My Best Friend

My best friend and wife suffered a heart attack Wednesday night. She gently woke me up around nine p.m. and said softly, “Darling, I think I am having another episode.” We both knew what was happening because this was her third attack in ten years.

While I was dressing, she called 911 and within three minutes a fire truck arrived in front of the house. Three young heroes came inside the house and readied my wife for the trip to the hospital. Their professionalism was profound, but tempered with humor and genuine caring. Thank, God, the station is just down the hill from where we live in Camp Verde, Arizona. As it turns out, all the ambulances were on call and we had to wait for one to arrive from Cottonwood, which is about twenty minutes away.

Each fireman had a distinct role and each performed their assigned tasks superbly. Their extensive training was evident and at no time did my wife or I feel distressed because we had to wait for an ambulance. Everything was under control and my wife’s wish not to be administered nitroglycerin was acknowledged and she was given morphine to ease the pain in her chest and arms.

The ambulance arrived with two paramedics and wifey was put on a gurney, loaded and whisked away. Meanwhile the firemen picked up every little scrap of paper or anything else dropped on the floor before they left with me following at their heels thanking them profusely for all their help.

After putting our dogs in their crates, I locked the house and headed for the hospital. When I arrived, my wife was in a room, comfortable and waiting for the ER doctor. She is OK, but will have to remain in the ICU while they try to figure out why this episode happened again.

In the meanwhile, I am going to submit this blog to the “Bugle”, which is our local newspaper. Our little fire department performs these miracles on a daily basis and they need to be commended for a job well done. We sometimes forget just how important emergency services are in our community, which includes the Marshal’s office. They too are just down the road from our house. My wife and I are grateful for the sense of security we enjoy because of these two departments.

Kudos, ladies and gentlemen, you deserve it!

I’m just saying,

Mitt Winstead

Arizona Monsoon

Down through history, Native Americans have prayed and danced for the monsoon to sweep over Arizona and quench its summer thirst. I too have been praying for the very same thing. I am sure I was not alone; all Arizonians were praying for the sound of thunder that announces the rainy season.




We have been fighting huge fires that have burned homes and businesses and displaced thousands of families, to say nothing of the destruction of thousands of acres of forest and its wild inhabitants. As I listen to the thunder this morning, I give thanks to the Great Spirit for blessing us with rain, even though the storms have caused some damage, as they do occasionally – the benefits far outweigh the negatives.




Surely the rain is welcomed by the hundreds of men and women who have been battling raging fires all over our state. Even though the battle is not over, Mother Nature has agreed to help our brave and exhausted firefighters.




Thank you, Mother Earth, for all your blessings….




I’m just saying,

Mittster