Imagine My Embarrassment! When the Chief and his armed firemen arrived— Illustrated by “Art” Espey IT was noon in the local room and the typewriters were beating out a merry rat-tat-tat. Outside the rain came down in torrents. A much-needed thunderstorm was deluging the streets and bringing relief to our sun-scorched city after a prolonged heat wave. This reporter was assigned to write the usual “weather story” that follows such an event. As I sat at my typewriter, thinking up a suitable “lead,” a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a terrific clap of thunder, caused me to jump from my chair. “Boy, I’ll bet that bolt hit something near here,” I thought to myself. “Guess I’ll call the fire department and make sure before I write my story.” I picked up the telephone and nonchalantly asked the operator for the fire chief’s “private” number. This particular number did not…
