In honor of our fallen 19 firefighters

My grandfather was a firefighter. My father was a firefighter. I can still picture them in their formal picture, the volunteer firefighters of a small Wisconsin town.

Tonight, it's another group of firefighters in a portrait. The Granite Mountain Hotshots. A much younger group in a less formal picture. They saw a lot more action than my dad and his dad. During fire season in Arizona, they were on the front lines for weeks at a time.

But I'm sure their wives and mothers felt the same way my grandmother did every time that siren went off. She would put on the scanner. We would run down to the station to listen to someone at the radio desk. Hopefully, it was someone burning off weeds that had let their fire get a little too large, rather than someone's home. But worry crossed her face, worry only relieved when they returned home.

Tonight, my husband and I went to a concert. My heart dropped when I saw the news on Facebook: 19 firefighters unaccounted for in Yarnell. Then, moments later, 19 firefighters dead. The news traveled quickly through our section. Then the man next to me got a message and left his seat. When he returned, he had tragic news of his own -- his sister's home was one of 250 structures lost in Yarnell.

Through 15 years on the newspaper staff, fire both frightened me and fascinated me. I had friends on the various fire departments. A big fire was a solid news story. I would listen on the scanner and try to be on scene before the fire departments knocked the flames down. Many times I would return to the office or my house smelling of fire.

My husband never worried. I wasn't in any danger. But we knew plenty of folks who lived it, every time that alarm sounded. With the job came a certain amount of worry for their families.

Tonight 19 families received word that their firefighter isn't coming home. The wind shifted and blew the fire back on top of them, and none of them survived. Other firefighters will come, and soon they will contain it. Condolences are already arriving from the governor, even the president. And as Prescott celebrates its World's Oldest Rodeo and Fourth of July, a sadness will overlay this week.

It will take a long time for Yarnell to recover. The memories of this Hotshot team's tragic end are burned into our community for life.