After 33 years in the service of others, Paul Roy retires from the Lewiston Fire Department.

Somewhere between 1:15 p.m. and 1:30 p.m., Engine 4 is due to come down Oak Street toward Central Fire Station. At 1:05 p.m., I’m standing on the corner of Oak and Blake streets with video camera in hand, ready to capture what is described as a firefighter’s “last ride.”

At 1:10 p.m., Engine 3 comes around the corner from Bates Street.

Is it my father? No.

At 1:15 p.m., Engine 5 comes down Blake. Is it Dad? No.

A sea of “yellow-green” vehicles now surround me. To my surprise and delight, I find out that all of these trucks and crews – five trucks and some 30 men and women, representing more than a third of Lewiston’s firefighting force – are converging to honor my father, Senior-Private Paul Roy, who was celebrating 33 years of dedicated service to the city of Lewiston.

At 1:30 p.m., here comes Engine 4!

Yes, it’s Dad!

Today he is being driven by his longtime platoon buddy, Lt. Louis Morin, who wants to honor his partner by driving for him, allowing his “elder” to assume the position of superior-in-command of this close-knit, four-member Sabattus Street platoon. (Lieutenants never drive, by the way).

Fire chief, captain, rookies and veterans, on- and off-duty firefighters, inspectors, office workers and immediate family hover and shake hands with this veteran, the most senior-private man on the force.

Yes, that’s my dad.

What my family thought was supposed to be a small gathering of firemen and a cake to celebrate his retirement turns out to be what some firemen describe as a tribute “like nothing they’d seen before.”

The usual five-minute “congratulations!” and “best of luck to ya!” retirement goodbye turns into an outpouring of emotion and love for a man whom everyone considers to be the best loved “old” guy on the force. Testimonials from longtime buddies and platoon mates mention my dad as someone they “continually learn from,” someone they’ll “miss dearly.”

He is a man, they say, who never had a bad day, a guy who always had a story to tell and someone who could make every story seem like the most incredible adventure.

Halfway through the speeches, the phone rings. It’s the only immediate family member missing, my sister, calling from Las Vegas to let Dad know that she s proud of him and there in spirit.

The call ends up being a relief to the crowd, offering everyone the chance to catch their breath and hide or wipe a tear.

Then it’s Dad’s turn. How will he respond? Can he speak to these men without breaking down?

He does. With a sweet genuineness, he recalls his very first fire. He tells how working with the guys, even as a 63-year-old, he’s always felt no older than 30. He mentions how much he has enjoyed “off-duty” time with the guys ice fishing up in Jackman. And though an off-duty injury has forced him to retire just a little sooner than he would have liked, there is always “something good that comes out of the bad.”

This is my Dad, the ever-upbeat optimist, facing the newest challenge in his life. Pension and insurance worries aside, won’t it be great to plan that next fishing trip, Christmas dinner, or hike with the grandkids, without having to think, “Am I on’ or off’ duty?”

The event concludes with Dad back in the driver’s seat for the remainder of his “last ride,” driving his platoon mates, his wife of 42 years (her first ride ever! “Aah, the life of a firefighter’s wife!” well that’s another story) and two of his grandkids to his home, lights ablaze and sirens blaring!

What a sight and what a sound! I will never forget it. As I’m sure my family can attest, we are so proud of Dad, and proud to be part of this very special extended family: once in the firefighter family, forever in the firefighter family.

Tammy Roy Caron’s father retired from the Lewiston Fire Department in April.

Copy the Story Link