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My name is Tom Hillman and I have had the honor and privilege of knowing Faber for over the past 30 years. I wa honored when asked to say a few words this morning about Faber's 30 years of service in Goochland County. To begin, let's go back to around 1978 when a group of young men formed a close friendship and chartered what we called “The Oilville Crew”.

Miles Barrick, David Goode, Faber and myself all lived in the Oilville area and pretty much started our firefighting careers during the same time. We trained together, partied together, laughed and as time went on….sometimes cried together as we grew into men.

Because we lived a good distance from any of Goochland's fire departments, we would often drive directly to the fire scene. Arriving at the scene of a call long before the first truck or ambulance arrived, we would pretty much have our strategy down and was ready to roll when the first units rolled-in. Our trust in each other as firefighters became strong. Our love for each other as brothers became even stronger.

I first got to know Faber when I began working for him part time at Whitney's Country Store while attending college. I had met Faber only a few times at local get-togethers such as dances and parties. I simply had a hard time figuring him out. As I told Faber's sister Rebecca last night, Faber was quite a character. You see, there were two Faber Jeffersons. There was the Faber you saw in recreation mode…..and if you are here this morning you probably need no further explanation. And then there is the business side of Faber…focused and determined, expecting only the best out of those he worked with. Working at the store, I got my butt chewed out by Faber more often than I care to say. Usually I deserved it, after all it was my side-job and Whitney's was his baby. I never did figure him out…gave up trying long ago…but our friendship grew and eventually Faber moved on to bigger and better things, leaving his old job to me.

On the fire scene, we again saw the business side of Faber….always focused and determined. He didn't walk, he ran. He didn't talk, he yelled. God help you if you looked like you weren't doing anything. Faber would find something for you to do. This kind intensity can be dangerous in some firefighters. With Faber this was coupled with a keen second sense that never failed him. I trusted his judgment always, and he was rarely, if ever, wrong. And I know that firsthand.

One of the first really large fires Faber and I fought was a log cabin home which was well involved when we arrived. We were there long before the trucks and determined that one of our first jobs would be to cut a hole in the roof to ventilate the structure. We threw a ladder soon after the trucks arrived and with axes in hand, climbed up and crawled to where we agreed to cut. Immediately Faber said he didn't like the feel of the roof as we chopped, and announced we had to get down immediately. I didn't hesitate…I could tell Faber knew something was wrong. Seconds after we touched the ground, the roof collapsed into the fire. We talked about that night only a few times, near misses like that isn't something to brag about. It just wasn't our time Faber would say. Needless to say, I never questioned his gut feelings on the fire scene.

In talking with David and Miles over the past few days, we all agree that Faber was fearless as a firefighter. In our early days of our firefighting, there were only a few of us able to respond in the daytime. Several times Faber and I left the firehouse with a truck and arrive on scene, by ourselves, to a working house fire. I would run the pump while Faber entered the house by himself, just long enough to knock down the fire and then come back out and wait until more help arrived. We loved that kind of quick “gorilla” style firefighting.

During a large garbage pile fire behind a local house, Faber and I found ourselves face to face with a large propane cylinder sticking out of the debris about 10 feet away. Faber was on the nozzle, as usual, and I was backing him up, and as soon as we saw it he moved us over a few feet behind a small sapling for cover. Suddenly the safety valve popped on the bottle and a huge flame shot up like a blowtorch. I was willing at this point to call it a day to go home, but I didn't want Faber to know so I stuck it out. A little while later Faber finally turned around and I'll never forget what he said…. “Hillman, I think we need to find a bigger tree!”

Faber, much like me, didn't enjoy the rescue side firefighting as much. We both were about equally squeamish around blood. We also both tended to feel for the victims a little too much. But this didn't stop him when the job required it and I remember his helping me on a particular difficult extrication on I-64 one afternoon. A man was trapped in an upside down pick-up between the roof and his steering wheel. He was basically unhurt and told us repeatedly he wanted to stay that way. I ended up in the cab, with the cutting tool unable to see much of what I was doing. Faber guided me through the tedious job of removing the wheel without further hurting the driver. After he was out, I remember how thankful the driver was and how proud we were of the outcome.

Even though, as I have said, Faber was focused and composed on the scene, that doesn't mean we did have our mishaps.

One winter night Faber and I were standing in front of Whitney's Store during a bad ice storm. We had been running around the local area looking for downed trees and lines, re-opening roads with Faber's chain saw. Suddenly a large limb fell from a tree and crossed the wires just across the street from where we were standing, lighting the whole world bright blue and making the most horrible noise. We both turned to run only to somehow step on each others feet and we both ended up on the ground, face to face, hugging and screaming like little girls. Thank goodness there were no witnesses.

On another occasion we were standing next to a tractor trailer with the rear tires on fire, again waiting for a truck to arrive. All four rear tires on the driver's side were burning pretty good and the driver was having a fit that we showed up without a truck. Just as we heard the sirens from Co. 3's truck in the distance, several of the tires on the truck exploded. They didn't blow out mind you, they exploded with a deafening boom. Flaming bits of tire flew by Faber and I…and somehow, for the second time, we got tangled in the retreat and we ended up in the ditch, face to face…you know the rest. This time there was a witness, so we swore the now laughing driver to secrecy.

There are many more pleasant memories, like the time Faber pulled me into a partially burned house to show me his living room furniture that he had taken to the dump the week-end before.

David Goode has a wonderful story about how a German Shepard took a pass on Faber's bare, let's be honest, thin bow legs and attack his fire boot while they stood side by side outside of a fire scene. I guess there just wasn't enough meat on Faber's leg to make them appetizing.

And there are memories that aren't so pleasant. Like the time we said goodbye to a good friend and colleague, an amazing 16 year old firefighter we welcomed for a brief time into our group affectionately called Tank.

And now I must say goodbye once more. During the past few days as I have tried to put my thoughts to paper, I've struggled as I'm sure many of you have to make sense of Faber's passing. So in closing I have to rely on a familiar practice we often do in the fire service. Soon after the fire is put out, while the events are still fresh in our minds, firefighters meet again and share their thoughts about the call. Decisions made and actions taken are gone over and over. It's done not to criticize, or condemn, or to dwell on the "if onlys". But to reflect, learn and hopefully understand, so that in the future we can do better. This morning we who loved and respected Faber meet for not so different reasons.

God bless Faber, his beautiful daughter Braelyn and his loving family. And thank you for letting me share my thoughts.