Recently I had the opportunity to attend the dedication of a renovated fire station headquarters to its former fire chief. The dedication followed the department's annual fire prevention awards ceremony, but because I mixed up my times, I arrived early enough to catch both.

As fire commissioners, trustees and officers of the department recognized the heroic efforts of a couple police officers and citizens, I looked around at the assorted firefighters who filled the apparatus floor where the ceremony was held. Quite a few of the department's 133 uniformed personnel were present. As the emcee announced the awards to individual firefighters and crews for their distinguished service, there was a camaraderie that was tangible. Beneath the good-natured hoots and hollers was pride -- real, honest-to-goodness pride -- in their fellow firefighters.

In the brief time between the awards ceremony and the dedication of the fire station, citizens filed out while others arrived for the next program. As elders of the village, state dignitaries, and retired chiefs and officers walked into the building, there was almost a solemnity or a reverence. The renovated headquarters building would be named for the Chief Emeritus during the dedication ceremony. As he arrived with his family, it was tough not to think about the first time I met him 34 years ago.

The gold badge rode high on the tall, cigar-smoking fire chief who would take on the volunteers of the small fire department. It seemed like not a week went by without new rules and regulations upsetting someone in the department and unleashing a flurry of protests. Traditions were chipped away, and the good-old days came to an end. Some volunteers felt pushed out, and the new full-timers (most from the ranks of the volunteers) withstood the verbal assaults while implementing new procedures.

Toward his later years, complaints were heard that the chief was never around and was off "gallivanting" around the country. In fact, the chief had created a solid incident command structure ahead of its time. He encouraged personal responsibility and development into new areas of fire and emergency response. He was involved on a national basis, 20 years ago, teaching disaster managers to "Think Big" at the Emergency Management Institute. In fact, officers and firefighters from his department were instructors in state and national conferences.

So here they were again that Saturday morning to honor the chief. He had retired more than a decade ago, but what he built was still in place. In the awards ceremony preceding this dedication, I saw the legacy continue. Chiefs will change, officers will come and go, but the pride is passed on one generation at a time. Every time a retiree stops in a station, every time an incident is rehashed or a story told, the legacy is rekindled and the flame is passed on.

Janet Wilmoth, Editorial Director
janet@firechief.com