He became town fire chief a year before 9/11. Coincidentally, he's retiring just days before attack's 20th anniversary.

Jim Riccioli
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Waukesha Village Fire Chief Daniel Buchholtz stands alongside the $750,000 ladder truck the then-town acquired several years ago to enhance its fire protection services. Buccholtz will retire from his full-time post Sept. 1, ending his 20-year tenure as chief and 47 years with the department.

WAUKESHA - When he turned 18, Dan Buchholtz figured it was time to formally take on a firefighting responsibility that pretty much had been part of his life for four years already.

There were a few things he hadn't envisioned, of course. That he would become chief of his department 26 years later. That he would serve side by side with his brother, Stu, 60, an assistant chief. And that would retire simultaneously with his brother 47 years later.

Oh, and that he would be prompted to heavily reflect on one of the nation's most shocking moments, one that every firefighter and rescue worker couldn't help but solemnly reflect on: the 9/11 attacks in 2001 during his first full year as the then-town of Waukesha's fire chief.

Buchholtz's retirement on Sept. 1 comes just days before the tragic anniversary of the terroristic attacks that changed America, but, more pointedly for firefighters, changed the idea of just how terrible an emergency response scene could be.

It's a moment worth pondering, at least.

9/11 then and now

While it wasn't the foremost thought on his mind as his retirement approached, he acknowledged the surprise attacks in New York and Washington unsettled him early in his tenure as chief.

"My initial reaction was that it was frightening; there was a little bit of fear," said Buchholtz, 66, who recalled that he was seated in his office when the town chairman alerted him about the news that was filling the airwaves at about 9 a.m. local time. "That could have happened anymore. That could happen in Chicago, it could happen in St. Paul/Minneapolis, which puts it a lot closer to home."

His next reaction was empathy, a sense of trying to put himself in the place of the New York firefighters and EMTs who descended on the World Trade Center twin towers even as the second of two planes struck the iconic buildings.

"As a firefighter, I could easily put myself in the footsteps of one of those personnel. As the chief, I was like, 'This has got to be so overwhelming.' At one point would you say, 'We need to stop and not send in any more people.' That's one of the toughest things. ... I don't know any chief who could make that decision.

"But, obviously, at some point, those folks had to do that," he added.

Many emergency crews lost their lives as the buildings collapsed while they were trying to rescue people from inside. Many more died in the massive debris cloud that resulted from the collapse. Such images are hard to forget.

"To see what those folks went through, (knowing) our department wouldn't be any different if that happened in here in Milwaukee or Chicago," Buchholtz said. "Our folks are going to run in, and the same results would have happened. So that's frightening."

As details unfolded in the aftermath, the village's fire chief realized the tragedy was essentially something that could not have been prevented. Still, he said the incidents woke America from its complacency and forced it "to pay attention to what's happening" in global terrorism.

The scope of the response still amazes him. Even today, Buchholtz admits the idea of fighting fires in places such as New York City — let alone responding to terrorist attacks involving skyscrapers — is beyond his training and knowledge.

"I really don't have any concept of how they deal with those kinds of structures," he said. "And you go to the big cities, and they have them all over the place."

At least he had someone close to share in the shock during that time.

Dan's youngest brother, Stu Buchholtz, who is also retiring as assistant chief on Sept. 1 after 42 years with the department, felt the same tinges of empathy 20 years ago.

For Stu, reflecting on 9/11 after the events unfolded and in the years since was something he, like other firefighters, couldn't avoid, given their roles in emergencies.

"After it all happened, I would say, yes, you think about it more," he acknowledged. "You could think about that it could happen here, with all the people in the world with demented minds nowadays."

It's a risk that isn't strictly confined to 9/11 either. Firefighters never know what they will find as the causes behind horrific fires, something he's considered over the years.

A changing town

Beside 9/11, other aspects of the Buchholtz brothers' profession are worth reflecting on.

By the time the town became a village in 2020, Dan Buchholtz had long been part of the evolution of a fire department from a purely volunteer outfit to a paid-on-call crew led by two administrators, including the full-time chief.

Today, about 8,500 residents call the village home, nearly double the population in 1974. when Buchholtz joined the department. A five-story building occupied by AT&T on Saylesville Road stands as the tallest of the industrial and commercial structures in a mostly residential community.

The monument sign marking the village of Waukesha's main municipal building is new, but the facility itself still wears its old town hall signs in 2021. The town, which became a village in 2020, has grown greatly in retiring Fire Chief Dan Buchholtz's 47 years with the fire department.

The Buchholtz family has been all about firefighting for more than half a century, starting with his father, who passed the passion and dedication on to four sons.

"My dad was in the department, and he started in the '60s," Buchholtz said. "He dragged us down whenever he could. We were around here a lot."

In addition to Stu and Dan, Phil, the oldest, was the first brother to serve on the town fire department, beginning in 1972, followed by Todd in 1976. Stu was the last to join in 1979. (Phil was later hired as a paid firefighter, advancing to battalion chief, in the city of Waukesha before becoming chief of the North Prairie Fire Department in 2016.) 

Even his mother served the town's department, as a dispatcher, beginning in 1974, shortly before Dan joined his brothers in May.

"It's kind of a family affair," Buchholtz said.

One thing was for certain. The family wasn't in it for the money.

"Back then, when I started, it was completely volunteer," he said. "There was no compensation or anything."

Small stipends eventually followed, amounting to about $100 annually for every firefighter who responded to a minimum threshold of calls. In 2000, the paid-on-call format began in which members were paid hourly for the time they spent on calls, a response to the growing population on the increasing call volume. The department needed a full-time chief to cover the administrative needs. Dan Buchholtz stepped into that role.

The department now handles about 600 calls a year, nearly triple the level in 2000. Buildings are getting taller — a commercial development along Highway 164 at Lawnsdale Avenue that is expected to include a private school will likely be a multi-story design — which adds to firefighters' difficulties.

None of those calls compared with 9/11, but even in a more serene setting in the new village, there comes a point where retirement feels right, Buchholtz said.

For Dan Buchholtz, brother Stu's decision to retire from his full-time job at We Energies and his part-time role with the village led him to his own decision to retire at age 66.

"I've been thinking about retiring for the last year or so. Ever since I turned 65, I said, you know, it's getting to be time," Dan Buchholtz said. "And I didn't want to be the guy who was here 50 years and they had to push me out."

For Stu, the time he won't have to devote to his job as a firefighter and part-time administrator or his job at We Energies leaves him more moments to enjoy the less stressful aspects of life.

"I just want to spend more time with my family now," Stu Buchholtz said. "I'm getting up there in age, so you never know."

Contact Jim Riccioli at (262) 446-6635 or james.riccioli@jrn.com. Follow him on Twitter at @jariccioli.