How an Indiana fire department’s new Pierce fire truck turned a family’s loss into a legacy of love and brotherhood.

A Fire Truck Named Maverick

In the weeks after losing his four-year-old son in a tragic farm accident, the last thing Mitchell Flinn wanted to do was attend his fire department’s push-in ceremony for a new Pierce fire truck. Like any father facing unimaginable grief, the Seymour Fire Department firefighter wanted to stay close to home and out of the public eye.

The push-in ceremony is a longstanding tradition in Seymour, Indiana, marking the moment a new fire truck officially enters service. It’s usually a day for community pride, handshakes and celebration. “I was just surviving minute by minute,” Flinn said. “The last thing I wanted to do was be around people who would be laughing and having a good time.”

But after several calls from his fellow firefighters, he and his wife were finally convinced to attend. “Nothing could have prepared me for what happened,” Flinn said.

A Surprise He Wasn’t Ready For

During the ceremony, Seymour Mayor Matt Nicholson, Assistant Fire Chief Anthony Walker, and Fire Chief Eric Roll spoke about the importance of community involvement and the brotherhood and pride which come with being a firefighter. Walker then pulled back a strip of painter’s tape and revealed what had been hidden: the department had named the new fire truck Maverick, in honor of Flinn’s late son. 

“It was a complete and absolute surprise to both me and my wife,” Flinn said. “I can’t put into words the emotion I was feeling — knowing my fellow firefighters had my back, and my son’s name would be out there in service, helping to save lives.”

A Life Built Around the Firehouse

Flinn has been with the Seymour Fire Department for nearly six years, but the firehouse has been part of his life for much longer. “I grew up around it,” he said. “My dad has been with the department for 25 years."

Growing up in the station made firefighting feel like a natural path. “It was one of those things I knew from day one I’d be doing,” Flinn said. “I never thought of it as a job but as a calling, a vocation.” Flinn could already see Maverick following in his footsteps. 

Some of Flinn’s favorite memories of Maverick are from when his wife would bring him to the station. “He’d be there almost every shift, running around, putting everyone’s helmets on, making everyone laugh,” he said. “He loved it so much. He had to have fire trucks at home and his own little firefighting outfit.”

Farming and the Dangers No One Talks About

In his short but impactful time, Maverick didn’t just live the firehouse life—he lived the farm life, too. Flinn’s family farm has been passed down for eight generations, and Flinn is quick to note farming comes with real risks. Long days, unpredictable conditions and heavy equipment demand constant attention.

“People don’t always talk about the hard parts of farming or the tragedies which can come with it,” Flinn said. “In a split second, something can go wrong.”

After a farming accident took Maverick’s life, the family’s grief could have remained private. Instead, it became the starting point of something bigger. Flinn and his family created the Maverick Minute Foundation, built around a simple idea: pause for sixty seconds and pay attention to your surroundings.

Taking a Maverick Minute

The Maverick Minute is a reminder to slowdown before you begin a task or move through a routine you’ve done a hundred times before, according to Flinn. On the farm, it might mean walking around a piece of heavy machinery or checking your surroundings before starting work.

At the firehouse, it’s the same idea. “We take a Maverick Minute before responding to every call,” Flinn said. “In a profession where every second counts, it’s also important to remember everything can change in a split second. Taking a conscious pause can help make sure we aren’t rushing into something dangerous.”

The Maverick Minute message has even expanded beyond farming and firefighting. Local hospitals have adopted it before surgeries, and major employers in the area have brought it into their safety briefings, according to Flinn. “It fits with just about anything,” Flinn said. “And if we can save one life, no matter what profession or situation, it’s totally worth it.”

A Fire Family’s Tribute

By naming its new fire truck Maverick, the Seymour Fire Department sent a clear message: Maverick mattered. He belonged to the firehouse and he still does. “It’s a beautiful truck and stands out everywhere it goes,” Flinn said. 

Pierce even created a custom Maverick badge to replace the standard Pierce emblem, which meant the world to Flinn. “Pierce alone went above and beyond,” he said. “Something so small means so much.” 

The department placed the badge on the rear of the apparatus, which Flinn said will get better visibility in traffic. “One thing a lot of firemen complain about is people not pulling over when a fire truck comes through,” Flinn said. “But now, the town knows the truck and more cars have gotten out of the way than ever before.”

Flinn hopes Maverick’s name not only reminds drivers to pull over, but also encourages people to take a Maverick Minute in their own lives. “If somebody sees Maverick on the road,” he said, “I hope they take a Maverick Minute to breathe, pray or just slow down. Even if it's just to take a moment to appreciate what you have in your life.”

A Final Message for Firefighters

Flinn is the first to admit, like many firefighters, he used to believe you were supposed to carry the weight quietly. “I’ve always been the one to say, ‘Oh, you don’t need therapy. You don’t need to talk to somebody,’” he said. “But after Maverick passed away, I knew I needed help.” 

Now, Flinn encourages anyone in the fire service who’s carrying grief, trauma, or stress to seek support, too. “It’s been a huge help,” he said, “and it’s helped me be there for my wife and my 20-month-old son Maddox.”

Flinn also knows he doesn’t have to walk through his grief alone. In the days following Maverick’s death, he saw firsthand what the fire service truly is at its core: family. “Most firemen are hard shells,” he said. “But they’re soft insides.” And when his world fell apart, his fellow firefighters showed up in ways he’ll never forget, checking in daily, sitting with him and reminding him he didn’t have to carry the pain by himself. 

The truck named Maverick represents not only a child’s legacy and a community’s tribute, but a reminder firefighters don’t have to tough it out alone. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is take a Maverick Minute for yourself, to slow down, breathe and ask for help when you need it.