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The Big Leak

November, Nineteenth, started out, an ordinary day,

Vancouver's rains, came tumbling down, and ducks began to play.

Meanwhile at Three Twelve Main Street, the water formed a pool,

Atop the roof it gathered, the temperature was cool.

Reports were coming quickly, from the cops upon their beats,

Of fairly widespread flooding, at intersecting streets.

Thirty thousand gallons, the barest estimate,

Sat on the roof awaiting, a little twist of fate.

When suddenly it happened, a drainpipe broke apart,

Then in poured all that water, but that was just the start.

It travelled quickly downward, pooling in the walls,

Gathering in the ceilings, dripping in the halls.

Inspector Laughy's office, the first to spring a leak,

Sustained some water damage, the ceiling tiles were weak.

The flood continued onward, through offices and floors,

pouring down the stairways, seeping under doors.

Then came Crown Liason, where a waterfall began,

Spurting through the nail holes, down the walls it ran.

Soaking down computers, report forms and the like,

I think the little Dutch boy, pulled his finger from the dike.

At the counter sat George Goodall, the Corporal of the night,

Who did his best to battle, but quickly lost the fight.

So, the whole darn building, was getting very wet,

And George worked on undaunted, his destiny was met.

There are many unsung heroes, in this little tale of woe,

Who worked hard around the building, to maintain the status quo.

Most will go unmentioned, the Corporal has your name,

But, bow a special thank you, to the firemen who came.

This year will be remembered, for many different things,

One Hundred Years of service, and missing emerald rings.

But inside the Safety Building, is the wonder of them all,

The first Police Department, with an indoor waterfall.

PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 861120 (29)