Double LODD in Toledo, 1/26/14 (more)

Dan McInerney photo

Dan McInerney photo

Dan McInerney photo

Also from Dan, here is the program from the service.

Drew Smith found this editorial piece from the Toledo Free Press that was published before the funerals:

Ever since the first snowstorm hit and Northwest Ohio was buried under almost two feet of snow, this winter has felt different. In recent years, we’ve had some surprisingly mild winters, especially for where we live and our history. When the near-blizzard of 2014 struck, I saw posts from family members of local firefighters and police officers on social media, highlighting how dangerous their jobs had become.

While we were all safely tucked in during a level 3 snow emergency, these brave men and women were out in the worst conditions. Police were on icy roads rescuing drivers who shouldn’t have left their homes but needed to pick up something quick from the mall. Firefighters faced more calls than ever—ranging from health-related emergencies to fires caused by faulty electric heaters.

All of this was happening while people shared water-based "Mr. Wizard"-style experiments showing just how cold it was. We were amazed, but few of us stopped to think about those who had to use water in these conditions to save lives or buildings.

The events of January 26 made this winter unbearable.

There’s something about my West Side neighborhood that seems to produce a lot of teachers, police officers, and firefighters. One of my classmates lost her husband, the father of her children, when TPD Detective Keith Dressel was killed in 2007. I remember being shocked when I saw her face on TV, how it immediately hit me in the stomach and brought tears to my eyes. This wasn’t in New York or Chicago—it was right here in Toledo. I thought about her kids and how their lives had been changed forever by their father’s heroism and by a coward.

My Sunday was filled with comfort—wine, a warm fire, and good TV. But my phone kept lighting up with unanswered texts from people asking if I knew one of the firefighters who had died. I had no idea what was going on. I reached out to friends and family who are connected to the fire department. The first name I heard was Machcinski, and my heart dropped. Everyone in Toledo knows a Machcinski—Steve and I went to Whitmer together.

The second name came with a story that made it even harder. The other firefighter, James Dickman, was new to the Toledo Fire Department and a new father. How proud he must have been, after years of hard work, finally achieving his dream. His future was bright, just like the flames he would soon face—and then it was all gone in an instant.

I realized that new faces would now join Danielle Dressel and her children. Two more families had lost sons, brothers, husbands, and in Dickman’s case, fathers. Two men who left for work never returned, all because they wanted to keep us safe while providing for their loved ones.

This didn’t happen in Detroit or Chicago—it happened on Magnolia Street. We’re lucky that we haven’t seen more incidents like this in our area. Our luck ran out yesterday.

Please join me. As a sign of respect, love, and gratitude for the two lives lost and those who survived, I think we should line the streets during the funeral processions and say goodbye to these heroes and their families. Let’s show them that their sacrifices won’t be forgotten, and their names will be remembered. Let’s remind the world that the people who carry ladders and hoses or guns are real heroes. Let’s teach our children what a true superhero looks like and what the noblest jobs are.

It may be -50 degrees outside when these fallen heroes pass by for the last time, but the weather shouldn’t stop you. It didn’t stop them when they fought that fire. It will once again remind the world of the strength and heart we have. On what could be the coldest day in recent decades, let’s give warmth to those who need it most.

If your heart isn’t broken or heavy, then you probably aren’t from the 419. We all complain about how miserable this winter feels, but 99% of us have no idea how cold and dangerous it really has been.

To the grieving families and fellow firefighters of the Toledo Fire Department: I am truly sorry for your loss. These lives will not be forgotten.