WILLIAM F. BURKE JR.: Rendered by
the Flame
Calling
Capt. William F. Burke Jr. a firefighter is a little like
referring to Elvis as an entertainer. Captain Burke took
the job description and set it over the high flame of his
personality, rendering something else entirely. "He
always made everything better," said his brother Michael,
"and in Manhattan, it's nice to be around somebody like
that."
Like his father, who worked in the South Bronx in the
1960's when fires raged around the clock, Captain Burke,
known as Billy, believed in putting his men first. On
Sept. 11, he ordered them out of the north tower, his
brother said, while he continued searching for people to
rescue.
In Stuyvesant Town, the Manhattan residential complex
where he had an apartment, Captain Burke, 46, enjoyed a
parade of admirers. Some were romantic interests,
penciled into his address book, drawn by his singular
charm. "The first words out of his mouth every single
time he met a woman were, `Have you lost weight?' " his
brother said. Then there were the neighbors he helped
out. He liked to bicycle to his firehouse, Engine Company
21 on East 40th Street, but if he saw someone struggling
with groceries, he'd screech to a halt.
He spent 25 summers working as a lifeguard at Robert
Moses State Park, and a friend, Stuart Kaplan, remembered
how the oldest living Jones Beach lifeguard turned up one
day. The man was sickly and in a wheelchair, but his
dearest wish was to swim in the ocean one last time.
Captain Burke put an arm around him and helped him into
the waves. Afterward, they shared a cold beer and then
another. Everybody went home happy.
.
