A Stormy Night That Changed My Life
One stormy night at Fire Station #14, my partner Joe and I heard a faint cry outside. We stepped into the cold and found a newborn left in a basket by the station wall—just days old, wrapped in a thin blanket.
We called Child Protective Services, and they took the baby in, naming him “Baby Boy Doe.” But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His tiny hand had gripped mine, and something shifted in me that night.
Weeks later, Joe asked what I’d been quietly considering: “You thinking about adopting him?”
As a single firefighter, the road to adoption wasn’t easy—long hours, endless paperwork, and constant evaluations. But when no one came forward, I knew I couldn’t walk away. That baby was left at our door for a reason—and I chose to be the one who stayed.
