one twenty-three.


Friday night the city of Chicago lost one of its firefighters (a Captain, to be exact). I heard about it on Facebook before I watched the news. A few of my grammar school friends are on the department and they usually post updates way before the general media. And while I’m always saddened to hear such news, my reaction to it may surprise you.

I am married to a career firefighter. Despite a family tree devoid of any fire service experience, my husband has known since he was four years old that he wanted to a fireman. He’s got a four-year degree as well as a masters in Public Administration. He’s a captain on one of the seventh largest departments in the state of Illinois and he works his ass off. It’s a job that drives him crazy, keeps him busy, makes him feel alive and like he’s contributing and…

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