In Honor
The haunting sound of the lone bagpipe lingers in my ears. There isn‘t a dry eye as I watch the final hugs at the cemetery. I am miles away at the studio of WKRC-TV in Cincinnati trying to add a firefighter‘s perspective to the procession, the mass at St. Peter in Chains Cathedral, and their burial at Spring Grove Cemetery. With the news anchors, Kit Andrews and Rob Braun, we‘ve been on the air for six hours of uninterrupted coverage. No commercials, no soap operas, just a tribute to the fallen firefighters, their families and the fire service. Literally thousands of viewers are mourning their loss.
Perhaps receiving the Secret List for many years has numbed my mind, or perhaps it was the number of LODD investigations I’ve been involved in. But this time it‘s different; this time it‘s my family.
In the early morning of April 4, Colerain Township Fire Capt. Robin Broxterman and Firefighter Brian Schira died — swept from us by some invisible hand that seems to take our best and brightest in an instant — even though fire operations followed the SOP and everything was “textbook.” The tragedy defiantly announces that the job, despite our best efforts, is inherently dangerous.
I served at Colerain for 27 years and still live within the district; my own department is less than five miles from its border. Our departments are intertwined. We operate nearly the same and, more importantly, our people know each other and train together. Robin became a part-time firefighter while I was still a Colerain assistant chief, and I remember her even before then because she is the daughter of Don and Arlene Zang, both former Green Township firefighters. I remember her smile, her laugh, her ponytail, her two young daughters. Mostly I remember how she came to Wyoming‘s aid as a firefighter/paramedic on Colerain‘s Engine 26 when two of our Wyoming firefighters were critically injured as they fell from a roof in 2004.
Brian was relatively new to Colerain, but worked part-time at both Colerain and Delhi townships to gain experience while also holding a full-time job at a nearby Home Depot. The times our paths crossed were few, but I remember him as a likeable young man who always addressed me as “Chief,” whether at the fire station or at Home Depot.
After an LODD, a literal army of firefighters swings into action. Departments from across greater Cincinnati continually staff Colerain‘s five stations for four days — no citizen or area is left unprotected. Colerain fire officers divide over a dozen areas of responsibility in preparation for the funeral, shadowed by officers and firefighters from other departments. The Cincinnati Fire Department — which experienced it’s own LODD five years before at the death of Firefighter Oscar Armstrong — takes the lead with the assistance. No family request is overlooked.
In tribute, Ohio Gov. Ted Strickland, State Fire Marshal Michael Bell and more than 7,000 firefighters and families attend the combined visitation on Tuesday. The cathedral can seat only 2,000; 10,000 stand outside the cathedral and the cemetery. Firefighters from as far away as Australia were there — they had to be there — to pay honor to their comrades. Thousands more line the seven-mile processional route and fire apparatus spans as far as any eye can see, no matter how high the vantage point. Tens of thousands more watch on TV, in their homes, schools, stores and offices. E-mails stream into the TV station as ordinary people from all over the United States, including my son and daughter-in-law in Hawaii, watch the live stream on the Internet. And then there is the final ringing of the bell, the final dispatch over the radio, and the haunting sound of the lone bagpipe.
Robin and Brian are laid to rest. The investigation continues. I‘ve been through the fire-ravaged house and have seen where they fell. I‘ve watched and marveled as the Schira and Zang families celebrate the lives of their son and daughter and have allowed us to honor them as well.
Stay safe!
