Hunting Buddies and Coal-Fire-Orange

Open the draft on the stovepipe, shake the grate back and forth until you see some hot glowing coals drop into the ash pan, pour a coal bucket full of anthracite coal into the stove’s belly, and close the draft...I tried to give mom a break and “bank” the coal at night when I was home. Dad, unable to do physical work, was still a good supervisor, and his easy chair was positioned so he could watch the red coals drop. You wanted to see enough glowing orange in the ash pan to make room for an ample reload of coal to burn through the night but not too much red or the fire would go out. Long intro to say I know what “coal-fire-orange” looks like and I appreciate it.
     Today we see this color everywhere and call it “blaze orange”. It’s hard to believe that before the 1930’s our ancestors never saw it on anything other than fire, nor any of its fluorescent siblings like hot pink and safety yellow. The pigments simply didn’t exist!  Brothers, Bob and Joe Switzer literally invented the colors when Bob hit his head and had to recover in a dark basement. For entertainment they experimented with a black light and chemicals (eye drops and shellac from the family’s pharmacy) to create glow-in-the-dark and florescent colors which evolved into pigments that didn’t fade and actually glowed in the daylight. They aptly named their company Day-Glo and “Coal-Fire-Orange” debuted on a Sandusky, OH billboard in the 1940’s. Later the color was popularized in product packaging (think Tide) and was even utilized by our military during WWII for visibility and safety communications. Notably nobody embraced fluorescents more than the psychedelic hippies of the 60’s, unless it was their spandex and parachute-pants wearing children in the 80’s.
   Truth be told most of the people I know in WV have fluorescent clothing hanging in their closet right this very minute. Probably not much spandex (but who knows)—what’s important is the color—Blaze Orange. Because apparently when participating in firearm deer season, they must have 400 square inches of their body covered in it. I can still see my dad back in the day attaching red bandanas to his hat and coat with safety pins, which he vowed met the requirements (?).  He’d get his outfit ready the night before so he and his buddies could go hunt together at the crack of dawn.
      I don’t hunt but I have a hunting buddy—one who texts me from her hunting shanty. I remember vividly the time we were surrounded by a flock of wild turkeys which she described as surreal. I can still hear the wild gobbling ruckus I imagined.  Recently her text said a pack of coyotes were howling nearby and I was a bit unnerved by it all.  Another time a misty fog rolled in and we hoped her real-life hunting companion would come get her soon before I caught a cold. And then there was the text saying we got an 8 point with her bow-- and boy did we rejoice! 
     Back when she hunted with her husband instead of her phone-a-friend, they were sitting really still waiting.  There always seems to be a lot of waiting. Her husband pointed at something he wanted her to see.  Her eyes got large and she said, “Are you not afraid?” And he made a face and said, “It’s just a chipmunk!” She then directed his attention to what she was seeing, which from her position was an approaching black bear!
     To wrap it up, may we have a Father who supervises us, siblings to create with,  a friend who texts us from their hunting shanty, and  companions who wait with us and warn us of approaching danger. And this Christmas may our attention be focused on celebrating together the birth of Jesus, who through His blood on the cross covers us 100 percent in Safety Red.
    

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