By Colleen Cronin
Boston Herald
BOSTON — Fallen Boston firefighter Robert “BK” Kilduff Jr. had warned other firefighters to “get back” right before a portion of a Dorchester home collapsed, and he fell three stories.
Kilduff’s last selfless act mimicked his whole life, fellow Rescue 2 firefighter Lt. Greg Kelly said at his friend and colleague’s funeral service Monday.
“He’s leaving such a hole, I can’t explain it to you,” Kelly said.
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Hundreds who filled The Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston listened to person after person talk about the ways that Kilduff helped others, while thousands lined Washington Street outside under what started out as a grey sky.
“He spent so much time helping others, he rarely had time for himself,” Vic Gaybor, who also worked alongside Kilduff at Rescue 2, said.
Gaybor said that he and Kilduff referred to themselves as the dynamic duo, even though often they were more like an old married couple, bickering and pulling pranks on each other.
“I’m expecting BK to pop out of a corner and yell, ‘Gotcha’” he said. Oftentimes, the two had such a great time together on the job, that Gaybor said it wouldn’t feel like work.
But when the alarm rang, Kilduff “was the one I wanted on my side,” Gaybor said, explaining his courage was unmatched.
Kilduff was an amazing firefighter, nicknamed “the natural” early in his career, Gaybor said, but he was also dedicated to helping other firefighters and the community.
Gaybor took a long pause standing in front of the mourners, then a big breath before saying, “I wish I could tell you how much I love you.”
As a member of Rescue 2, Kilduff was in one of two specialized units that perform risky, technical rescues city-wide. Several speakers talked about his heroics on the job, including the night of the Dorchester fire that took his life. Along with pushing back his fellow firefighters, Kilduff’s actions helped save the residents of the building, who all made it out alive.
“Because of Bobby Kilduff, five of our neighbors will get to spend more time with the people they love, just like countless other families in our city whose loved ones, sworn and civilian, he saved,” Boston Mayor Michelle Wu said.
Boston Fire Commissioner Rodney Marshall said that the biggest compliment for a firefighter is to be called, “a good jake,” which Kilduff was.
However, “the jake’s jake was an even better man,” Marshall said, adding that Kilduff “preferred to be known as a great dad, a great partner.”
Kilduff’s children Mason, 22, a Marine, and Hanna Jane, 24, an education student, as well as the firefighter’s longtime girlfriend Jess Spruell all spoke at the funeral.
“If you can’t tell from the fact that I look like him but with hair…” Hanna Jane joked as she got up to introduce herself as Kilduff’s daughter.
She described how for her entire life, her dad worked for the Boston Fire Department, which meant she was used to him saving lives and helping others.
In addition to the job, he also worked tirelessly for the union to improve working conditions for other firefighters, and still found time to volunteer for organizations like the Gary Sinise Foundation.
“Nobody was out of the bounds of his compassion,” Hanna Jane said.
But no matter how busy he was, Kilduff was always there for his family.
“He used to say that the only thing he loved more than being a firefighter was being our dad,” she said.
Hanna Jane told the other mourners that she thought because Kilduff knew how precious life was, and how fragile, he always made time for the people that mattered to him. If there was a lesson Kilduff could have imparted, it would have been to, “never postpone joy,” she said.
When Mason spoke next, he joked that speech wouldn’t be as good as his sister’s. Then he started thanking everyone who was in attendance.
“Even the cops, too,” he said, which made the whole church laugh.
Mason said that he and his dad, who was also a Marine, bonded over being Boston guys. The two would call every day, even when Mason was stationed hundreds of miles away, to talk about the city, sports, “what we’d do to fix the Red Sox,” he said.
While Mason was in bootcamp and couldn’t talk on the phone, he said his dad wrote him letters, about 30, which he still has.
Mason described Kilduff as his best friend. “We did everything together,” he said.
“I think if I could be half as good,” Mason said, “we’d be in good shape.”
Standing with them, Spruell said the good in Kilduff was reflected in Hanna Jane and Mason. “You can see his values in them,” she said.
“BK didn’t love halfway,” Spruell said, also next to her two daughters Seren and Brynn, who Kilduff called “his munchkins.”
Spruell remarked how many were at the funeral to honor him, and said that it “reminds us of just how loved he was.”
“If love could have kept someone here forever, BK would have been here a very long time,” she added.
When the services concluded, and the bells rang for Kilduff for the last time, the mourners processed down the aisle of the Cathedral and out to what turned out to be a sunny afternoon.
Kilduff’s coffin, draped with an American flag, was placed back on Engine 42, which had carried him to the services.
The bagpipes played Amazing Grace. Onlookers placed their hands on their hearts and thousands of first responders gave Kilduff a final salute.
People didn’t show up like that because of someone’s titles or accomplishments, Spruell said inside the church, “they show up because of how someone made them feel.”
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