The autumn wind carried a solemn silence through Memorial Park as families, friends, and fellow firefighters gathered to honour Manitoba’s heroes who gave everything in the line of duty. The Manitoba Fallen Fire Fighters Memorial is not just stone and steel—it is a testament to lives of courage, lives cut short, and families left to carry the weight of sacrifice.
“The sacrifices we honour extend far beyond the fireground. They are carried by families who gave their strength so loved ones could serve. Missed birthdays, anniversaries, and family dinners. Sleepless nights and memories of calls that never fade,” said Nick Kasper, President of the United Fire Fighters of Winnipeg. His words carried more than ceremony; they carried truth. Firefighting takes a toll not only on those who wear the uniform, but also on those who wait at home, praying for their safe return.
Chris Perry of the Manitoba Professional Firefighters Association put it plainly: firefighting is not simply a job—it is a calling. One that demands bravery in the face of fear, action in the face of danger, and heart in the face of tragedy.
This year, the names of Fire Chief George Chyzy of the Arborg-Bifrost Fire Department and Captain Gordon Pottinger of the Winnipeg Fire Paramedic Service were etched into the wall of remembrance. Their families stood quietly as the roll call of the fallen echoed through the park. It was a beautiful ceremony. Firefighters came from across the province. Provincial leaders spoke with reverence. Yet, both in presence and in words, Winnipeg’s mayor was absent—a silence that spoke volumes.
And here lies the difficult truth: as moving as this ceremony was, it cannot cover up years—decades—of neglect. Winnipeg’s firefighters have long been sounding the alarm, asking for help with resources, equipment, and support. Too often, those pleas have been ignored. We honour them in death, but do not always protect them in life. That imbalance is not only heartbreaking—it is unacceptable.
To truly honour the fallen, we must do more than bow our heads once a year. We must commit ourselves to giving the men and women who protect us the tools they need to do their jobs safely. That means funding, training, and mental health support. It means hearing their calls before tragedy forces us to carve another name into stone.
Because if we are a city where young boys and girls grow up dreaming of becoming firefighters, then we must ensure those dreams are not hollow ones. A firefighter should never have to wonder whether their city stands behind them. Honouring the dead means protecting the living.
When the bagpipes fade and the memorial crowd disperses, what remains is a promise—whether we choose to keep it or break it. If we fail to protect those who protect us, then the memory of the fallen is betrayed. We can do better. We must do better.
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