GREEN RIVER — There are men who pass through a community, and then there are men who become the community.

Allen “Big Al’ Buschelman was the latter.

Green River lost one if its most beloved figures March 8. The void he leaves will be felt from the firehouse to the football field and every subdivision he helped build.

The Fireman’s Fireman

At the Green River Fire Department, Buschelman was the kind of firefighter others quietly depended on.

“He was dependable and knew how to drive a truck,” former GRFD firefighter and TRN Media president Al Harris said.

At the GRFD, that meant something specific, he was one of the few men that knew how to handle the department’s restored 1946 fire truck. A project he had helped bring back to life with his own hands. When Buschelman passed, it was only fitting that same truck carried his casket to the funeral.

Buschelman’s giving spirit extended well beyond the job. He helped organize the fireworks displays for Green River High School football games, a tradition that continues today and adds color to the Friday night lights.

In his later years, Al stepped back from the physical demands of active calls and turned his attention to the next generation. New recruits came to know him as a mentor who believed in passing down not just technique, but the deeper traditions of the fire service.

The GRFD captured his dedication to mentoring in its Facebook tribute: “Big Al wasn’t just a firefighter. He was a mentor, a friend, a brother, and a cornerstone of the GRFD family.”

Jeb Burnett, retired GRFD Fire Captain kept his remembrance short and direct, the way Al probably would have wanted.

“He was a damn good guy, he helped everyone out, he was always there to help everybody,” Burnett said.

Built Green River, Then Saved It

Beyond the firehouse, Buschelman’s concrete business helped shape the subdivisions that define Green River today. His crews were loyal and hardworking with Buschelman being famously easy going about who he hired, as long as they put in the effort. He drove a diesel truck that was loud enough to hear coming from down the street, letting his workers know to get back to it.

However, not every job went smoothly. Tom Wilson, his son-in-law, tells one story about a stranded building inspector. Wilson alleges that the other members of the crew took a ladder down while a building inspector was still on the roof. As he often did, Big Al came to the rescue and helped the inspector off the roof.

Killer 1 and Killer 2

No story about Big Al is complete without mentioning his Killers. Al owned a small, black poodle he named Killer 1 and once he passed away, he adopted another small black poodle he named Killer 2. Al carried the dogs tucked inside his coat regularly. Burnett remembered the pets without hesitation.

“Al was big and strong, and he kept Killer in his coat always,” Burnett said.

The contrast was not lost on anyone. The biggest man in the room, walking in with a little dog named Killer zipped into his jacket. It was the perfect symbol of who Big Al really was, someone who could level you with a handshake and then turn around and gently carry something small and fragile without a second thought.

“He had a heart as big as his body,” Harris said.

Ask anyone who knew Big Al, and there’s a good chance they’ll start with the handshake.

“He’d grab your hand, turn his wrist, and smile while he was doing it,” Harris recalled. “It would bring you to your knees.”

It was classic Big Al, physical, playful, and just a little mischievous. A man who knew his own strength and used it to make people laugh.