Roll Over

Walking up to the scene, I couldn't see the vehicle. Just clumps of earth and rock that had been thrown onto the highway from where the front passenger side tire first fell from the shoulder. From that point, four black skid marks arching sixty feet left and the roadway heading north. Another hundred and fifty feet down through a beautiful green forest, a white vehicle wrapped violently around a large ponderosa pine. A debris field of the entire contents of the vehicle littered the forest floor. Random articles of clothing strewn about. A laptop, tools, CDs, broken sunglasses, a crushed cell phone. Money: small change once conveniently placed in a cup holder now aimlessly scattered. Shoes, blankets, a half eaten egg Mcmuffin, and then a child's shoe. My heart sinks and quickens at the same time. I try to move as fast as I can while carrying my rescue bags on a steep grade. I try to prepare myself for the horrible things I'm about to see. Even though I've been in this field of work for quite some time and have seen hundreds of accidents, I'm never quite prepared. I always repeat the three basics for saving lives over and over in my head: Airway, breathing, and circulation. It seems to simplify things and calms me in a way. As I get closer to the vehicle, the all-too-familiar smells of a bad accident fill my lungs with their heaviness. A mixture of leaking radiator fluid, gasoline, hot oil, mangled metal and burnt rubber. The vehicle was resting on its passenger side. The undercarriage met the tree dead center with such force that it bent the entire vehicle like a horse shoe. The roof had pulled and stretched downward, leaving only four to six inches to peer through what was once the rear window. I couldn't see anyone inside. I yelled out a couple of loud hellos and held my breath to listen. Not really expecting a response, but maybe hoping for a moan, tapping, or a desperate whisper. My partner made his way to the front windshield, pushed his head and torso into the cab as far as he could and said, "There's no one in here." All of the windows being blown out and the drivers side door open and pointing preciously to the sky were strong signs that all occupants were ejected. Our eyes immediately began to scan our surroundings including the tree tops. At this point, law enforcement and other rescue teams had begun the descent to aid us. We yelled for them to fan out and look for victims amongst the debris and shrubs. I worked my way back, clockwise, searching low where the vehicle rested on freshly scoured earth, looking for any protruding appendages. The slope dropped sharply as I came around to the under carriage. A dirty monster hissing and ticking, still cooling from its long drive. I turned to my left and just another fifteen feet down the slope, my eyes met what we had been searching for. A blue jean leg with a deflated tube sock dangling from a shoeless, lifeless foot. I yelled to my partner and we rushed to the aid of our patient. We reached the patient at the same time, both breathing heavy and ready to go to work. A man in his 40's half suspended off the ground by oak shrubs laid lifeless before us. Immediately, we could see that there was nothing we could do to save this man. His neck had been cut almost to the point of decapitation. His pants were ripped down just above his knees exposing his stretched torso, genitals and deformed pelvis. We placed the leads of our heart monitor on him and confirmed that there were no sings of life. No electrical activity at all. I closed his eyes and put a white hospital blanket over him.

I was raised Mormon and although I no longer feel very religious or attend any church, I always say a prayer for the deceased in my head. I pray for the forgiveness of their sins and that they will be able to go to a good place. I also pray for their family and loved ones that they may heal and cope from their loss. Maybe it's the fear that was instilled in me as a child by my religious institution. The fear of dying with my own sins unresolved before God. The fear of fire and hell for all the sins I've committed. Not that I'm such a horrible person but the bible is so black and white on the issue. Either you've repented and you're good with God or you're a sinner and dammed to hell! For some, death comes so sudden and unexpected. It seems so unfair. Like some final exam with no due date, we're always supposed to be prepared for. Well, I'm not, I'm not prepared for it at all. And to see so many people that have just had there lives snatched out of thin air disturbs me.

I'd like to think it's not that way. That there is light and love waiting for all of us on the other side, no matter how many stupid things we've done. But, if not, just in case it's just as black and white as the good book says it is. I pray for them.

There were no other patients. This man was traveling alone. Judging by the amount of belongings and house hold items, he was most likely moving to a new home. On the way back up the hill I found a group of photos lying in the dirt. A picture of him through a frame witcracglass, a little younger in a military uniform. Pictures with him and his family. He was a veteran, a husband, a father, a man that I would never have the privilege of meeting. A man, that I'm sure will be missed.

My partner and I quietly put our equipment away and prepare for our next call. We drive away and try to leave the horrible images that we've just seen behind us. But they will never leave us, like bad tattoos painfully scratched into our brains.