Who was the man whose life ended last night beside the running trail? Was he a regular at the park? How often had I passed him going the opposite way? How many times did he lap me jogging as I walked the three-mile loop? Did we ever nod at one another, give some sign of recognition as fellow members of the community of park denizens? Would I have recognized his face were it not for the abrasions and the pallor of his skin? Will I recall him by some process of elimination as I scan faces in the coming weeks?
Did he feel any warning signs of the cardiac event or cerebral accident, or was he enjoying his run until the moment he was struck down?
What good Samaritan came upon him first? Who saw him stumble to his knees, perhaps, then fall the rest of the way to the ground? Was his breathing labored, or did it stop abruptly? Did they hesitate before beginning to administer CPR, hoping that he might recover on his own? How long did it take for someone to call 9-1-1? How much time had passed before I came upon the scene of his agony?
How had the paramedics passed their Thursday evening before the call came in? Did they wait in keen anticipation of the call to save a life, or did they hope for a quiet night? How long did it take them to find their way to the tableau: victim, would-be heroes, and the curious gathered under the streetlamps by the driving range? Did our suggestions to the 9-1-1 operator about where to enter the park provide any help? How long had we been keeping vigil there before we heard the sirens?
Did those nine young men in blue uniforms feel the pressure of our hope as they set up a makeshift trauma room on the gritty path? Do they know how we admired their concentration, their seriousness, their selfless efforts on behalf of the fragile life laid out on the wet clay? Did they notice how we prayed or talked in hushed voices or stood in silence while they took vital signs, hooked up a monitor and an intravenous tube, and wrapped the man’s frail ribcage in the device that was both defibrillator and chest compressor? How many ampoules of medicine did they inject into his IV? Did their optimism fade (as ours did) each time they shocked him and looked in vain for hopeful signs on the monitor? How long had we been standing there before the paramedics received the instruction to take him away by ambulance?
Who was waiting for the man to come home from the park? When did the call come? How many friends and family members will try to grasp the circumstances that accompanied the end of this life?
What had changed among us as we made our way back to our vehicles? How connected did we feel at that moment to these strangers we see without recognition every day?
When the rain comes and washes away the footprints and the few bits of plastic the EMTs left behind, will we forget what happened there? Or each time we make this circle, will we think of the man whose life ended beside the running trail?
Note: The assignment was to examine the power of questions. I’m sorry to have to report that this is a true story in which I took part last night. I dedicate this modest writing effort to the man who passed away, may he rest in peace, and to all the beautiful human beings who tried to save him.
I think you’ve expressed what I’d like to say better than I can manage at the moment. This true story reminds me of a little story of my own, tucked away in the dark recesses of my memory. And, as I reluctantly notice that old story, I remember how precious and unpredictable life is. I was so comfortable with ignoring that. Thanks for that, and also for the reminder of the people who surround us, the ones we treasure and the ones we take for granted.
A fitting tribute. I know you were worried about the questions, thinking some of them were forced or artificial. But they didn’t really read that way. There are some that you may want to tighten up for your own preference, but I think it reads well without changes.
I like the progression of the questions to the ultimate ones of who was waiting for him/ who will receive the call…I like this..
So powerful! You really capture the thousands of thoughts that fly through your mind while you are witnessing a life and death situation. As a first responder, I can assure you those same thoughts go through our minds too. Brought back some memories of how hard you can work and how helpless you feel when you don’t succeed.