The mood was somber Sunday at the annual Minnesota Fallen Firefighter Memorial Service at the State Capitol. But one sweet moment stood out.
As children gathered around cages holding several snow white doves, a handler let them pet one of the birds, delighting a little girl tickled by its tail feathers.
Otherwise, the mood was somber at the ceremony, held beside the Fallen Firefighters Memorial in St. Paul, to honor firefighters who died in the line of duty. Since 1881, some 250 have lost their lives protecting their fellow Minnesotans.
"We have to remember these people who sacrificed," Gary Schroeder, deputy state fire marshal inspector, said. "We'll never forget."
Among the five heroes lauded this year, grief was freshest for Burnsville firefighter and paramedic Adam Finseth, who was fatally shot on Feb. 18 as he responded to a domestic violence call. His name was newly engraved in the memorial alongside those of four other firefighters — two from recent years and two from the early 1900s — whose deaths were classified as occurring in the line of duty.
The deaths by suicide of St. Paul firefighter Thomas McDonough Jr. in 2020 and Kayla Giefer, a member of the Courtland Fire Department, in 2023 were attributed to post-traumatic stress related to their jobs.
Hundreds of people paid their respects at Sunday's service beside a weathered steel pavilion surrounding a statue of a firefighter carrying a child. The memorial's ceiling is held up by slender columns representing the years in which Minnesota firefighters have died in the line of duty. Its rusty patina is intended to evoke the oxidation of fire.
Firefighters wore dark uniforms and had placed black bands across their badges. Two massive American flags hung between the extended ladders of fire trucks and flapped in the breeze. A few Dalmatians whimpered. Then the Minnesota Boychoir sang the national anthem.
Albertville Fire Chief Eric Bullen, who serves as president of the Minnesota State Fire Chiefs Association, reminded the crowd why the day had been dedicated to remembering the fallen, with all the trappings of dress uniforms, flags, bagpipes and bugles.
"The men and women whose names appear in the steel behind me are not simply coworkers in a common field, and they certainly didn't die of routine causes," Bullen said. "Each one took an oath to place their life on the line for your benefit, the benefit of the communities they serve, and the benefit of the partners who counted on them.
"And each one paid the ultimate price for their commitment to run towards what most people want run away from."
Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan addressed the crowd to express gratitude for all first responders' daily work — and for their support networks.
"Long after the funerals, and after that last plate of lasagna is brought over, we must take up the cause to never take for granted the sacrifice that is borne by the families and loved ones," she said.
Several of those family members then were presented with memorial flags on behalf of the five honored firefighters.
Finseth, a 40-year-old Army veteran, husband, and father, was recognized as an even-keeled natural leader whose warmth and concern lifted others. The firefighter and medic died when his SWAT team was engaged in a standoff with a man who shot Finseth as he rendered aid.
The names of two deputy state fire marshals killed in the line of duty — Lloyd Conley Sr. in 1921 and Arthur Clark, Sr. in 1913 — had been lost to history. They were discovered by Schroeder, the deputy state fire marshal inspector, who tracked down their descendants to share what he'd found.
A tradition that long predates Conley and Clark is the tolling of the bell to signify a firefighter's end of duty. And that signal — five rings, repeated four times — marked the end of Sunday's service.
As the clangs faded, the doves were released. The hum and wail of bagpipers' "Amazing Grace" filled the air as the birds took flight, circled, then headed for home.