William Anthony “Tony” Baumgartner was born in Michigan on September 14, 1953. Moving to Alabama in his early years, he would become the oldest of six children. Times were tough for families, but he grew into the roles of a protector, provider, and teacher.

After graduating from Hubbertville High, Tony joined the Alabama National Guard, where he spent over 20 years taking care of comrades and communities, driving heavy equipment, and learning how to make something out of nothing as machinists do. In 1974, he began a 29-year career as a journeyman in maintenance with Arvin Industries in Fayette, Alabama. He helped establish a credit union and served on the board for his duration.

During his mid-20s, he started volunteering at local fire stations, until he saw the need in his own community. He traveled to estate sales, thrift stores, and going-out-of-business sales to find walkie-talkies, fire suits, hoses, and any other equipment that might be of use. He learned to apply for grants for funding that could help get what they couldn’t afford or raise. Slowly, they were able to buy a truck and fix it up, later a building, and little by little, he wrangled neighbors to join the cause. Eventually, dedicated men and women built it into what it is now, Lawrence Mill Volunteer Fire Department. Captain Baumgartner was devoted to the fire department for 39 years, and he found joy in teaching the next generations how to thrive.

As his daughter, I have memories that no one else shares—lessons, sacrifices, and the reward of doing what’s right even when no one is watching. After picking us up for the weekend, he would take the long way to his house, dirt roads with Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson blaring on the radio, turning a 25-minute drive into two hours. Teaching me to drive, he would take a different route each time, quizzing me along the way. “What did that road sign say? What direction are we going? Do you know where we are?” He was a genuine co-parent; every decision, punishment, celebration, or play, he was there. We rode four-wheelers, took so many camping trips I lost count, and family reunions and barbecues were a must. He loved football, especially high school. He worked second shift mostly, but if we were playing at home that Friday night, you could bet Dad would be out “sick.”

Tony’s last ten years were spent blissfully content with his soulmate, his partner in crime, and the bearer of all his pranks. He was a husband, father, big brother, teacher, volunteer, captain, and much more. He is greatly missed every day.