Whipped Cream Difficulties

I’m feeling down in the dumps to begin with, but I’ve been intending to make note of this story anyway.

Michael J. Fahy became a New York City firefighter in 1999, and he climbed the ranks of the department in the years after Sept. 11, when the terrorist attacks and a wave of retirements that followed stirred concern about a drain of experience and institutional memory.

His dad put in 33 years with the NYFD and retired as a battalion chief.

But he [Michael – DB] had also graduated from law school, passed the bar exams in New York and New Jersey and had earned a master’s degree in homeland security from the Naval Postgraduate School. His colleagues said he was focused and analytical, and had a genuine dedication to public service.

Michael Fahy also made it to battalion chief.

But the higher rank did not separate him from the people he commanded. He cooked with them and ate with them in the firehouse. And he responded to scenes with them, just as he did on Tuesday, facing the same dangers they did as he made decisions on how to handle fast-moving, chaotic situations.

“He was quiet, unassuming, but the guys knew, he was the boss when he came in,” Commander Fink said. “He took care of the guys, and the guys took care of him.”

Michael Fahy died on Tuesday. He and his men responded to a report of a residential gas leak: the house exploded and Chief Fahy was hit by pieces of it.

Sometimes there’s just nothing you can say.