Derek Kelleher has felt the heat of several burning buildings press against his skin over his three decades as a firefighter. He has pulled people from the flames and sometimes watched lives slip away despite every effort to save them.
One fire he responded to when he was just 20 years old remains seared into Kelleher’s memory.
Knowing he wouldn’t survive, a man trapped in the flames turned to Kelleher with a final plea: “Tell my kids I love them.”
Kelleher never got the chance.
“That’s something that I never had closure for because I never met the kids and never pieced it together,” said Kelleher, now the battalion chief at Concord’s central fire station. “Today, I think I would have found a different way. I would have made those connections to try to make sure that closure happens.”
Every fire leaves a different mark on firefighters. On occasion, the emotional toll comes crashing in right away. Other times, it creeps in years later or never at all.
So far this year, New Hampshire has recorded 12 fire-related deaths. Last year, there were 24 fatalities statewide.
A fire broke out at an apartment building on Manchester Street in Concord on July 15
One of those tragedies unfolded on July 15, when Concord firefighters were called to a blaze at a 10-unit apartment building on Manchester Street. The fire displaced many residents and claimed the life of a 62-year-old woman.
For Kelleher’s crew, it wasn’t just another call. The woman was someone they knew.
Mike Kelley, a firefighter and paramedic who responded alongside Kelleher, said that even though he knew the victim, instinct took over the moment the fire truck parked outside. He shifted into “autopilot” mode.
“Nothing changed,” Kelley said. “It didn’t impact me at that point.”
He jumped out, grabbed his gear and treated the situation as if it were any other call, but the loss was real.
Whether a pet or a person loses their life, firefighters said every life taken by fire is sobering — no matter how many years they’ve been on the job.
“I have compassion for that person and any of that person’s loved ones,” said Kelley.
The kindling that fuels fatal fires
Fatal fires often share a pattern: non-functioning or missing smoke alarms and smoking while using an oxygen apparatus.
Sean Toomey, the state fire marshal, pointed out that while smoke alarms are available for free through the American Red Cross and local fire departments, they are often missing from homes or have dead batteries.
He said that functional smoke alarms are life-saving and can significantly change the outcome of a fire.
“Our fires today are moving faster, and it’s more important to have the alarms present and working so you have every possible opportunity to get yourself out,” said Toomey.
Of the 16 fatal fire incidents in residential buildings, only four had working smoke alarms.
Thirty years ago, people had 15 to 20 minutes to escape a house fire. Today, that window has shrunk to as little as five minutes.
Modern homes now have more furnishings made with synthetic and petroleum-based materials such as plastics, foams and fibers that ignite and burn more quickly and intensely than the natural wood, cotton and wool that once filled living spaces.
More than just fires
Putting out flames and rescuing people and pets aren’t the only responsibilities firefighters carry. Sometimes, they are also the ones who must deliver the worst possible news, the news that a loved one didn’t make it out.
Shawn Brechtel, chief of Penacook Rescue with nearly 20 years of experience as a firefighter and now an EMT, said delivering the news of a death after a fire, when emotions are high and raw, is never easy.
“It’s a horrible experience to tell somebody’s loved one that their loved one passed away,” said Bretchel. “That’s not a fun conversation.”
For many firefighters, rising through the ranks doesn’t just mean taking on more responsibility — it often means carrying the mental burdens others are spared.
Tim Kenney, chief at the Boscawen fire department, has often traded command roles for boots-on-the-ground duty to shield younger crew members from trauma they’re not yet ready to face.
One of those calls came during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, when his team was dispatched to recover the bodies of people who had been missing for five days after a fatal crash.
“It was a very grotesque scene, and I went to protect some other people’s mental ability,” Kenney said. “I put other people in charge, I dressed up and I went with the guys to get the people out of the woods.”
Mental toll
For firefighters, the emotional toll of the job has always been just as real as the physical risks.
But compared to several decades ago, there’s been a noticeable shift in the stigma surrounding mental health today — talking about feelings is no longer seen as a weakness.
Kelley, a member of Concord’s peer support team, said firefighters are now more willing to open up about the impact a fatal fire has on them than in the past, and there’s no “one-size-fits-all” approach to coping with difficult emotions.
For some, taking a break and being with family is what helps. For others, it’s staying busy with calls, and for some, counseling or therapy is the best way to process.
Fire Lt. Jeremy Baldwin at Concord’s Central Station didn’t quite click with traditional talk therapy. What helped instead was the support and connection he found hanging out with his team around the firehouse.
“The dark humor kitchen table talk is the best therapy there is for me,” said Baldwin. “That’s where I found my therapy, because at the kitchen table it’s relating with people who dealt with the same thing, versus talking to somebody I didn’t know.”
Even with their heart rates spiking on the way to a burning building, putting themselves in danger, missing family events and dealing with the emotional toll, many firefighters said the reason they keep getting up each day and putting on their boots is simple: to help people.
Whether it’s rescuing a cat from a tree, changing the batteries in a smoke alarm for someone who can’t reach it or fighting a blazing fire, their work is all about being there for their communities.
“For me, it’s really having the opportunity to make a difference in someone’s day, their life. I think that’s the reason why this is the greatest job,” Kelley said. “There’s also a lot of camaraderie with it, and it really is like a second family. It’s fulfilling.”