Excerpts from the DailyHerald.com:
“Your house is on fire!†were the words my neighbor said on my wife’s phone as we were walking to our car at O’Hare International Airport on January 17, 2016. I still remember the shock that hit me when I heard those words. My wife was immediately overwhelmed with fear, and I tried to reassure her, saying it might just be a chimney fire and everything would be okay.
As we drove home, we received countless calls from friends and family, all filled with concern. Eventually, we had to turn off our phones to avoid the constant interruptions. The drive to Lindenhurst felt longer than usual, and each mile brought more anxiety.
When we turned into our neighborhood, we saw a fire truck rushing down the road. I could no longer pretend to be calm—I had to get there. As we rounded the corner, the reality of what was happening hit me hard. Our lives had changed forever.
There were four fire trucks, several police cars, and ambulances scattered around the area. Water hoses were everywhere, and people were gathered in shock. As I approached, I saw my personal belongings through the broken windows and the burned front door. The smell was something I had never experienced before—unreal, overwhelming.
I walked up, trying not to get in the way, but I was greeted by neighbors and friends. Still, I kept moving closer. That’s when I met the firefighters, working tirelessly to contain the blaze. It was around 8 p.m., and the temperature was well below freezing. I watched them cut holes in my walls with a circular saw, and at the time, I couldn’t understand why they needed to do that. I thought about how much work it would take to fix everything, but I quickly realized this wasn’t about me—it was about saving lives and homes.
A firefighter named Greg Phillips, covered in ice, came over and told me how sorry he was. He explained that the fire was severe and that my home would be a total loss. He answered every question I had, explaining the challenges they faced during the fire.
Thinking back now, I can only imagine how difficult it must be to deliver such news to a family. These men are not just professionals—they’re human beings who understand the weight of their words.
For hours, I watched the firefighters battle the flames in the freezing cold. At 2:30 a.m., the fire was finally out. They had to cut open my living room floor to flood the basement in order to put out the last of the flames.
As I walked around to thank them, I patted them on the back and watched ice fall from their coats. They moved like the Tin Man from *The Wizard of Oz*—frozen and stiff. With temperatures dropping to 26 degrees below zero, rolling up the hoses was nearly impossible. They had to call for a pickup truck to help move the equipment.
Slowly, the trucks powered down, and each firefighter was exhausted. They had spent about 10 hours in the cold, risking their lives so that my neighbors and I could keep our homes. Yet, one by one, they came over to tell me how sorry they were for my loss. They asked about my daughter, who had been inside the house when the fire started, and made sure she was safe. These were people I had never met, yet they did so much for my family that night.
What I learned from this experience is that the Lake Villa Fire Protection District is made up of dedicated volunteers. These men don’t do this full-time; they have other jobs. But when the call comes, they drop everything and rush to help. After working through the night, they had to go home and get some rest before returning to their regular jobs the next day.
I can’t thank everyone enough for their support. A neighbor I didn’t know very well stood outside with me in the freezing cold, making sure I had blankets and jackets. People offered clothes, donations, and help with anything we needed. The Lindenhurst Police Department stayed by the smoldering ruins, keeping people away and checking in on us. You can’t repay that kind of kindness, but I know 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 trucks in parades because they looked cool. I always waved and moved on, thinking of them as just part of the scenery. But now, I see them differently. These men aren’t just heroes in uniforms—they’re real people who risk their lives to protect us.
They fight through the worst weather, face danger, and still care about the people they save. I lost everything in that fire, but what matters most is that these brave individuals didn’t give up. They showed up, worked hard, and did what needed to be done.
This weekend is Lake Villa Days, an annual event where the whole town comes together. I’ve been going for years, enjoying the music, the food, and the company of friends. This year, I’ll be there for a different reason. The event is sponsored by the Lake Villa Firefighters Association, and I want to honor the men who saved my family.
I plan to find Greg Phillips and thank him personally, along with every firefighter who helped us that night. These are people who put their lives on the line to keep us safe. They have hearts of gold, and they deserve more than just a wave during a parade.
I hope after reading this, you’ll think twice about how you view firefighters. Take a moment to say thank you if you see them at Lake Villa Days or anywhere else. They are truly special people who deserve recognition and respect.
They are our heroes… trust me.
Thanks, Dan
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