Goodbye Brown Eyes

Some things cannot be forgotten.

 

I hadn’t been a Firefighter/ETT very long

but I enjoyed helping people.

It was a departure from my regular job, work was slow in 1986.

As a volunteer in the department I carried a two-way radio…

everywhere I went.

 

It was late Friday evening when I heard one of the broadcasts

that I had grown to anticipate…

“Recall company seven, recall company seven”

That was the cue for all volunteers to gather at the station,

the regular crew was on a call.

 

I grabbed my blue jacket and radio and jumped in my truck.

The best part of these calls was the blue emergency beacon.

I loved turning that flashing light on and racing into town.

I had just ended a twelve-year marriage…

serving with the fire department gave me purpose and worth again.

 

At the station I signed in per usual, I needed the $12.50 I would receive for responding.

Only a couple of other volunteers had arrived, the ambulance and crash truck were gone.

It was a single vehicle rollover,

about twenty-five miles north of town.

I was listening to the crew talk with the dispatcher on my radio.

 

Single victim, no seat belt, he’d been ejected.

The crew was struggling to maintain a heartbeat.

Massive head trauma, blood loss, CPR…

they were en route at last….

they just lost the heartbeat again.

 

Fifteen minutes out.

The crew was exhausted and called for help to meet them at the hospital.

I volunteered to go while the other two firefighters covered the station.

I arrived at the hospital and went directly to the ambulance bay…

they were five minutes out now.

 

This was my first medical call and I went over my training as I waited.

My radio was as silent as I was.

Five minutes, four, three…

I heard the siren and saw the lights coming,

I was ready.

 

The ambulance pulled into the parking lot and started backing to the door.

The first thing I noticed was the rear bumper…

There were two streams of blood coming from under the ambulance door…

running across and down the steel, steadily dripping onto the ground.

The crimson on chrome was striking.

 

The ambulance parked and the rear door opened…

Dear God!

The walls and ceiling were splattered with blood,

the floor was covered completely.

The EMT’s face was grey.

 

The training kicked in and I dropped my radio to the floor...

I needed both hands to help unload the gurney.

We rolled the gurney through the ER entrance as the paramedic yelled “run”.

If there was any chance at all it was fading quickly.

We ran with the gurney.

 

The ER was ready for us.

Needles, tubes, paddles, nurses, doctors…

all waiting.

In an instant the patient was on the ER table,

the EMT told me to take over CPR.

 

I took his position and began CPR,

pausing only when the doctor instructed me to.

“Resume CPR”.

With each compression I prayed, “God, please…”

I was face to face with the young man, I felt alone with him.

 

His eyes were open but vacant as we worked,

I was silently pleading for him.

“1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5, stop CPR”

“Clear!”

“Resume CPR…”

 

It all seemed to be in slow-motion now,

hands and instruments and equipment everywhere.

Orders and information filling the room…

but for me it had grown strangely quiet.

I looked into his eyes to reassure him.

 

In the distance I heard a voice…

“Stop CPR… Stop CPR… I said stop CPR”

I glanced up and the doctor and nurses were all looking at me.

“Stop CPR” the doctor repeated with a gentle understanding,

“I’m calling this one, note the time”. It was 11:57 pm.

 

I felt his cool skin beneath my hands for the first time

as other details of his face came back into focus.

I realized it was over… I reluctantly stopped.

I looked into his eyes once more...

they were dark brown, just like mine.

 

I washed the blood from my hands and wiped my jacket as clean as I could.

I then retrieved my radio from where I had dropped it and went back to the station.

The ambulance arrived and I asked if I could help clean it...

they told me I had 'done real good' but they would finish up.

They knew it was the first time I had felt death’s touch, that was enough for one day. 

Reviews

[Kelly D. Burris]

Very emotional write,with all involved. I don't know how anyone could read this and have dry eyes when they were done. I commend you for the wonderful work you do, even tho the times like this don't seem rewarding at all, they are valued by the family of the young man I'm sure.
Bless you for your heart and hands, and sharing this with us.
Kelly

[Robyn]

so many emotions are evoked in this piece. i found myself reading faster to find out what would happen next

[shythatway]

'I was face to face with the young man, I felt alone with him'

This line stuck with me, so much.. I've never read a first hand story quite like this. (I'm assuming that's what it was, because it seemed so painfully authentic). It must have been very hard to write. Thank you for sharing.

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

This is so sad, so heartbreaking. I hope it helps to write about it. My prayer go out to you in all you do. Debileah

[Clouded in Hopeful Illu..]

This is very touching. I really like the connection between the character and the man. It was as if in that moment that the main character realized that that could have been him/she if they had not found the firefighting opportunity when they did. Other than that, it may also represent how such a thing can really put someone's life into perspective. I think this was a great and emotional write. Thank you for taking the time to share it.

[Tara Jean Olson]

breathtaking...

[Autumn's Child]

I have seen death from a different perspective. I have thankfully never seen it from a traumatic sense as this. But I have seen the quieter side. I have been the aide as a family held vigil for a woman I had been caring for in her last moments of life. I have cleansed countless bodies after they died for families to view. And I have given birth to a child who had died only days before, holding him in my arms until it was time to let him go. I guess when I see death, I see its quieter side because that is all I know. Death is such a mystery because to know it means you went through it and you wouldn't be here to tell about it.

Your experience must have been so gripping, experiencing death for the first time and trying to overcome the odds. You write about it with such detail that it is apparent that it is still with you. Then again, I don't suppose it would ever leave you. Good write, sad experience.

[J]

I completely lost myself in this story, D . . . your "voice" is strong, your heart loving and unselfish, as I've always known you to be. Your sense of detail is striking and I can almost feel your relief in finally being able to give this memory some print. I did have to wait a bit to review as it took a certain frame of mind to do so.

I consider this some of your finer writing, mon ami. Your heart is showing again, as always in your beautiful writes. Thank you so much for sharing. ;-)

Love,
j

[Emily B]

That was definitely enough. You went above and beyond. It was still hard to let go, though.

[Sara Muschweck]

There are no words nor review that could do justice to what you have shared, this moment in time that would have shaken a weaker man to his core. With tears in my eyes, I pray that in my darkest hour there may be one as kind as you to come to my aid. Wonderful write.