Longtime Newark fire chief reflects on career

It all started in December, or maybe it was back in 1953.

Regardless of when it started, there now is a street in the village of Newark named after former longtime fire chief Lowell Mathre.

A section of Main Street at Jackson Street in front of the fire barn in Newark is marked as “Honorary Lowell Mathre Drive.”

“It was quite an honor,” Mathre said. “The town was founded in 1835 and it was the first time that I know of in the history of the town that anybody has had a street named after him in all these years. So I kind of feel honored about that.”

The question of why it’s there is something that is easy to answer. Newark resident CJ Fifield has the answer and he says it’s quite simple.

“He really is the face of Newark,” he said.

Fifield says he had the idea to name a street after Mathre, who was chief of the Newark Fire District for more than 50 years.

“I approached the City Council with the idea of honoring him because he is the face of Newark, and the city council was like – ‘The whole street?’” Fifield said. “And I said, ‘No, just in front of the fire barn’ and I even offered to pay for the sign because I just thought it was that important that we honor this man.”

The village hosted a ceremony unveiling the street sign during the WinterFest community celebration Dec. 5.

“He thought that he was getting a parking stall at the fire department named after him and they said ‘No, Lowell, it’s a lot bigger than a parking stall,’” Fifield said. “It was just a magic moment.”

Mathre first became chief of the Newark Fire District in 1958. He was chief for three years and another chief served for two years. He became chief again in 1963 and held the position until 2012.

At 84 years old, Mathre technically still is a firefighter.

“I haven’t retired from the department, I just retired as chief,” Mathre says, adding that he doesn’t go out on calls anymore but sticks around the firehouse doing paperwork or getting the mail.

“They won’t let me up on the ladder anymore,” he said.

Mathre joined the department as a volunteer firefighter in 1953 shortly after he was discharged from the Air Force Reserves in December 1952.

“I was living here in town and they were looking for firefighters at that time, and that’s when I joined,” Mathre said. “I always liked the fire department when I was a kid.”

When he was a child, Mathre recalls the excitement of watching firemen respond to calls and put out fires, though he notes that there were a lot fewer trucks and they were smaller. When the fire district was formed in 1946 they bought their first main pumper, which they still have, Mathre said. The truck has been refurbished and today is mainly used for parades.

“It would still be workable if we needed it,” he said.

Mathre adds that he’s glad he is not just starting out as a firefighter today.

“I’m kind of glad that I don’t have the responsibilities with all the computers and changes,” he said. “You almost have to be a college professor to understand everything.”

Thanks to an understanding wife, Van, a good, dedicated crew and a supportive community, Mathre said he hasn’t had to go through some of the things other area fire chiefs have had to face.

“My wife put up with a lot of things from me and she helped a lot,” he said. “It was exciting.”

‘Some pretty good fires’

Mathre still recalls his first call, which turned out to be a false alarm.

The first night he joined, the fire whistle blew and he ran back into town, about four blocks from the firehouse, and was ready for action.

“I got there and they couldn’t figure out what was going on,” he said. “They had a pop cooler that was sitting in the firehouse there and someone bumped the pop cooler, and there was a relay switch for our siren right there that they jarred it enough to set it off.”

He remembers that it took a while to figure out what was going on. After the alarm went off a few times the firefighters finally figured out that the cooler was responsible for the alarm.

“Any time a guy went back to the pop cooler, if he banged the cooler the siren would go off,” he said.

Over the half century, the calls are all too numerous to remember.

“We had some pretty good fires,” he said.

Mathre recalls responding to a fire at a turkey farm on Route 52 just outside of Lisbon. They lost 14,000 turkeys, he said.

“I don’t know what happened or what caused it but it was pretty much totally involved when we got there,” he said. “We saved the rest of the buildings.”

After he retired as chief in 2012, the Illinois Fire Chiefs Association named him chief emeritus, a title he says that has only been designated to about 30 chiefs over the years.

“That was quite an honor for our small department to get that,” he said. “To be chief emeritus, I feel pretty humble and proud of that.”

Mathre will start his 64th year as a volunteer firefighter next month.

“I don’t go out on the calls. Once in a while I’ll go but not very often, it depends on what it is,” he says. “I laugh about it – I shut the doors if it’s cold and leave them open if it’s warm.”

Mathre says he has been a volunteer so long it’s just automatic for him now, though he admits that the job is not for everyone.

“We’ve had some guys come in and want to be a firefighter, but they go out on the first call or the first bad accident and they can’t handle that,” he said.

However, for Mathre being a firefighter is a family affair. His oldest son, Jeff, is now chief and his other son, Greg, is assistant chief. He also has a grandson who is a captain in the department as well as a grandson who is an assistant chief in Lisbon Fire Department. Another grandson is a firefighter and three granddaughters were on the department.

“I have so many in the family – I laugh that we could out vote them,” Mathre says. “I don’t know how many in the family have been on, I can’t keep up with them all. It’s been great and I was really fortunate to have good trustees and a lot of good help. The community has also backed us whenever they’ve needed anything.”

Fifield first worked with Mathre in the early 1970s when he was a state trooper.

“The fire department is his home,” he said. “When I was a state trooper, God, if there was a wreck out this way I was working with those guys, and for a small department they’re great.”

In 1980 the fire district got a new station and Mathre looked at the district map and reflected on how many accidents had occurred along Route 71 between Route 47 and 52. He says he took a black pen and went down Route 71 and put in a black X for just the accidents he could remember since the road was created in the 1940s. He estimates that he made over 40 marks on that map of fatal accidents.

“One time we talked about putting crosses out but it got to be so many that you would start to think it looked like a cemetery there,” he said.

When asked how many accidents he estimated he has responded to over the years, Mathre draws a blank at first but then one accident jumps to mind.

“We’ve had some real bad ones,” he said. “There have been so many of them.”

Mathre remembered one night when some Caterpillar workers were coming home and they were involved in a crash. The accident happened at a place Mathre refers to as “Skunk Hallow” on Route 71 between Sleepy Hollow and Hollenback Road.

At the time Mathre was working the third shift himself at Caterpillar.

“It was a truck that they hit and it got called in as a truck fire ... both of those guys got killed,” he said. “It was just gruesome. We got down there ... it just makes you quiver when you think about it. It’s not a pleasant sight to see. Sometimes you don’t go to sleep very good when you get home at night.”

Mathre says many of the accidents he has seen were due to carelessness on the part of the driver or slippery weather conditions.

“There have been some that have been bad and they were fortunate to survive,” he said.

What kept him serving?

“Sometimes I wonder,” he said. “Why am I still doing this but somebody has got to do it.”

Mathre says he has had a lot of good help through the years, which made his job easy.

“If I had a chance to I’d do it all over again, I would,” he said.

• Valley Life reporter Doug Oleson contributed to this story.