A 'hard-working, helluva guy'
Veteran loved job, colleagues recall
He even looked like a firefighter -- his hair short and graying, his teeth uneven, his physique thick and muscled but also boyish. And when he spoke in an accent that was pure Boston, his enthusiasm for the job was infectious.
This was Lieutenant Kevin M. Kelley, 30 years a Boston firefighter, the last 20 of them spent at the Huntington Avenue firehouse in Mission Hill, the busiest in town. It was in this firehouse, and puttering around his own house in Quincy, where Kelley, the son of a Boston firefighter, was most in his element.
Kelley was sitting in the passenger seat supervising Ladder 26 as he always did yesterday when the massive truck barreled through an intersection and slammed into a building in Mission Hill. Kelley died instantly, his body freed and moved from the scene two hours later.
Many family members, friends, and colleagues said they were too devastated by his death to speak publicly about the 52-year-old Kelley yesterday, but those who did described a dedicated firefighter and father of three grown daughters who enjoyed yard work and bringing young firefighters along. He wasn't beyond playing jokes on them.
Oscar Francisco, a firefighter at Ladder 28, said he would push a button on the firetruck and it would make a beeping sound that would confuse the younger firefighters. "He did it to me once," Francisco said with a grin. "He was close to retirement, nice guy, hard-working, helluva guy. We're going to miss him."
Fire Department spokesman Steve MacDonald said that when he started as a firefighter 23 years ago, Kelley tied MacDonald's shoelaces into dozens of tiny little knots. "I had to take a knife and cut them out," MacDonald said. "He really loved being a firefighter."
The firehouse antics were captured in the Discovery Channel's "Firehouse USA," a 2005 series about firefighters. In the first few minutes of the first episode, Kelley is shown on the firehouse balcony looking out at the city skyline, his hair blowing in the breeze.
"I came here in 1989," he says. "I came as a lieutenant on the engine. A couple of years later, I went across the floor to the truck. It's a good house. It's busy. There's a lot of young guys here. And being busy, the guys want to work."
In that same episode, the show's narrator pointed out that Kelley worked at the busiest firehouse in the city - and some firefighters on the show credited Kelley with creating that busyness. The guys who worked for him dubbed him "Second Incident" and "Kevin Two-times" because he could always finish two runs in the time it would take other fire companies to finish one.
"That's our dirty little secret at this firehouse," Firefighter Frederick Adams told the filming crew that profiled the firehouse. "The reason why we're the busiest firehouse in the city is that we have 'Kevin Two-times.' "
Kelley starred in multiple episodes of "Firehouse USA," often dressed in full firefighter regalia and seated in the front passenger seat of the ladder truck. In one episode, he paints the bench in front of the fire station red. While many firefighters complain about how exhausting the busy pace at the station can be, Kelley's energy never appears to flag.
"The job has become more technical, less fires," he said. "It's still a good job." He expressed aggravation at the number of false alarms his station responded to day and night, but also a level of resignation.
"As far as I'm concerned we don't have any false alarms," Kelley said. "Every time we go out the door, we go out for a reason, and you might think its nothing - 'oh, they went out and they didn't do anything' - but, yeah, we did. A false alarm kind of sounds like we're wasting our time, and I don't do it. I don't have false alarms."
Fellow Ladder 26 Firefighter Glen Campbell described Kelley as "tough" when you first met him. "Kevin is a little shy when he doesn't know you, and he tends to push you away and maybe give you a hard time," he said on the show. "But once you get to know him, he's a great guy."
Some colleagues said yesterday that Kelley had a hard-charging fearlessness that inspired all those who worked under him. MacDonald said his seniority allowed him to go to any firehouse in the city, but he chose to remain at the busiest one, working on the busiest ladder truck. "He's seasoned, he's been battle-tested," he said.
Kelley lived with his wife in a white, two-story home with a pool on West Elm Street in the Wollaston section of Quincy, right near the beach. A visibly somber group of firefighters and police gathered in front of the home and on the front porch last night. They declined to be interviewed and said the family also was unable to comment.
One of Kelley's neighbors said Kelley moved to Quincy 10 to 12 years ago from Dorchester and that he has three adult daughters who now live on their own. John Keaney said Kelley sometimes went on cruises with his wife, but mostly enjoyed puttering around his yard.
"He shoveled my walk for me just a few days ago," Keaney said. "He was a great guy."
Another neighbor, Neil McCole, also described Kelley as a fixture of the neighborhood and "a regular family guy."
"It's just kind of a shock," McCole said, shaking his head. "We're going to miss him."
Maria Cramer of the Globe staff contributed to this report. Donovan Slack can be reached at dslack@globe.com. 