01/05/2026
January 5, 2026
It’s been thirty-one years since the night Greg, Randy, Walt and Jim were taken from us in a senseless and selfish act, an act which they met with unquestioning courage and sacrifice. That night tore a hole through families, communities and firehouses, a gap that is still felt today for some as keenly as the night it happened.
As we pause to remember the passing of another year since that horrible night, I can’t help but wonder what effect time has on how we view what happened. The ranks of those who knew these four have grown noticeably thinner with the passage of time. How will they and the events of that night be remembered as the years continue to pass? What responsibility do we have to sustain that memory and how do we meet that rather sacred obligation?
As always, I feel we must start with those who have paid the greatest price; the families and friends of these four who gave so much. For many of us this is a single day of the year, a moment in time, but there are those who still pass pictures in the hallway every day and remember the smile, touch or laughter now absent. I think one way for us to honor their sacrifice is in how we show up for those we love every day. That tragic night in January should remind us how temporary this all is and that we should work to bring gratitude into our daily interactions with those around us. I recall my own experience on that night, leaving home to head into the city. My two daughters asleep and their mother asking why I had to go; “Why you?” she asked– At the time a seemingly absurd question. Only now do I recognize the depth of dread and uncertainty that must have accompanied it when four souls were already missing. It’s important to honor that daily sacrifice, that uncertainty, those who love us feel whenever we head into the firehouse.
Something I feel is easily overlooked, mostly as a product of the quiet humility of those who were there, is the resolve and commitment of all those others who were present that night, those who tried to bring order to chaos and implemented genuinely heroic efforts to pe*****te the building to rescue those still inside. Those last living acts of those who saved members of their crew. We can all only hope to rise to such a level of instinctive selfless commitment should it ever be necessary. We should honor that legacy in our daily efforts to prepare for what is foreseeable and help each other be better every day. Details matter. Do the little things well so in that moment of crisis we can persevere and prevail. We owe it to those around us and those we leave at home.
The events that night have become a crystalizing moment for us as a community – or “tribe” if you will. It’s impact manifesting in some very real and tactile ways; It was the catalyst for the very memorial that bears the names of all those who died in its service, each name with their own stories and families. That monument creates a physical anchor, a sacred space in the heart of our community that raises our awareness of all the past individual sacrifices as well as the four we honor today. The vacuum felt in the days after the tragedy also gave rise to what are now cultural cornerstones of our “tribal” community; the Honor Guard that bears Walt’s name, the Seattle Firefighters Pipes and Drums as well as our own Seattle’s Bravest Charity. All intended to provide comfort and a sense of belonging to those who might feel adrift or unmoored in the wake of any future tragedy. We must sustain these and other means of creating community and connection, so they are there for us when we need them.
The sacrifices of Walt, Randy, Greg and Jim helped give voice to our story and carve out a corner of the city for it to be told.
Our story is what connects us, defines us.
We must never allow comfort or complacency to cause us to abdicate our role in its curation. We are responsible for how it evolves, to ensure it is told truthfully and do the work to live the lessons it has taught us. We must burnish the memory without romanticizing it, remember the courage and unwavering commitment on display that night as well as the flaws and mistakes so that we might learn from all of it.
So, as we pause in this moment when we can see a time when those who are charged with the stewardship of the story will not have the benefit of a personal connection to these events, my hope is that you continue to be true to it, diligent in maintaining it and that you never have to experience your own chapter to retell it.
Frank Brennan
Director
Seattle's Bravest Charity
