CINCINNATI — Long before the funeral Mass began Wednesday morning, firefighters filled the sidewalks outside St. Peter in Chains Cathedral.
Some embraced. Others shared quiet conversations. Many had not seen one another in years.
Yet the greetings came naturally.
"Hey, brother."
"Hey, sister."
For Cincinnati firefighters, those words carry a meaning deeper than workplace camaraderie. On Wednesday, they echoed through downtown as hundreds gathered to honor Firefighter Ryan Zwick, a 12-year veteran of the Cincinnati Fire Department who died at age 43 after a battle with occupational cancer.
"It's a tough day," said Matt Alter, a Corryville firefighter and former president of Cincinnati Fire Fighters Union Local 48.
WATCH: Cincinnati firefighters unite to remember Ryan Zwick
The gathering marked more than the loss of a colleague. For many in attendance, it was a painful reminder of a growing danger facing firefighters nationwide — one that often emerges years after the flames are extinguished.
"It's a plague amongst firefighters right now," Alter said. "It's a very serious thing that's going through the fire service, happening at a younger and younger age. The effects of being exposed to the unknowns every single day, we're unfortunately seeing play out."
Assigned to Truck 35 in Westwood, Zwick spent more than a decade answering emergency calls across the city. His death has been recognized as a line-of-duty death.
The firefighters' union said he served Cincinnati with "honor and distinction" throughout his career and earned the respect of fellow firefighters and the community he served.
Cancer has become one of the leading causes of line-of-duty deaths among firefighters, linked to repeated exposure to smoke, toxic chemicals and carcinogens encountered during emergency responses.
For Alter, the danger is one every firefighter understands.
"It doesn't stop us from doing our jobs," he said. "We know this. Every single member knows that this is, unfortunately, not an if — it's a when. And it's not going to stop us from doing our job day in and day out."
The funeral also underscored the deep bonds formed inside Cincinnati's firehouses.
"This is what we do. This is the fire department," Alter said. "When you get on the fire department, people say it's a family. This is why."
As firefighters streamed into the cathedral, many reflected on years spent living and working alongside one another.
"These aren't just words," Alter said of the greetings exchanged among firefighters. "This is truly how we are. We live together. That's why we call them firehouses."
That sense of family extends beyond emergency calls and shift work.
"We're there before members get married, when they have kids, and unfortunately, when they take their last breath," Alter said.
He said members of his own firehouse helped support Zwick's family in the final stages of his illness, providing meals and assistance as his condition worsened.
"We were there to help with his family and provide meals and stuff up until the very last day," Alter said.
Although Alter and Zwick worked in different parts of the city, he said he remembers him as someone who left an impression.
"There was always a little bit of that trucker bond," Alter said, referring to firefighters assigned to truck companies. "Teddy Roosevelt said, 'Speak quietly and carry a big stick.' He always had kind of a grin on his face. You knew there was something going on behind there."
Standing just steps from Cincinnati City Hall when he spoke with us, Alter said he hopes elected leaders recognize the importance of expanded cancer screenings, early detection programs and protections for firefighters diagnosed with job-related illnesses.
"My hope is that the decision-makers at City Hall can look out the window and understand that when we're fighting for things like cancer screenings, when we're fighting for things like presumptive cancer coverage, there's a very real need for these things," he said.
The union has advocated for measures aimed at helping firefighters detect cancer earlier and access treatment more quickly. For veteran firefighters, funerals tied to occupational illnesses have become heartbreakingly familiar.
Asked how many similar services he has attended, Alter paused.
"I couldn't even give you a number," he said.
Still, as bagpipes played and firefighters lined the cathedral steps, the focus remained on celebrating Zwick's life and service. For those gathered Wednesday, that impact was evident in the sea of uniforms filling the cathedral and the crowd that lingered afterward.
The loss of Ryan Zwick brought Cincinnati firefighters together in grief. But it also reaffirmed the bond that has long defined the profession — a promise that no firefighter faces life's challenges alone.
Not in the firehouse.
Not during illness.
And not on the final call.
