My grandfather was fire chief for fifteen years. He had joined the fire department as a young man not yet nineteen. Never had he seen the devastation fire leaves behind on lives and property. Many times, he had returned from a major fire only to have a drink and sit by himself. He was not one to discuss his job in cases like this fire that had killed four children and their mother.

Grandfather rose in the ranks from a new recruit to fire chief in fifteen years. That seemed short to most, but grandfather dreamed as a young boy of serving others as a member of the fire department. His city of employment was bustling. His job required long hours and time away from family. Time off was spent at the park, the library, or just at home with his little girl.

Years passed. His little girl, my mother, became a young woman. She always remembered her father as one who would not cower in the face of danger. Although he was quiet about the times he spent at the scene of a major fire, she always knew when he had been on scene of a deeply, troubling fire. How different was his mood after a fire that caused damage but no loss of life and one that resulted death. She knew when he had attended a fire where people had perished. In addition, she remembered the time he helped in the aftermath of a fire at an abandoned two story home. He recovered a curved glass wooden China cabinet that became one of his prized possessions.

There were happy occasions during his tenure as chief. There were many celebrations of birthdays, anniversaries, births, and the proud knowledge that he helped rescue countless people confronted by serious danger. He fondly remembered his firehouse winning first prize for having the most beautiful rose garden on site. His station won a wall clock. Many years later, he was ceremoniously given that clock upon his retirement. That clock, now an antique, ticks proudly in the home of his grandson.

Grandfather set a prime example for his men. He supported them in their time of need. He allowed time off for family leave before today's family leave laws. He attended educational events where he spoke of his job, family, and goal to instill younger, potential firefighters with the desire to serve others. Even a life threatening injury would not deter his love of firefighting. Racing to a fire with lights and siren blaring, his car was broadsided by another speeding car. My grandfather's driver died on impact, and he was hospitalized in serious condition. However after two months of recuperation, he returned to oversee his station and the department.

When September 11, 2001, 9-11, occurred, I knew my grandfather would have been devastated by the loss of life of the innocent and the loss of over three hundred firefighters. However, he was not alive at that time. I can only imagine how he would have felt after spending his life in the service of others. I know he would be among the first responders rushing into the burning buildings as others raced away from the carnage. Firefighters are ordinary people acting in extraordinary ways.

My grandfather was a true hero. He was an ordinary man who acted in an extraordinary way.