Franklin Square Fire Commissioner Dennis Lyons receives Make a Difference Award for decades of service

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Dennis Lyons, a fire commissioner at the Franklin Square and Munson Fire Department, was presented the Make a Difference Award by the Town of Hempstead on May 15 for his outstanding service to the town.

The award honors individuals in the Town who have made a significant impact on their communities through volunteerism or other acts of kindness.

Town Councilman Thomas Muscarella, who nominated Lyons, said in a statement that it was a privilege to recognize him for the many roles he has played in the Franklin Square community.

“Dennis has proven countless times over that he cares for the safety and people of our community,” Muscarella’s statement read. “He remains extremely active in the service and is always a ‘go to’ guy whenever there is a panel or board that requires representation.”

Lyons, 83, joined the FSMFD in 1967 as a volunteer firefighter. He recalled filling out an application at the firehouse and quickly being assigned to Engine Company No. 2, where he remains today.

Over the years, he rose through the ranks as a lieutenant in 1969 and a captain in 1971, before being elected by taxpayers as fire commissioner in 1998. He has served five consecutive terms.

Because his role at the fire department is unpaid, Lyons has also worked at Consolidated Edison Company in New York City since 1959, where he continues to serve as a litigation manager.

He is a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, the Society of Professional Investigators, the Association of Licensed Detectives of New York State, the International Police Association, and the Fraternal Order of Police.

Lyons said that when he hears a call on his radio, it takes him five to seven minutes to reach the firehouse from his home on Craft Avenue, depending on traffic.

As commissioner, he does not have a blue light on his car—commonly installed on volunteer firefighters’ vehicles—as per New York state regulations. That means he must follow normal traffic laws, including waiting at long red lights on Dogwood Avenue and Fenworth Boulevard.

Once at the station, he puts on his turnout gearcoat, pants, boots, helmet, and a Scott mask—a breathing apparatus used in hazardous environments.

Volunteers who live closer typically arrive within two minutes, he said. The first truck is usually deployed four minutes after a call comes in. By the time Lyons arrives, the second truck—usually deployed at six minutes—has often already left. Lyons typically joins the third truck, which leaves about eight minutes after the call.

Since he began at FSMFD, Lyons said numerous safety regulations and training requirements have been introduced. He noted these many of these changes are due to modern construction materials containing chemicals more likely to cause cancer.

Lyons said the role is demanding, and recruiting new volunteers is challenging due to the intensive training, safety concerns and lack of pay. With the rising cost of living, he said, it’s difficult for young people to commit to an unpaid job.

And, while he sees the new safety measures as necessary, they can deter potential volunteers because they are time-consuming and expensive to implement.

He also raised concern about the ambulance shortage in Nassau County, caused by rising costs. For medical emergencies like strokes, a delay of just a few minutes can mean the difference between life and death, he said.

In response, Lyons worked with Nassau County and local officials to secure benefits for first responders, including increased pay for fire department-specific EMTs and funding for ambulances.

Chris Mollish, a fellow fire commissioner and Lyons’s colleague of 44 years, said Lyons not only works to secure department resources but also serves as a role model for younger volunteers.

“He’s got a heart of gold,” Mollish said.

Lyons said the work is not just physically demanding, it’s also psychologically stressful. Over his 58-year career, he’s witnessed many tragic accidents and deadly fires. He regularly reminds colleagues that mental health resources are available to help them cope.

“When you want to be a volunteer, you want to be macho,” he said. “It’s like you don’t want anybody to know what’s bothering you.”

But, he said, the county offers mental health services volunteers can access privately if they’re not comfortable sharing feelings publicly. There’s no shame in getting help, Lyons asserted.

Outside of his role at the firehouse, Lyons has maintained a close relationship with his next-door neighbor’s family.

Agnes Pagnotta, who lives one house over, said Lyons is like family. Though they’re not related by blood, he plays a major role in her children’s lives.

Pagnotta moved in next door in 2010 with her four-month-old son, Lucas. She said she instantly felt a connection with Lyons and his late wife, Arlene, who quickly bonded with her son.

While Arlene died four years ago, Pagnotta says Arlene’s memory lives on in the powerful connection that remains between Dennis and her children.

“It was just a heartwarming feeling, you know?” Pagnotta said. “I would do anything for him, and he would do anything for my children.”

Visits to Lyons’s home are part of the family’s daily routine. He’s helped raise Lucas, now 15, and her other children—Adriana, 12; Giavana, 10; and Stefania, 5. Giavana is Lyons’s goddaughter.

Lyons helps the children with schoolwork, takes them to the firehouse and teaches them about its operations. Lucas is now a teen volunteer with FSMFD, learning how to assist firefighters during emergencies, including CPR and Narcan administration.

Whether it’s gardening, reading, music, sports, or any new skill, Pagnotta said Lyons is there for it all. He hasn’t missed a single birthday, she said.

“I couldn’t ask for a better neighbor,” she said, tearing up. “I don’t even call him my neighbor—I call him my dad.”

Lyons is even listed as her emergency contact, she added, because she knows he would drop everything to help in a crisis.

Despite all the work he does, Lyons emphasized he has never been paid for it.

“It’s dedication,” Lyons said. “It’s something that you love to do. You want to help people, and it’s something that’s in your heart and mind to do it.”