It was the Friday before the Christmas week and most employees were taking the next week or two off to be with family and friends. That morning Earl, our supervisor with his office upstairs, told the three of us sale administrators in the downstairs office to come to his office at 4 pm, which was a half hour before quitting time. At the end of the day we ventured up stairs where Earl proceeded to pull a bottle of Jack Daniel's from a deck drawer and we all had a drink or two from paper cups. It didn't take long to get into the holiday spirit with that stuff. At quitting time the rumor was that the party would continue in the upstairs office over the fire warehouse near the back of the compound. At the time my wife, two young children and I lived in a government house on the station, so driving home was not a problem. As we walked from our office building back to the warehouse we were feeling no pain and the festivities were well under way. It was turning dark as some of our wives showed up to persuade some of us it was time to come home. It was good my wife came to get me as I don't think I could have found my way in the dark. It was the last Christmas party of this magnitude I remember on a ranger station. Every Christmas party after that was family oriented minus the alcohol.
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