December 1 – “Pretty impressive”

We went to the funeral yesterday of retired fire department captain Ed Atkins who also was the father of a Seasider from a ways back (James).  The church was divided into four sections of seating, and one entire section was pretty much filled with uniformed fire department personnel, there to honor the captain.  Pretty impressive. 

The fire department honor guard stood casket watch throughout the visitation, and the changes of the guard were crisp and respectful.  I have to give kudos to Matt Gonzalez.  He did a really good job in his first time coordinating the honor guard for the event.  It is a most daunting task, and one filled with great responsibility, to deal with the personalities of a family in the throes of grief as well as directing the fire fighters who are there to perform their assigned tasks.  Not to mention connecting with and combining forces, so to speak, with the funeral home director of the event and the church where the service is to be held.  That’s just a lot to get a handle on.  Pretty impressive.

Recent retiree Paul Chide delivered a fine eulogy, and several other retired fire fighters recalled their days of service with Ed.  Retired Chief Varela even recalled a canoe trip Ed talked him into that turned into somewhat of a disaster, at least for Chief Varela.  Sounded like Ed had a great time.  In fact, from the stories shared it sounded like Ed always managed to find a way to have a great time, no matter what was going on around him.  Pretty impressive.

James shared of a time when he was a kid, sitting on the kitchen counter helping his Dad with the dishes.  He slipped off that counter and was headed for a head-on collision with the kitchen floor when his Dad grabbed him at the last second and swooped him back up to his perch.  Saved James from, at the very least, a very painful smash to the face.  And the only comment Dad made?  “Where you going, boy?” as if James was trying to escape to go play in the back yard.  What a great picture of a fire fighter’s response.  Make a save and then pass it off as “Just doing my job.”  Pretty impressive.

It was great to see the union fire truck there and the casket delivered to the cemetery on board.  It was great to see the array of cars attempting to follow in the procession.  So many so, in fact, that some of us were cut off when the police escort had to break away to block off the next exits.  Pretty impressive.

Probably the most important part of Captain Atkins’ life that was shared revolved around the fact that he was a Christian.  He apparently loved attending church, and touched a lot of lives.  With the types of things a fire fighter sees day in and day out - destruction by fire, carnage at the site of auto accidents, destruction in the wake of family violence, lives hanging in the balance as the fire fighter “does his job” of keeping the patient alive and getting him to the medical care he needs – I can’t think of anything more effective at combating stress and marital struggles and outright PTSD than a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and a connection to a church family.  Pretty impressive.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 says, “Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.  We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.  According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep.  For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first.  After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.  Therefore encourage each other with these words.”

Father, be with James and the rest of Captain Atkins’ family as they walk through their grief.  Thank you for the assurance they have to draw on that he is with you now.  That’s … pretty impressive.  Amen.