I have had this story sitting in my inbox since the beginning of August. It was written by an EMT. I thought it almost a little too raw and too sad to post, which is why I’ve held on to it. I re-read it today and decided that if someone had to live through this, who am I to say that such an experience is too uncomfortable to post for others to read? Jason, EMT writes:
Yesterday was terrible. Words cannot explain just how bad it was. It’s
enough to make anyone in my line of work question why they do what they do.
A 4-year-old girl died, a freak accident. I know the person who killed
her. It’s hard to decide who needs consoling most, the father of the young
girl or the person who was responsible for her death. Here’s the story,
and it’s a very hard one to tell.
About a mile south of our fire station, on a major US 2 lane highway, there
lives an older couple (in their 80′s). They have a large lake on their
property across the highway from their house. Yesterday, a man brought
his children to go fishing there. It was supposed to be the idyllic day
out for a father and his kids, fishing in the country. He parked his truck
there at the gate going into the pond, and walked across the road to get the
key to the gate. The little girl and her brother (I don’t know an exact
age, but he was under the age of 10) were waiting there at the gate. When
the father walked back from the house to the road, the little girl saw him.
In her excitement, she started to run across the road to meet him. As she
stepped out into the road, a friend of mine that I graduated with was going
to his wife’s parent’s house in his truck. He never saw her. He hit the
young girl doing well over 55 miles per hour. This little angel was not
only killed, she was utterly destroyed. I won’t tell you how bad her body
was mangled, but I will say that it will definitely be a closed-casket
funeral. Since I was at work, I didn’t get to be there when the ambulance
got there, but I got there in time to see her loaded up and going to the
funeral home. I also got to help pick up pieces of this little girl.
That’s right, pieces. If there’s any form of good in this act, it’s that
she never suffered. She died instantly.
To hear our crew tell of pulling up on the scene and seeing the father sitting there on the side of the road, holding the little girl, cradling what was left of her head, sobbing uncontrollably, trying to get the child out of his arms, realizing
that there was nothing that could be done, no matter what. It was
horrible. Her young brother was thirsty, so one of the state troopers and
our driver took him over to get a Gatorade. He was walking across the road,
looking at all the flashing lights, the people picking up parts of his
sister, his father utterly destroyed, and he looked up, with tears in his
eyes and said “This is the worst day of my life”.
I’m a Christian. I believe in God. I know that everything happens for a
reason of some sort, but I have to admit that it’s hard to understand why
this little girl had to be ripped from life in such a violent way. What on
earth could be the reason for that? The only thing that I’m 100% sure of
is that another little angel got her wings yesterday.
I want to say to all my friends here a very heartfelt thank-you. The
people who listen to me, who think I’m so great for doing this…it’s no fun
at all. We in the EMS have what we call a Critical Incident Stress
Debreifing. This is my form of that. This is my therapy. Thank you so
much for letting me tell stories like this. I cried like a baby while I
was on that scene, cried all the way to the station, held my partner when I
got back to the station as she broke down, and then went home and held my wife and cried some more. Hell, I’m crying right now. I’m here at
work, trying to make a deadline. My wife has gone to her mother’s house to
pick up our four-year-old daughter. I’m going home sometime tonight, and will just hold her
for a while. Any of you with children, I’d encourage you to do the same
thing. And while you do, say a prayer for this family that has lost a
child, and a prayer for the guy who never saw what he did.