Three Alarm Fire 🔥

My daughters dedication

Kelli Coleman is my daughter, unfortunately she died at the age of 19. Just two years after her father died. The one I dedicated this book to. He was a firefighter. This is what my daughter, Kelli wrote about him right after his funeral.

Please don't drink and drive, it hurts far more people than you realize.

From Kelli Coleman:

DADDY'S FUNERAL:
February 14th, 2015. FIrst Bapitst Church in Caruthersville, MO. I don't remember the time it started. Yeah, it was Valentine's day.. You might be wondering why would we ruin a holiday for ourselves? We didn't ruin it though.. we gave it a bigger meaning. We celebrate the day of love with laying my dad to rest in peace.
My mom wanted to spend one last Valentine's day with my dad. The least we could have done for my mom is to grant her that one wish. None of us kids cared what that holiday meant to anyone else. We cared about what it meant for my mom and my dad.
We celebrated Valentine's day as a family. Every year we would always get each other candy and cards, then we would go out to eat to celebrate Valentine's day plus our birthdays.
I remember his casket. It was a light royal blue. On the inside, had three little birds. Surrounding the birds were the words "I'm going home." It reminded me of the song "I'll fly away."
It was an open casket funeral. Thank you to the one who pulled my dad out of the van before it exploded. You are the sole reason we got to have a open casket funeral. I won't mention your name out of respect, but you know who you are. Thank you sir. So much.
My dad looked so peaceful. He was in his fire department uniform. I went up to his casket a couple times. I went up there with his youth group, The Firestarters. So many tears were shed. Then I went up there with his godsons. One dropped in a dollar bill because that's what my dad would always give them. I went up there with my family.. then I went up there by myself.
I leaned in and kissed his cheek. Tears fell on hs beautiful uniform. I put in a picture of him and I. I put in the necklace that he gave me. It was a silver cross. I kissed his cheek again. More tears fell, this time one hit his cheek. I didn't wipe it away though. I put my hand on his hand and smiled. I was just thankful that he was peaceful. I was thankful that we had a body. I was thankful that we got to lay him to rest.
I sat with my family. So many people came to us. They hugged us and kissed us. They said that they were sorry. I just kept my eyes focus on the casket. I was hoping he would just wake up. A part of me hoped it was a sick joke. I just wanted him to call me baby-girl one last time because I didn't know that the last time would be the last time.
I wasn't crying like everyone else was. I just had a stream of tears. My breathing remained steady though. It was just a constant calm cry. I don't know how I managed that.
People kept coming and going. Even firefighters from St. Louis showed up. It amazed me how many lives my dad touched. I remember so people coming up to me.. saying I only met your dad once, but I had to come say goodbye.
Rumor has it that it was an estimated two to four thousand people that showed up to say their goodbyes to my beloved dad.
The preacher that preached at my dad's funeral was Gary Mann. He was the preacher of Kinfolks Ridge Baptist Church. I don't remember what exactly he preached. He was one of my dad's best friend. I just knew he highlighted my dad's life. He gave so much honor and respect to my dad. Thank you for that.
There was also a slow show presented at the funeral. In every picture my dad was smiling. No matter what. He always had that goofy crooked little smile going on.
I remember two songs that played. One was "The Old Rugged Cross." Another one was a song that described my dad perfectly. If you know this song, then you know my dad. "Simple Man' by Lynard Skynard. If I could thank that band today I would. They gave us a song to remember my dad perfectly by. It's like everytime I play that song, I have a slideshow in my head of my dad, of all the good times we had together.
Next thing I know, we're walking out of the church. We line up on the side. The casket is closed. Felllow Firefighters that knew my dad were carrying the casket. I can't remember who all did it, I'm sorry. Then they lifted him on his firetruck. They were giving my dad one last ride on his firetruck. I smiled, having flashbacks of helping my dad wash that big chunk of metal after a fire just so I could spend time with him. He stayed so busy.
I remember riding behind the firetruck to the graveyard.. Then I remember walking up to the big hole. Tears fell now and then. I just didn't want to acccept what was happening, I suppose. They had chairs lined up for us. I sat down alongside my family.
Next thing I recall is the famous last call. It's like a pager test, but they're honoring the fallen firefighter. I just remember the tone of the pager. Then I remember "Bobby Coleman took his last watch February 11th, 2015. This is the last call for Firefighter 726. He has now retired to heaven." At least that's what my mind whats to remember what was said. It may not be the exact words, but that's how my heart heard it. The Last Call was so beautiful though. Thank you for whoever did that. There is a video of it, but I just can't listen to it to get the exact wording. My cries over rule the sound each time.
When I hear The Last Call, I lost it. I finally couldn't catch my breath. That's when it truly hit me. My beloved dad, my hero, my very best friend was no longer alive. That my dad would no longer walk through the door.
It hit me that the last time I hugged him, kissed him, exchanged "I love you," would all be the very last time. I would never hear his voice again, touch him again, or see him again in person. The last time we did anything, would be the last time. I didn't even get to celebrate our last birthdays together because the day we buried him, we were suppose to go to Lamberts.. It hit me that my dad was in that casket. It hit me that there would be no more firestation visits, there would be no more joking around, there would be no more of his food being cooked. I wouldn't even hear his snore again. I wouldn't be able to complain about his hair being white and grey anymore.
It hit me that there would no more of anything. It hit me that I have to cherish all the memories I have, all the items he left behind, all the stuff.. anything to do with him, I would have to cherish dearly to my heart because a drunk took my dad's life... because my dad died a hero, It hit me that our time together was over. I would never see him again. I would never see him dance again. I would never hug him again. It dawned on me that my dad would never come home again. In fact, what hurt me the most is my dad never got to come home that night. It hurts that we had no warning of his death. We had no plan.. we didn't know how to survive without my dad. I didn't know how to celebrate a birthday without him.
When the American Flag was given to my mother and other items were handed to my family, it really hit me that my dad would never see his grandkids. My dad would never give me away. My dad wouldn't see me go to prom. He wouldn't see me graduate or walk across the stage. He wouldn't see my get my CNA License. He wouldn't get to see my first vehicle, my first house, my first anything.
I realized all at once that he got robbed of how ever many years he had left. That his kids got robbed of their dad seeing any accomplished not yet met. His wife got robbed of many memories yet to be made, of many annieversaries yet to come. We got robbed of anything to do with my beloved dad all because of a drunk. We got robbed of our lives as we knew it.
I couldn't breathe. My body went numb. I watched the casket slowly dropped. I felt so many emotions all at once. The only thing I could comperhend was that my dad was dead. The only thing I was worried about was how my family would surivive through this because my dad was our lifeline.
I don't remember much of anything for the next few days. I don't remember how I even got home. I just remember wishing to wake up. I remember I kept pinching myself. Yeah this was a nightmare, but one that I couldn't wake up from. It was the worst type of nightmare. It was the nightmare you had to live through.