A tube of blue paper was tossed onto my driveway a few weeks ago. It was an ad for a carpet cleaning company, but amidst the usual sales gibberish was a drawing of a check for $3 made out to the New York Firefighters Memorial Fund. A minute line of type read, “A check will be given to each customer payable to the New York Firefighters Memorial Fund,” presumably for the customers to mail to New York themselves.

Well-meaning intentions can be blurred when advertising for charities gets involved. What percentage of monies reaches the families? What proceeds are forwarded? The money contributed to the families of World Trade Center victims will exceed $1 billion. Of that, more than $300 million is targeted for the lost emergency personnel.

However, we can't put a price on a human life. In Ashton, Ill., a firefighter died in an October scuba-diving incident. For that small town of 2,000 people, the loss of one community member was devastating, but no fund was established. A Port Townsend, Wash., firefighter collapsed of a heart attack while responding to a false alarm in September. This was the department's first line-of-duty death since the early 1940s, and it shook both the department and the community. However, no fund was established.

As I write this, the International Association of Fire Fighters has announced that it collected $111 million for the families of firefighters lost at the World Trade Center. We commend the IAFF for their low-key collection and distribution of those funds. I hope those families want for nothing financially.

My hope is the same for the families of the firefighters in Ashton, Port Townsend and countless other communities. You can't put a price tag on a life, and there is no way to make up for that lost spouse, parent or child. If a firefighter dies to save his or her community, shouldn't the community take responsibility for looking after the family left behind?

According to current figures, one firefighter dies in the line of duty every three days. For most of these firefighters' families, there is no fund to come to their aid. In pockets throughout the country, however, counties have what's called a Hundred Club that responds when a police officer or firefighter is killed in the line of duty. The first Hundred Club was started in 1950 by Detroit businessman Bill Packer following the death of a police officer on Christmas Eve. Packer was so moved he called 100 of his friends and asked each to donate $100 for the officer's family.

There are now 108 Hundred Clubs run by civilians across the country. Donations to the clubs are invested, and when a police officer or firefighter is killed in the line of duty, the local county's Hundred Club members will quickly present a check to the family. I could suggest a national Hundred Club be created for firefighter LODDS, but we don't need any more funds, and we don't need any more hands on money destined for firefighters' families.

I would hope that once the families of Sept. 11 have been well taken care of, some portion of those millions could be put aside for future LODDS, because there will be more — without the national outpouring of support that Sept. 11 inspired. Not one family of a firefighter killed in the line of duty should be at a financial loss because of their loved one's heroism.

Wishing you health and peace for the New Year.