The Elkhart County Fire Department

is like the Titanic.

I have a tendency to cry when I watch America’s Got Talent. Probably part of this is succumbing to the emotional catharsis intentionally created by America’s Got Talent—we’re often given the backstory of the performers, for whom the event is often a huge and symbolic moment after a lot of personal struggle; we’re brought along with the suspense; the moment of payoff for the performer is also payoff for us, as we find a little bit of our faith in humanity’s inherent beauty restored. I also cry when watching highlights from stadium tours, for similar reasons—they’re an emotional spectacle, tens of thousands of people singing in unison.

I usually don’t cry while I watch the local news from the recumbent bicycle at my local Salvation Army-run gym. Over my time at this gym I’ve started to have a connoisseur’s appreciation for local news: my favorite headline by far has been “CHARMING TOWN” (a feature on Winona Lake, IN, which was named one of 50 charming towns by HGTV and thus merited five to seven minutes of airtime discussing its charm).

CHARMING TOWN feat. elliptical

But the other day the first baby had been left in a Safe Haven Baby Box in Cleveland Township, Elkhart County. Someone had left their baby in the climate-controlled box at the fire department, and an alarm had set off as planned to alert the firefighters to the baby’s presence. Now that everything had gone as planned and the baby was safe at the hospital, everyone involved flocked to the local news—the firefighters, the news anchors, the aging mother of our former state representative, who tragically died in a car crash late last year—for one specific purpose: to get the message out to the mother, whoever she was, that she had made a good choice.