We lost a real hero last week. His name is Jim Riches. He wore the hat of a deputy chief for New York City’s fire department. But the title that really anchored his life and guided his life choices had no rank or uniform.

He was a father.

Riches died last week. He was 74.

Twenty-four years ago, Riches, who lived in Brooklyn, made a choice that ultimately brought about the series of acute respiratory ailments that led to his death. His oldest son, Jimmy, a FDNY firefighter, was among the 343 members of the department who were killed in the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

But Jimmy’s body was never found — not in the first few days, anyway. His father sought to remedy that.

Chief Riches joined the search teams that converged on the seven-story pile of twisted rubble in lower Manhat

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