Some years ago, during a blazing hot summer, there was a spate of forest fires in various parts of Ireland. They all came at the time when the oil wells in Kuwait were being blown up, and ‘Red Adair’ became a legend through his methods of putting them all out.
Just outside Dublin, one of the prettiest areas of woodland you could shake a stick at, became subject to an ill-advised fag end, and a small fire started in the tinder dry brushwood.
The fire soon began to expand, and the Mayor, a kindly, honest man named O’Donaghue, became somewhat agitated, as he lived close by, at the bottom of a long hill, near which, his estate boundary was situated. He had extensive woodlands there, and the fire was not that far away.
As the danger increased Mr O’Donaghue decided to take the matter in his own hands, and made a public request for any ideas to extinguish the fire. The Dublin authorities were under no illusions as to what might happen to them, if his property was affected, so they called a meeting.
The eventual outcome was that someone would be sent to find out if Red Adair could help, but they were quickly rebuffed, partly because the Adair name was so well occupied in the oilfields, he really couldn’t take the chance and pop over to Ireland for the week, and help, and also he’d want a million Euros for the privilege.
Now, while Mr O’Donaghue wasn’t a pauper, he did have some conditions, mainly placed by various legal requirements involving ex-wives etc., this would have been out of his league anyway.
One evening while he was partaking of a bottle of Bushmills and a peat sandwich, there was a knock on the door, and a bedraggled man, with a couple of mates, stood there, with hands on their caps, wringing them to death.
He reminded himself that he was still Mayor, despite the faint smell of smoke coming from his private forest, and beckoned the chaps inside.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, gentlemen’? He enquired.
‘Well, Sor, we are fighters of the fire, and understand that you have a bit of a problem over yonder’, replied the vociferous one (the others remained silent).
‘This is true’, said the Mayor, ‘and our local fire service has too much on its hands to help much, despite the fact that I am Mayor’.
‘Let me introduce myself, Mr Lord Mayor your Worship Lordship. I am known as Green Adair, and I can take the job of putting out your fire for the sum of twenty thousand Euros. I have my own secret methods, but I assure you of success’.
Mayor O’Donaghue sat the men down, opened another bottle of Bushmills, and they discussed the terms, after which hands were shaken, and a deal struck for work to start within the hour, despite there being absolutely no idea on how the job would proceed.
With the flames approaching the farmstead, Mr O’Donaghue wondered after forty-five minutes, whether he had been sold a pup, as he’d paid a deposit of a thousand Euros to Green Adair, and for the remainder of the fee, he wanted success of course.
So the Mayor went outside to watch the rapidly approaching smoke, and to his surprise, he saw, at the top of the hill, an elderly Range Rover appear over the brow, and descend towards his woodland at an alarming rate of knots.
The old car squeaked and banged all over the place, until it disappeared into the burning wood with several shouts of anger, and some even worse exclamations!
Out of the Range Rover, a dozen stout Irish gentlemen erupted and rushed around, with absolutely no water pumping apparatus or protection, and stamped their big boots everywhere at such a frenzy, shouting obscenities and worse, yelling at their mates, bellowing at Green Adair, but after about half an hour, there was absolutely no sign of the fire, which had been completely obliterated!
Mr O’Donaghue stared at the last smouldering embers, and watched as the men all emerged from the embers, covered in soot, and grime!
They all gathered on the porch of Mr Donaghue’s house, and he handed round drinks for everyone, including an envelope with the fee requested by Mr Adair.
‘So now, Mr Adair, I can safely say that you are a splendid sort of firefighter, never afraid of hard work, and your money is safely with you now! Just out of interest, may I ask what you intend to spend it all on please’?
‘Well Sor, this is mighty fine of you to settle our agreement so quickly, and I tink the first thing I’ll do is get the brakes fixed on that blasted Range Rover’!