Larger than life. 

Charismatic. 

Family man. 

Proud. 

A firefighter who lived by high standards and expected the same from colleagues.

Those were just some of words used to describe John Morrison as his counterparts sat around the table at Coeur d’Alene Fire Department’s Station 3 by Cherry Hill on Thursday.

Laughter, smiles, grimaces and tears marked the conversation as they reflected on the battalion chief in charge of Blue Shift who was shot and killed in an ambush attack Sunday while responding to a fire at Canfield Mountain. 

At one end of the table, there was an empty chair, with a coffee cup and box of cookies on the table in front of it.  

That’s where Morrison would often sit. 

“That’s what’s gone. This time right here,” said Capt. Nate Hyder. 

The large, rectangular table was where the firefighters often gathered. 

“This is where we solved the problem of the department, the city. The world,” Capt. Matt Tosi said. 

The 52-year-old Morrison was with the Coeur d’Alene Fire Department for 28 years. He was a big man, about 6 feet, 4 inches tall, who exuded a calm confidence that put those around him at ease in any situation.

He was a commanding presence, respected, and loved by the men around the table.  

Firefighter Matt McCormick said he trusted Morrison. 

“He had our back,” McCormick said. 

“You knew he was going to be throwing the right solutions at the problems,” said Capt. Matt Sowa, who chuckled as he recalled political debates with Morrison.  

“Good luck keeping up with him,” Sowa said.  

Hyder echoed that statement. 

“He’d argue a losing side and he would argue until he won,” Hyder said. 

While Morrison's professionalism was of the highest standards, his sense of humor and zeal for fun stood out. 

Stories of him racing adult-sized big wheels down Sherman Avenue, placing wagers on almost anything, kicking field goals, injuring himself while performing a pirouette and running a 40-yard dash filled the room. 

“He had a few unathletic injuries,” said engineer Matt Church, laughing. 

Hyder said his last memory of Morrison was sitting at the table of Station 3 and talking about going camping in September. 

“He was looking forward to it,” Hyder said. 

Morrison looked out for his fellow firefighters. He supported them professionally and personally. Family came first, something he preached and lived by. 

“John was a good human being, not just a chief,” said Coeur d’Alene firefighter/paramedic Erik Loney.

In a small department like theirs, firefighters lived together for days, shared life’s challenges and came to know each other’s families. Morrison paid attention to the details and made people feel appreciated and loved. It was clear he cared.

“He could make you feel like the most important person in the world,” Hyder said. 

The men said Station 3 would never be the same without Morrison, but his spirit would always live there.

“He’s going to burn in my mind until the day that I die,” Sowa said. 

    A coffee cup sits in front of the empty chair where John Morrison often sat at Station 3.
  

  

    Morrison