William A. "Willie" Dunn

In Loving Memory

Willie Dunn was born in Upland, CA on August 19, 1961, one of nine children. He graduated from Ontario High School and attended California State Polytechnic University in Pomona. In 1982, he graduated from paramedic school at Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital.

On June 14, 1982, Willie began his fire service career with the LAFD. In his first assignment at Fire Station 3, he soon discovered that his chosen profession would also become his life-long passion. His attentiveness to the people he treated evolved into the caring for “his” patients.

Willie married Tracy in 1987 and together they raised Dominic, Nika and Alexander. Not long after, e also became involved with the Los Angeles Firemen’s Relief Association where he contributed many hours to benefit his fellow firefighters and their families.

Willie garnered the respect and love of all who had the privilege to meet him. His caring ways were is badge of honor. The manner in which he treated “his” patients and the humor he shared with his fire family somehow made all the tough tasks seem easier.

My Partner, My Friend, My Brother

Today we are gathered here to celebrate the life of William A Dunn.  It seems very fitting to me because Willie celebrated life everyday that he lived.  Willie not only touched my life, both professionally and personally, but he touched so many lives, as you can see from the outpouring of overwhelming love and support sitting and standing here today.

THE SMILE - what else can be said.  If you knew Willie, you knew that smile.  The smile and laugh that would brighten up any room or any situation at any given moment.  So many people have said to me that they miss the smile and upbeat attitude that were his trademarks at all hours of the day.

Willie was so many things to me: partner, friend, voice of reason, counselor.  He was the person who taught me the word compassion.  With his words as well as his actions he taught me to be more caring for all human beings. And he did this by setting an example for us all - at ANY TIME of the day or night.  He also taught me to be a good listener, to keep my mouth shut long enough to listen to other people.  So in the future, if any of you tell me to shut up and listen, I won’t be offended. Because it will just be another reminder of my old pal Willie.

The word HONOR comes to mind when I sit and think of my friend.  I think we can all HONOR Willie and his memory by honoring GOD, honoring our FAMILIES, honoring our FRIENDS, honoring the DEPARTMENT, and lastly, honoring OURSELVES. That is way that Willie lived and that is the way he will continue to live in our hearts.

Willie is in heaven now and we are here celebrating his life. We won’t ever forget Willie, how could we? He just wanted to make everyone happy, and I think he came pretty close to doing that with everyone he met. So let’s all think back and remember how Willie touched every one of our lives in so many positive ways.

And when we think back to recall something about our friend Willie, let’s not remember the way he died, but from now on, let’s remember the way he lived.

Willie and The Unit

I first met Willie when we both worked on rescues in West L.A. Those were difficult times – long shifts, minimal sleep – but when working with Willie the time went by fast. He made it fun, and when I would find out that I was working with him I’d tell him, “You just made my day.”

Several years later I got a call from Willie. “Al,” he said, “I see there’s a vacancy at the Unit, as he would come to call Air Ops, and I’m thinking of putting in for it.” I told him about the training requirements and the rotational schedule on Rescue 90. It all sounded good to him . . . until I mentioned Swift Water Rescue and Water Survival – Dunker Training. “Aaaahhhhh,” he exclaimed, “I don’t do water!”

Willie finally did transfer to the Unit and he did complete all the training – yes, even the dunker training. That is, after members offered him their assistance in getting lifeguards, scuba divers and even water wings.

Our partnership was easy. I provided the treatment and transport . . . he provided the warmth, support and communications. You know – the touchy, feely part. Upon delivering patients to the hospital, I’d see the faces of doctors, nurses and staff light up when he entered the ER. Even in that busy environment he always got warm greetings, because how could you be curt in the face of that infectious smile and laughter. Our wait time at the hospital was always shorter when I worked with Willie.

On calls he treated everyone the same. It didn’t matter if you were rich, poor, young, old, male, female or anything in between – he treated everyone with respect. He called female patients “Sugar Pie, Hunny Bunn, Sweetie Pie, Baby Cakes or Schoocums,” and male patients “Big Daddy, Baby Daddy, or if he really liked someone, Baby Bubba.” He had a special talent for being able to transcend political correctness. Many patients felt a special connection with Willie. Our repeat customers would be disappointed if Willie didn’t show up.

Our time spent driving – in between calls or even responding to calls – gave us the opportunity to joke about the antics and shenanigans of the other members of the Unit or the station. No one was exempt, everyone was fair game. But we always stopped short of rumors. It had to be firsthand accounts or info from a reliable source. But of course we never let facts get in the way of making it a funny story. At times we would laugh so hard he would scream, “Oh stop! Stop it! You’re killing me!”

At the station Willie was easy to find. His laughter would echo throughout the station regardless of where he was. On occasions when kids would be visiting their fathers at the firehouse, they would grab dad’s arm when they heard the loud laughter and they would ask, “Daddy, what’s that?” “Oh, it’s Okay,” Dad would say, “That’s just Willie.”

Willie always said that he transferred to the Unit because he wanted to be part of something. Whether he meant special, different, unique – I can’t really say. But he definitely became a part. We all enjoyed his company, laughter, smile, passion, commitment, determination, courage and spirit. Willie will be missed . . . but not forgotten.