Bill Wright: Fighting fires is in his blood

As a little boy, Bill Wright made sure, no matter where he was or what he was doing, his bicycle was always pointed in the direction of Milton's fire house.

As the alarm echoed through his hometown, off he'd go, pedaling as fast as he could to get there just as the fire trucks blazed their sirens and sped off to the rescue.

“I'm an adrenaline junky at heart,” the 55-year-old said. “I just couldn't wait to become a fireman.”

If Bill wasn't at the firehouse listening to the scanner or playing pool with his father, Ronald William “Bill” Wright Sr., he'd be across the street helping out at his grandfather's gas station.

“My average day was just idolizing my father,” Bill said. “Dad was a great firefighter. He was just a smart man as far as watching him and learning from him. He was always hands-on, and being a lineman for Delaware Electric, he was strong, too.”

In those days, Bill said, his dad and his uncle, Richard “Yogi” Wright, were always running off to calls: Shootings, stabbings, fires at King Cole Cannery. From a young age, Bill would ride along with his father and quickly learned the demands of volunteer firefighting.

“There's the misconception that it's an easy job. It's a very demanding job. It's stressful,” he said.

At 16, the time finally came for him to throw on the heavy gear and jump into the flames. When it comes to fighting fires, though, there is no learning curve, he said.

“You either get it or you don't,” he said. “Fire is not your friend.”

Bill can spout off story after story about burning buildings, devastating accidents and being on the front line. But there's one memory in particular that's still as clear as the day it happened, he said.

Bill was 17 and had been fighting fires for about a year when he arrived at a two-story house that was ablaze in Milton. He and another firefighter, Frank Holding Jr., were on a ladder, shooting water through a second floor window when Bill suggested they move around back for a better angle. They climbed down and relocated. A few minutes later, the whole second floor collapsed.

After the flames were doused and the home sat smoldering, the family asked Bill to find one small, but very important, item: The family Bible.

Bill agreed and entered the burnt-out living room, scanning for a dresser where he was told the book would be. But there was no Bible. Then he looked behind the piece of furniture, and there it was, sitting amongst a pile of scorched rubble, without one scratch.

“We just looked at each other and went, 'Wow, man!'” he said as he rubbed the goosebumps on his arm. “That's probably the most memorable one for me.”

Since then, there have been a handful of close-calls and many tragedies too painful to recall from nearly 40 years of fighting fires and responding as an EMS. A twisted ankle, burns to his face, near-deadly explosions and even falling into a pit of grease and water haven't swayed Bill from making sure he's one of the first on the scene.

“I hate missing the first truck,” he said, noting that his father served in the same fire company for 60 years and Uncle Yogi served for 50 years.

When he wasn't in the midst of flames and chaos, Bill worked on boats at Fisherman's Wharf, where he met his wife of 34 years, Jill. He served four years as a boiler tech in the Navy, started a family and later founded his own business, Wright's Lawn Care, which he runs alongside his wife. 

He's still the first one on the scene of most fires, which is appreciated by his fellow firefighters and community members.

“Freshy is always right on the front lines,” said Lynn Rogers, a former chief with the Milton Fire Department. Rogers gave Bill the nickname “Freshy” decades ago, in part because of Bill's time as a mate on a boat, in part because of his personality.

“The unique thing about Freshy is he had no desire to be anything but a firefighter,” Rogers said. “If someone's life was in danger, he'd put his life on the line to take care of them.”

That dedication led to Bill earning the American Medical Response Star of Life award in the 1990s, followed by Firefighter of the Year for both the Milton Fire Department and the Department of Delaware Veterans of Foreign Wars in 2016.

“I'm pretty proud,” Bill said with a gentle smile.

He's still young, but for Bill, the thought of retiring from fighting fires is even scarier than entering a burning building.

“I guess I'll stop when my body tells me, or when the tennis balls on my walker get worn out,” Bill said as he laughed and lived up to his nickname. “It's in my blood, and I love it.”