James J. Ryan

James J. Ryan was born on March 13, 1961, to Grace and Robert. He was the youngest of four children. As a child, he was a constant companion to his two older brothers, Robert and Michael, and occasionally a nuisance to his older sister, Maureen. He was a graduate of St. Francis preparatory school where he was an athlete who enjoyed playing football, basketball and ran track. He earned his bachelor’s degree at Iona College and was an avid rugby player. He met his wife, Magda, in 1987, and they were wed in June of 1988. He had three children, Robert, Christian, and Madeline. He was a devoted husband and father. He coached youth basketball for his children and had the patience of a saint with his less athletic sons. He followed his older brother, Robert, into the FDNY in 1995, and that’s where he found his true passion. Serving in Bayside at Engine 320/Ladder 167, “The Patriots,” he was a career firefighter and the chauffeur for Ladder 167 and left his mark on that station. He was maybe not so affectionately referred to as “buzzsaw” around the station due to his biting wit. He was always quick with a joke or a comeback and never took anything lying down. It was said that if he was working, you were laughing. He had a reputation in the house of being both a jokester and a mediator and always helped resolve issues and bridge the gap between the new guys and the old guard. Jimmy was a fun-loving individual who was the life of the party wherever he went. He loved listening to Irish folk music and classic rock. He loved learning more about American history and was a big Civil War and WWII buff. A self-styled handyman, he would take a crack at fixing just about anything. He loved a cold Miller Lite and

could cook up a mean chili. In fact, his chili won the Abiding Presence Lutheran Church chili cookoff so frequently

that they renamed the event in his honor after he passed. He never met a stranger and on occasion needed to be

literally pulled away from a conversation. On 9/11, he arrived on the scene shortly after the second tower fell and was down there nearly every day afterwards to assist in the search and rescue. He was once overheard by his son saying to his wife, Magda, that Ground Zero “was the last place in the world he wanted to be, but the only place in the world he wanted to be.” He was diagnosed in 2006 with pancreatic cancer as a direct result of the time he spent working through the toxic rubble of Ground Zero. He passed away in the early hours of the morning on Christmas Day in 2009. He is deeply missed.