Winnipeg firefighter’s death is call to action on struggles of first responders, co-workers say

Warning: This story contains discussion of suicide and could be triggering for some people.

Winnipeg firefighters are mourning the loss of their friend and colleague, who they say died by suicide earlier this month, and calling for better mental health supports for first responders.

They also want Preston Heinbigner’s death to be designated as in the line of duty. 

“The line-of-duty death is used for firefighters that have given their life the ultimate sacrifice, usually in a fire or serving their community, and there’s no doubt that Preston’s death was attributed to what he saw on this job. This job is not easy. This job takes a lot out of us,” Dalain Gagne, Heinbigner’s friend for 20 years and a veteran firefighter, told CBC Manitoba Information Radio host Marcy Markusa.

“The line of duty death will assist Preston’s family in getting some benefits that they require and honouring Preston’s memory and his legacy.”

Gagne also created a GoFundMe page “to assist his wife and children to ease financial pressures as they move through living their lives without him.” The couple has a two-year-old son with another baby on the way.

Heinbigner, 40, died April 9 and a funeral will be held Friday.

He had been a Winnipeg firefighter since 2007 and became “a pillar” among his colleagues, said Ken Garon, who called himself fortunate to work alongside Heinbigner.

“He put everybody before himself. Whether it was your first day on the job or you were about to retire, Preston asked, ‘how are you doing?’ He took his time for everybody,” said Garon, who called Heinbigner charismatic and highly intelligent.

“He made everything look easy. Work was easy, life was easy. He was the type of guy that if he was in the room, everyone was paying attention, everyone was drawn to him,” Garon told Markusa.

“I’ve been here my whole life in Winnipeg and he moved here from Saskatchewan and has 10 times more friends than I do.”

But underneath it all, Heinbigner was fighting demons.

Two men sit at a desk with microphones
Dalain Gagne, left, and Ken Garon speak on Wednesday morning to CBC Information Radio host Marcy Markusa about the death of their friend and colleague Preston Heinbigner. (CBC)

Garon said they would have personal talks about the pain and PTSD Heinbigner struggled to keep at bay. On a daily basis, they attended calls where people were dealing with trauma, suicide and the drug epidemic.

“For Preston, he’s the type of guy that he cared about everybody so much. Even people he didn’t know, he wanted them to get better,” Garon said.

Those calls “just took a toll on him. It’s kind of like a boiling pot of water where he just couldn’t keep that lid on anymore.”

War zone

Gagne said the nature of the calls in the past five years has changed dramatically.

“The opioid epidemic, the drug use, the violence. We call it a war zone. We go on shift and you do call after call after call where you see things [that stay with you],” he said.

“You go on on scene, the person is either on the cusp of death or just very close and we have to bring them back. To do that multiple, multiple times per shift, it weighs on you.”

Where first responders once encountered overdose victims or suicide attempts four or five times in a year, it’s now four or five times daily, said Garon.

“I’m not an expert. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know how to make things better,” he said. “But the reality right now is that’s what’s happening to us. That was Preston’s reality.”

The other reality is the reluctance many first responders feel in acknowledging their struggles.

“We’re supposed to be strong, right? All of us go on the calls and we go to help people. So it’s not in our nature to seek help. We’re the ones doing the helping,” Gagne said.

“It is a bit of a hurdle to be forthright and say, ‘you know, I’m not OK.’ I think Preston tried to do that but he wasn’t really comfortable in being completely honest, which is the sad part. We loved him so much and the fact that he felt that he couldn’t be forward and be honest … is really a tragedy.”

More mental health supports and resources are needed to make that decision easier, and Heinbigner’s death needs to be a call to action, he said.

“We cannot have Preston’s death be in vain. That’s why we’re here today,” Gagne said. “We need changes.”

In an emailed statement, the City of Winnipeg said it is working with the firefighters’ union to support Heinbigner’s family but the determination of a line-of-duty death is up to the Workers Compensation Board.

“While the [Winnipeg Fire Paramedic Service] does not determine financial compensation to a member or their family, we can provide other, tailored psychological supports to the family,” the email stated.

Psychological claims made to the Workers Compensation Board by WFPS members increased from 132 in 2020 to 236 the following year. In 2023, there were 201 claims, according to data provided by the city.

Tip of the iceberg

Tom Bilous, president of the city’s firefighters’ union, the United Firefighters of Winnipeg, intends to do what it takes to have WCB declare a line-of-duty death for Heinbigner.

“It properly acknowledges his sacrifice,” Bilous told CBC Manitoba Up to Speed host Faith Fundal.

“We firmly believe that the job — the effects of the job and things seen — were the primary contributor to this horrible tragedy. We are going to fight for this with WCB with all of our resources.”

There are inherent dangers with the job — entering burning buildings and rescuing people and animals — but those aren’t typically the main drivers of mental health issues. It’s the other things that cannot be easily flushed from the mind, he said.

“And that’s where we need the resources, the mental health professionals, to help us shed that baggage.”

A man in short grey hair stands outside in winter, in front of a fenced-off property
Tom Bilous is the president of the United Firefighters of Winnipeg union. (Travis Golby/CBC)

UFFW members have supports through the city’s behavioural health unit but right now, the need is exceeding the resources and help can be a long time coming, Bilous said.

“When our members reach out for help, they’re usually hurting in a lot worse way than we realize,” he said.

“They may not have three weeks or a month or six weeks or whatnot to see a psychiatrist or psychologist. They may need them within days, if not hours.”

More than 10 per cent of UFFW members have made mental health claims to WCB this year alone, Bilous said.

“And I think that’s just scratching the surface. I don’t know how many of those dark, troubled minds are beneath the surface like an iceberg.

“I’m hoping, with this tragedy, we can learn from it. We can put resources out there. We can get people talking, get them in to see people … [and] really look after what’s going on behind our members’ eyes.”


If you or someone you know is struggling, here’s where to get help:

  • Call or text 988. Calls and texts are directed to a network of partners in communities across the country offering suicide prevention services such as counselling.The 988 service is available in English and French to all.
  • Talk Suicide Canada: 1-833-456-4566 (phone) | 45645 (text between 4 p.m. and midnight ET).
  • Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868 (phone), live chat counselling on the website.
  • Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention: Find a 24-hour crisis centre.

This guide from the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health outlines how to talk about suicide with someone you’re worried about.

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