(Photo from Channel 12 News.)
Yesterday, spouse B, daughter T, and I attended the memorial service for our neighbor, Doug Rose.
Doug had lived a life of service, including being a police officer, but was known to most in our town for his fifty years of service with our volunteer fire department. He began volunteering at age 16, eventually becoming chief and training dozens of firefighters. The colon cancer that took his life was considered in the line of service, bringing to mind that firefighting is a hazardous endeavor with a lot of toxic exposure. Even during his illness when he could no longer go out on calls, Doug continued working for the department, doing planning, advising, and reports.
The fire department stood by Doug and his family, keeping vigil in his final days and helping with the memorials. Uniformed members of the department filled a third of the church at the memorial service, with emergency vehicles ready to be part of the cortege.
The most touching part of the service was when Doug’s daughter shared memories and stories of her dad. There were touches of humor, which were welcome at such a sad time. It was also a reminder of how we knew Doug and his family as neighbors. His children were a bit younger than ours but still close enough to play together and then be in school together. The whole family was service-oriented. Doug’s wife was a nurse until her retirement. His daughter now teaches at the same neighborhood elementary school that she, her brother, and our daughters attended. His son began volunteering with the fire department at 16, as Doug had, and now works as a dispatcher. Our neighborhood and town are safer and more cared-for because of Doug and his family.
A number of the stories shared involved Doug’s size. I remember the first time we met that he had to duck a bit to enter our house, his 7’2″ (220 cm) frame putting his head perilously close to the ceiling. B remembers seeing him directing traffic when he was a police officer, towering over the roof of his squad car. T recalls that, even though he was so big, she wasn’t afraid of him when she was a child. He was a dad looking out for the kids; she didn’t know that he was also well-known for his ability to break up bar fights.
Doug’s family was very important to him. He became a grandfather but his grandson, who was born early, only lived a few days. Because my faith tradition believes that we are reunited with our loved ones after death, I am imagining Doug now cradling his grandson and telling him stories about his family still on earth. As we were reminded by the reading of 1 Cor 13 at the memorial service, “Love never ends.”
Rest in peace, Doug.
Joanne Corey 