Excerpts from the DailyHerald.com:
"Your house is on fire!" were the words of my neighbor on my wife’s phone as we were walking to our car at O’Hare International Airport on January 17, 2016. I remember the shock that hit me instantly. My wife was completely overwhelmed, and I tried to reassure her it might just be a chimney fire and everything would be okay.
As we drove home, we received dozens of calls from concerned friends and family. We finally had to turn off our phones because the constant notifications were too much to handle. The drive to Lindenhurst felt endless, each mile stretching out like an eternity.
When we turned into our neighborhood, we saw a fire truck rushing down the street. I could no longer pretend to be calm — I needed to get there. As we rounded the corner, the reality hit us: our lives had changed forever.
There were four fire trucks, several police cars, and ambulances scattered around. Hoses were everywhere, and people stood in shock. As I approached, I could see my personal belongings through the broken windows and the scorched front door. The smell was unlike anything I had ever experienced — it was overwhelming, almost surreal.
I walked up, hesitant to interfere, and was greeted by neighbors and friends. But I kept moving forward for a closer look. That's when I met the firefighters, working tirelessly to contain the blaze. It was about 8 p.m., and the temperature was well below zero. Snow, ice, and water covered the ground. I watched teams of firefighters cutting holes in my walls, trying to reach the flames. At the time, I couldn’t understand why they would do that — didn't they know how much work it would take to fix everything?
A firefighter named Greg Phillips, covered in ice from the water, came over and apologized for what had happened. He explained the severity of the fire and told me our home was a total loss. He answered every question I had and described the challenges they faced during the operation.
Looking back, I can only imagine how hard it must be to tell someone their life has been turned upside down. It's not something you ever expect to hear, but it's something these brave men face every day.
For hours, I watched the firefighters battle the fire in freezing conditions, never once stepping away from their duty. By 2:30 a.m., the fire was finally under control. They had to cut open my living room floor to flood the basement and put out the last embers.
As I walked around to thank them, I patted them on the back and watched ice slide off their coats. They moved like the Tin Man from *The Wizard of Oz* — stiff, frozen, and exhausted. With temperatures dropping to 26 degrees below zero, they struggled to roll up their hoses. They even called for a pickup truck to help move the equipment.
Slowly, the trucks powered down, and each firefighter left, drained from the long night. They had worked for nearly 10 hours in brutal cold, risking their lives so that my family and I could still have a home. And yet, one by one, they came over to apologize and check on my daughter, who had been inside the house when the fire started. These were strangers, yet they showed more care than I could have imagined.
What I learned from this experience is that the Lake Villa Fire Protection District is made up of volunteer firefighters. They don’t do this full-time; they have other jobs and responsibilities. Yet, when the call comes, they drop everything and rush to help. After putting out the fire, they had to go home, get some rest, and return to their daily lives — all while having just fought a massive fire in the dead of winter.
I can’t thank everyone enough for their support. A neighbor I barely knew stood with me in the freezing cold, making sure I had blankets and jackets. People brought clothes, donations, and offers to help in any way possible. The Lindenhurst Police Department stayed nearby, keeping the crowd at bay and checking in on us. You can’t repay kindness like that, but I know that when it’s their turn, I’ll be there for them too.
This story is my way of saying I used to take the fire department for granted. My kids loved seeing the fire trucks in parades, thinking they were cool. I used to wave and move on. I’d drive past fire stations without a second thought. But now, I see them differently. These are real heroes — volunteers who risk their lives to protect us, to save our memories, our families, and our homes.
My family lost everything, but the fire didn’t take our hope. These firefighters didn’t give up. They fought through the worst weather Chicago could throw at them, through exhaustion, through danger, and still cared enough to keep going.
This weekend is Lake Villa Days, a celebration where the community comes together for music, food, and fun. I’ve been going for years, enjoying the bands, the beers, and the company of friends.
This year, I’m going for a different reason. The event is sponsored by the Lake Villa Firefighters Association, and I want to honor the men and women who risked everything to help my family. I want to thank Greg Phillips personally and all the firefighters who worked through the night. They are the ones who keep us safe, who put their lives on the line, and who have hearts of gold.
I hope after reading this, you’ll consider attending Lake Villa Days with a new perspective. If you see a firefighter, take a moment to say thank you. They are more than just heroes — they’re the backbone of our communities.
They are our heroes… trust me.
Thanks, Dan.
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