioner yelled. 

“Peewee Valley”: the old man said with certainty. 

With that, the fire commissioner turned to his assistant and ordered: “Call Peewee Valley!” 

“Here they come!” somebody called out after a bit. “Peewee Valley’s Fire Unit.” 

Sure enough, that it was: An old 1939 Ford pickup truck to one side of which, was lashed with hay-bale twine, a ten-foot step ladder. The other side a six-foot timber saw with handles on each end manually operated. Why a crosscut saw? Nobody knew. 

In the pickup bed: A full 55-gallon steel barrel with a hand pump attached-connected to the nozzle was a ten-foot garden hose, spotted here and there with a duck-tape patches. There was also a stand-by 55-gallon drum of water. In the bottom of the bed was a large grubbing hoe-fire picks-combination. In the glove box of the truck was a large bottle of extra strength aspirin. (First aid) 

Manning this goin’ Jessie were two inspired fire fighters: The chief up front driving the rig. In back squatting on the rear bumper, hanging on to the tail gate, and the Segundo fireman (second in command).  Both gallant civil servants were regaled in their new fire gear, courtesy of the Peewee Valley City Council (Nothing too good for our brave fireman). Their new outfits were: yellow rain slickers, rubber fly-fishing-type waders; they wore World War One type pie pan steel helmets, strapped on the front of which were reading glasses, for close-in work as it were. 

Here they came heck-bent-for leather, pedal to the metal-not a sign of letting up, WHAM, they took in right through the two large front doors. Inside there screaming, cussing, crying, biff, bang, bong-creek-slung, stump-whipped… tore up new ground lighting. The fire was out. Quietness. Directly the fire crew of two emerged-coughing, hair singed, fire gear all but melted off, except the steel pie pan helmets. 

Hooking on to the little pumper they pulled it out…windshield and door glasses gone. Tries smoking-looking the worse for wear. The Louisville fire commissioner called a ceremony, honoring the Peewee Valley Fire Crew. “We want to give you this five-hundred check for your much-needed help in putting out the fire.” 

“How do you intend to use it?” the fire commissioner asked the ‘valley fire chief. 

“First thing I’m gonna’ do”, the chief said, “I’m gonna get them dad-blamed brakes fixed on that old fire truck!” 

Kindest regards……….