Taking the Time to Remember

I work for the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation and one of the things I receive about every three days (or more or fewer, depending) is a notification that a firefighter has died in the line-of-duty. Since 2004, this nation's fire service has made an incredible effort to prevent serious line-of-duty injuries and deaths, but the number is stubborn and drifts up or down from about a hundred every damn year. With deep embarrassment, over the years I have gotten into a terrible pattern of opening the email and glancing over the name to the cause of death: vehicle roll-over ("she was driving too fast,") getting thrown from the rig ("he wasn't wearing a seatbelt" said with some amount of incredulousness), or the perennials heat stress; cardiac arrest ("please take better care of yourself / exercise /eat right / don't do this job in your 70s and 80s.") Over the past decade, we have also learned the impact that job-related stress can also exert with terrible outcomes such as death by suicide.

And now comes the Covid-19 deaths. Yesterday, for example, I received a notice from the United States Fire Administration that Deputy Fire Chief Edward J. Ciocca of the White Plains (NY) Fire Department had died on May 1^st from the coronavirus. There have been other notifications (especially from the FDNY) of firefighter LODDs from the virus, but I made myself focus on Chief Ciocca and really tried to hold him and his family in my heart and prayers. In doing so I realized that I had developed a terrible pattern of assigning these men and women to the things they died of (seatbelts, heart attacks, speeding) rather than valuing them for what they meant to their families, their departments and their communities. Our country.

I haven't been able to find out a whole lot about Chief Ciocca, but probably enough to determine that his death was great blow to his fire service and family. He was 62, a second generation firefighter, 35 years on the job who rose to the rank of Deputy Fire Chief (just like his dad before him) and was described as a "loving father, son, brother, a leader and a caring friend." I think those are pretty great qualities... which brings me to my point.

I would like to never scan a firefighter line-of-duty death notice in approximately three seconds, just summarizing how the person died and assigning judgment. I abhor that I let myself become so callous and mentally lazy.

To Deputy Chief Ciocca's family and co-workers: I am sorry for the loss of your great hero. Eventually, you will be invited to a national day of remembrance and I hope to be in attendance among the many who will be there in person, and more who will watch virtually. This will be our country's time to honor the Deputy Chief and all of you who are his survivors.

JoEllen Kelly