Timothy Berthiaume entered the world on a day meant for remembering heroes—November 11th, 1953—and in many ways, he grew into one himself. Born the youngest in a bustling, loving family, Tim quickly learned to find his voice, and often his humour, among all the noise and laughter. From the very beginning, he had a spark that made people feel at ease—whether through a quick joke, a warm smile, or a perfectly timed story.

As a young man, Tim married Sue Berthiaume, and together they welcomed two children, Natalie and Michael, who quickly became the center of his world. Fatherhood lit him from the inside out. No matter what was happening around him—shifts, long days, or challenges—nothing mattered more to him than those two kids. They were, as he often said, “the best thing I ever helped make.”

Life shifted, as it sometimes does, and when one chapter closed, another quietly waited to begin. That next chapter arrived in the form of Jane—his partner, his confidante, his adventuring companion, and ultimately the person he would share the rest of his life with. Together, they built a life threaded with laughter, courage, and change. From Windsor to Calgary and eventually back home to Leamington, they carried their joy with them, making every place they lived a little warmer and happier.

Tim’s career was defined by service, strength, and an unwavering commitment to others. He began as a young firefighter, full of determination, until a back injury forced him to step away from frontline duties. But Tim never believed in stepping back from purpose. Instead, he climbed the administrative ladder with the same dedication he had always shown, eventually becoming Deputy Chief of Windsor Fire Department, and later Deputy Chief in Calgary. He served as interim Chief in Airdrie, Alberta, and even came out of retirement to support the Leamington Fire Service as Chief for a year, filling a leadership gap until a permanent chief could be found. He joked often about “retiring more than once,” and each time he stepped back in, it was simply because he cared.

And through it all, there was soup.

At ten o’clock sharp—unless a fire call came in—Tim would gather around the table with his crew and begin what became one of the most beloved traditions in every firehall he touched. A pot on the stove, the warm smell of broth and vegetables in the air, and firefighters shoulder to shoulder, sharing stories, teasing one another, and taking a moment to breathe. Soup wasn’t just soup for Tim—it was connection. It was community. It was home, no matter what city he was serving.

Tim faced his final chapter in 2020 with the same humor that carried him through his life. Even as cancer and heart issues challenged him, he kept everyone laughing—those closest to him, the people caring for him, and anyone who happened to cross his path. His humor became a kind of medicine, a reminder that even in difficult times, light could still be found.

Tim Berthiaume was loved by so many—family, fellow firefighters, friends from all corners of his life. He left behind stories, laughter, and a legacy of service that won’t soon be forgotten. And in kitchens and firehalls everywhere, whenever a pot of soup simmers at 10 a.m., someone is bound to think of him and smile.

Because Tim never stopped giving people something to gather around—whether it was courage, love, or just a really good pot of soup.