Today, our hearts are unbearably heavy. The plant is quieter, the air denser, and the weight of loss presses on us all. It is with profound sadness and disbelief that we mourn the passing of our dear friend, colleague, and sister in solidarity—Sydney Faith Hunter.
Working in the plant industry isn’t just about punching in and out. It’s a way of life that bonds people in unexpected and deeply personal ways. You spend long hours together—facing challenges, solving problems, laughing through stress, and sharing moments of joy and frustration alike. Over time, those we work beside become more than coworkers—they become family. That’s what Sydney was to me, and to so many others. A sister. A confidant. A light.
I’m honestly struggling to process this. My eyes are swollen with grief. My heart can’t fully accept it. It doesn’t feel real—Dang, my friend is really gone. I’m in shock. I hate waking up to news like this. That gut-punch of loss, that emptiness in your chest when you realize someone you care about is gone, never to walk through those plant doors again, never to hear their voice or laugh or encouragement again… it’s too much.
Sydney wasn’t just a teammate; she was a lifeline. In an environment that can be physically tough and emotionally exhausting, she brought heart. She checked in on me—not just once in a while, but consistently. With sincerity. With care. I can still hear her asking, “You doing good today?” And she meant it every time.
We shared more than shifts and tasks. We shared life. I passed along recipes to her—recipes I hadn’t even shared with anyone else. That was the kind of connection we had. One built on trust, on comfort, on real friendship. And now, that friendship lives only in memory.
Her presence was felt far and wide—across Local 276 and Local 1853. Her warmth reached beyond her workstation. She had this energy that lifted others up even when she was carrying her own weight. She stood tall, supported others, and gave without needing recognition. The hole left in her absence is massive and aching.
This tragedy is a brutal, heart-wrenching reminder that tomorrow is never promised. We make plans, we say “see you later,” assuming there will be another day. But now… now all I want is one more conversation, one more laugh, one more moment to tell her what she meant to us. And I can’t have that.
You meant so much to so many. Your name, your smile, your kindness—they’ll echo in these halls and in our hearts for a long, long time. You will never be forgotten. You are deeply missed, and you are eternally loved.
Rest easy, my dear friend.
We’ll carry your memory forward with every shift, every story shared, every recipe passed down.
Until we meet again.
In loving memory of Sydney Faith Hunter — gone too soon, never forgotten.
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