The Christmas Rescue

Issue 12 and Volume 144.

The Christmas Rescue (with apologies to Clement C. Moore) Twas the night before Christmas and all through the hall The trucks were all parked, ’cause there wasn’t a call. The gear was all hung in the lockers to keep And everyone hoped that the page wouldn’t beep. The guys were all home with their families to stay In hope that tomorrow would be a fine day. The dispatcher sat with the radio near She stifled a yawn, there was nothing to hear. The EMTs slept with their pagers quite close There wasn’t a run, or a patient to dose. The cops were just cruisin’ with nothing to do They looked for the bad gin s in groups of two. Then the silence was broken, the dispatcher jumped The phone was a-ringing, to the deck her feet thumped When she glanced at the console her blood started to run The incoming…

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