Help for a fallen hero


		Friday, Dec. 24, 2004

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Help for a fallen hero

Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.

By RICK RYCKELEY
Contributing Writer

I met the young man years ago, right after he was born. I never thought much about him; he was just one more kid who had been born on my street that year. As usually is the case with a new arrival to families, relatives and neighbors lined the street with their cars as they paraded through the small house to see the new mom and baby. At 22, single and the newest homeowner on the street, I didn’t really think much about marriage or babies and was in no hurry to see one. Little did I know, that years later I would be seeing a lot of little baby they had named Josh.

After a month or so, I too made my way across the street to the small white clapboard house trimmed with blue shutters, but not to see the new addition to the neighborhood. I was in need of a pipe wrench. The kitchen sink had backed up again, just one of a myriad of problems that arise when a house is 30 years old. It was Saturday about noon when I knocked on the red door and a haggard-looking, sleep-deprived dad opened it with little baby Josh in his arms. They had been up all night because the new baby had colic. I must admit, the brown-haired, light blue-eyed baby was adorable, but I just needed a pipe wrench.

After an hour of fending off spiders and long-legged cricket and finding two water leaks I didn’t know I had, the drain pipe was finally fixed. I returned the wrench and coaxed a smile from little Josh. Actually, I think he probably had gas. Such was my life for the next four years. When I needed a tool, it was but a short walk across the street to the little white house with blue shutters. After a knock on the red door, away I came with what I needed. I also came away with a smile after seeing how happy my neighbors were with baby Josh.

Over the next four years, especially every time I went over to borrow tools from his dad, I saw little Josh as he grew. He played in the front yard with his toys and his mom was always there to dote over him while dad was off at work. On the weekends during the summer, his dad blew up a little kiddie pool, filled it full of water, and watched baby Josh splash around with his rubber duck for hours. But his favorite toy over the years was a red fire truck.

The last time I saw little Josh he had just turned four; I was returning a cordless screwdriver I had borrowed to fix a kitchen cabinet door that had fallen off. I was selling the house and moving out of our little neighborhood. It was time for me to get married and, who knows, maybe even have a little boy of my own. Little Josh still had dark brown hair, but his baby blue eyes had turned a light brown, and the facets sparkled in them as he smiled and waved good-bye. He was so full of life back then. Hard to believe that one day he would be diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor.

After the move I never thought again about baby Josh. Through the next 20 years I joined the fire department and got married. The Boy was born, I got a divorce and I got married once again. During the summer, when he was young, I’d fill the Boy’s inflatable kiddie pool with water and watch as he splashed around with his rubber duck. But his favorite toys over the years were fire trucks.

Over the last 17 years, I’ve had the enjoyment of seeing my son grow up. I hope one day he might decide to serve his community as a firefighter. Like Josh got the opportunity to do.

Over the years at the county fire department, I have seen many recruitment classes come and go. The new faces, lined with stress as they studied hard to make it through the mental testing and the physical rigors of the 16 weeks, all seem to blend together after awhile. Except for one face three years ago. It was the face of a dark-haired young man with light brown eyes with facets that still sparkled. All grown up at 21, Josh had turned in his toy fire truck for a real one at the county fire department. Little Josh was going through our recruit class. After graduation from fire school, he studied for a year and received his EMT status and his new assignment to my station.

We worked side by side for the next year until we both got transferred to different stations. It was two years later, while reporting to duty, that he collapsed on the bay floor. He had severe headaches and serious vision problems. Josh went through a battery of tests, MRI’s, CT scans, and x-rays and was evaluated by a multitude of oncologists and neurologists. Diagnoses from all the doctors were the same: Josh had a brain tumor which was inaccessible.

Since then, his fellow firefighters have come together, and through personal donations and several charitable events, they have collected over $8,500 to continue his medical insurance and his co-pays. The Starr’s Mill National Honors Society has alone collected over $2,900. Citizens that have heard of his plight have dropped by and donated to help with his day-to-day expenses. Last month another MRI was done, and it looks as though the tumor is reducing in size. The many prayers of family and friends seem to have been answered; most of all, the prayers from his five-year-old daughter.

Josh is still out of work and his treatment continues. This year The Wife, The Boy and I have decided that in lieu of giving Christmas presents to family and friends, we will be giving a check to the Josh Warren Assistance Fund. If you so desire and the Christmas spirit moves you, all donations can be deposited at Wachovia Banks in the name of Josh Warren to go into the Josh Warren Assistance Fund. God bless you and your family for the help we hope you too will give to Josh and his family.