This the story of one man. He was a warrior in the guise of a firefighter. He took his life in his hands every day, whether at work or not, for it never occurred to him not to help. It never occurred to him to turn his back because the call was too dangerous or inconvenient.
He became a fireman in his twenties. No one was surprised since the only thing he loved as much as his family was helping those in need.
He and his wife wanted a big family and by the time they completed theirs, they had four boys. On his days off, he taught them how to fish, help work on their new house, play ball and be giving toward others.
Of course his wife’s biggest fear was that fire would claim his life. She could not have been more wrong. The end came when he and his brother decided to take the older kids camping for the weekend on a sandbar in the Alabama River. He drove the boys to the site. His brother promised to join them when he completed his work shift that afternoon.
He had the boys collect wood for a fire, while he set up the tents and put all camping equipment in order. After piling up a sufficient amount of wood, the boys begged to go swimming.
He preferred to wait for his brother, but their begging persisted and he gave in, telling them to stay at the shoreline. The river had a reputation for fierce undercurrents. More than one person had tested them and lost.
After thirty minutes, it was getting to be time for his brother to join them, so he told the boys to come out. Maybe they would fish and catch supper. His oldest nephew begged to swim just a couple of more minutes.
“Okay, but remember the rule. Stay close.” He turned back to light the fire when he heard a scream. Turning back to the river, he saw his nephew swept out to the center of the river, going down and fighting his way back to the surface.
Without another thought, he ran to the water’s edge and jumped in, forgetting in his haste to reach the boy, to remove the heavy fireman’s shoes he wore. He fought the currents and the deadly shoes to get to his nephew. As he reached him, the boy grabbed for him and wrapped both arms tightly around his neck. He could not pull the child away and they both sank beneath the water.
He struggled to the surface only once before the Alabama River claimed both of them forever. The children left on the bank ran for help. The oldest was nine years old. His cousin had been only ten. They found a house after running for an unknown amount of time, but were too late to save their dad, brother and cousin.
The man’s brother arrived to find an empty camp site and had no idea what had happened until the people the children found arrived back at the site.
This one man represents thousands like him who struggle to save homes, lives, and even our sanity while risking their own. They train hard. If they think of the risks, no one but another firefighter or another warrior is likely to know. They form a brotherhood, that only another warrior can pierce or understand.
This warrior was my uncle, my mother’s favorite brother. They grew up as playmates and in adulthood, they remained close friends. He had a smile for everyone and a love for living brighter than any I have ever seen. He was to be made captain of his station the day after that trip. Yet, in those few brief moments, he ran toward death trying to save another life.