I met Eric Gustafson (or ‘Gustaf’ as he said the firemen called him) about six months ago, and I liked him right away. We clicked and we talked a lot about many things. I am not going to pretend that I was extremely close to him, that we were best friends, or that I knew him better than some people, because I did not. There are many who knew him much better than I did and who were much closer to him than I was. But I knew three things about him upon meeting him: he loved his family, his fellow firefighters and his faith.

I attended a funeral the other day for a lady during which the pastor said to the children and grandchildren, that they were about to begin the year of firsts. And so Gustaf’s family starts their year of firsts – their first holidays without him, their first new year, their first birthdays, his first birthday, the first Father’s Day, the first Mother’s Day.

I also believe that God will take care of grieving parents and his daughter. Because there is no greater love than that between a parent and child and there is no greater loss than that of a child. I know that Eric loved his daughter very much. It was the love of his daughter that brought him to Meridian from New Orleans. The distance between them hurt him and he wanted to be near her. I have no doubt that his love for his daughter continues today and will continue forever. I have no doubt that the love he had for his parents and their love for him continues. Love is the only thing that we take with us when we pass. Love lasts forever.

It doesn’t matter much what is said by the people at the memorials and funerals, because nothing that we can say will diminish the sense of loss and pain that you feel. I understand that. I hope that you will know that God did not let him suffer.

What happened was an accident with many contributing factors that came together at just the right (or wrong) time for it to happen. I told someone the other day that it had better not be because our roads are so bad in this county and that we need to rebuild our infrastructure. My friend at the power company said, yes, we do need to rebuild our infrastructure, but not because we think someone else is going to die – but because it is the right thing to do. Yes, that’s right. It is the right thing to do.

My mom’s boss always asks his employees, “Well, what is the right thing to do?” I know what the right thing to do is and so do you. We all know what the right thing to do is, but not all of us will do it. Gustaf never had to ask what the right thing to do was. He just knew what the right thing to do was – and he did it. He was one who walked the walk. He did the right things.

I could have called on him for anything day or night and said that I needed this or that, or there was an emergency, and he would have come; not only because that was his profession or because he was my friend, but also because that was the kind of person that he was. He would have even done it on his off time. He would have done it for any one of us. His chosen profession was a calling for him really.

Gustaf was self sacrificing to the end. He sacrificed his life for a town where he did not even grow up to help make it a better place for his daughter to grow up. As citizens of this town, those of us especially who were born here, it is the least that we can do to make sure that we do just as much if not more to ensure that happens.

We gathered at his memorial to remember and to honor a good, decent man. And we should because he is honorable. He deserves to be honored, not only today, but every single day from here on out. It is our duty to honor them and to sacrifice as they sacrifice for us. It is our duty to make sure that this life is not forgotten, that he is not forgotten, that his sacrifices are not forgotten, that his death is not in vain.

It is our duty to do honor him. Because when Eric Gustafson’s duty called, he did not hesitate to do what was right. He was there. He died a hero. Let us never forget that, and do our best to live up to his shining example of what a hero truly is.