After 31 years on the job, a retired Grand Prairie firefighter marked 95 years in the place where it all began.
GRAND PRAIRIE, Texas — Long before the building smelled of burgers and beer, it smelled of smoke, sweat, and the soot of a city growing fast.
And Bob Johnson? He knew every brick.
On Thursday, the oldest living retiree of the Grand Prairie Fire Department walked through the doors of Fire Station No. 1 once again, though now it answers to a new name: Fire House Gastro Park.
The old fire station served Grand Prairie from 1949 to 2014. It served Johnson even longer, and a perfect place to celebrate a milestone he’ll never forget: his 95th birthday.
“I spent about 25 years in this station,” Johnson said, standing on familiar floors. “These are the same floors. I mopped them a thousand times.”
Johnson joined the department in 1955, when Eisenhower was president and red lights were still a novelty in town.
“When I was a boy, I was six, I came to town and we had one red light,” he recalled. “Now, we’ve got too many red lights.”
For 31 years, Johnson answered calls that most would run from. His career ended as a captain and fire marshal for the city. On Thursday, he answered a different one that was much more enjoyable — cake, candles, and memories.
“Well, you really don’t believe it’s happening,” he joked. “The doctor says she’s going to get me to 100, but we’ll have to wait to see.”
Photos lined the old firehouse walls — some faded, others still crisp — chronicling a career that spanned generations.
Johnson showed up in one of the city’s antique fire trucks that the department sold when he was on duty. He bore his old captain’s cap, which hasn’t changed — just the faces around him.
“To have everybody come out. Show their respects. It’s a great day,” said his son, Brent Johnson, now 72. Brent can’t believe how far firefighting — and his father — have come.
“Back when he first came on, there were no oxygen masks, no smoke kits. Nobody knew about the chemicals they interacted with,” Brent said. “It’s remarkable he’s made it to this age.”
And yet, the man who once raced to fires still mows his own lawn, still walks steadily, still carries the posture of someone ready for the next alarm. Some birthdays lose their meaning as years pile up. But not this one. Not here. Not in the place where it all began.
If turning 100 sounds the alarm again? Johnson said he’d be back at station No. 1 to answer the call.
