Shock, disbelief, pain.
I stood there, head down, there were no words. What do you say to a friend who just told you her brother had died? No matter what your scrambling brain thinks up, it's inadequate, vacant, not enough.
I first met Greg in 1987 when I met my brother's wife and her family after returning from my mission. He was the youngest of four, the baby, but he was no baby. Greg had a quiet presence. He never dominated a conversation--it wasn't needed. To me, he watched, observed, took it all in, and when he did speak, you knew his words carried weight. I always thought that about him. He watched our world and lived in his own. And funny, that dry sense of humor...classic.
I watched him climb the ladder in his career and it always impressed. He rose through the ranks, firefighter, engineer, captain, battalion and deputy chief, then in 2024 he became South Davis Metro Fire Chief. Whenever we had the time to chat (which became rarer as the years flew by...), I loved talking to him about his world, a world I knew nothing about. He talked about the life of a firefighter, the ordering of a new truck and how much input he had in that decision. He also talked about the community of firefighters and how when one falls, no matter where in the country, all honor their service, their sacrifice.
Humbling.
One of my favorite memories was years ago. We took my mother to the emergency room and there was Greg, helping with the EMTs and emergency staff. That big smile. As we waited, I talked to the nurses about Greg. "You know Stewie?" they asked. We told them he was family. They gushed over him, said he was a pleasure to work with...one of the good guys.
Now, a nation of servants mourn with his family, for he was their family, too. The black across the South Davis Metro Fire Department banner signifies loss, a void where a light no longer shines. Greg...we love you and you are missed.
