Like an old engine, he gave all. Some knew him from his first day in the station. So new and shiny, everything polished, and everything new. All the fire fighters were glad to see him there.
Hands were shaken and smiles were displayed. As time passed things weren't quite as new, but nothing ever got old. No call was any less important than the one before. No money was earned, but time was given and all was taken. He took no time to show and took no time to help, but God's clock for him had stopped. He went in ready to fight, but no one saw him fall. Everything went well till the sky got hot. The room was dark, but now he sees the light. Some say a moment of silence fell upon the scene, for this no one had a reason. His crew was frantic and the excitement high. No one is to fault, but the pain will never cease.

To this man's wife a flag was given. To his son, the prized possession, the beautiful helmet a hero had worn too many times to count. His daughter, too young to remember, will always have the gift of history. The hero’s comrades will never let this story go untold. The station lied quiet for a day or two, but the life of a volunteer is never dull. The next call came in and the engines went out. God bless our fallen brother. He's 10-7, and not returning. Cry not for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

- Author unknown -