Saturday, August 29, 2009

Sirens' Song on Isabella

Late on the Sunday before classes began, I was unloading my car after having moved most of my things from Cleveland. At about 10:30 PM a small black car plunged through the darkness and split the night with a hair razing shriek. It sped down the quiet residential street at about 55 mph, hit the curb in front of my house, and was launched 4 to 5 feet in the air. The car came down and totaled the front end into the street when it slammed into the street, skidded, and finally came to rest at least 30 yards from its launching point. I began running to where the car landed yelling to a family that was watching, "SOMEONE CALL 911!" as I raced passed.

I was first to arrive at the car and walked around looking for passengers. Not seeing any I proceeded to open the door. there sat a round man in the driver's seat with airbags flowing from the steering wheel. He still had enough sense left in him to remember to fasten his seat belt. Against my plea for him to stay seated, the intoxicated, barrel shaped man pushed passed me and began yelling at his friend over the phone, "DUDE, SOMEONE STOLE MY CAR! Can you come pick me up!?! I just crashed it but tell them someone stole it!" He was not really cooperative, but also was not seriously injured. He started walking away from the accident, telling those standing around, "Tell the cops that someone stole my car! Just tell them my car was stolen!"

And then enter the hero of our story, a tall, white haired corrections officer came from his house wearing a black muscle shirt. He sat the guy down on some steps, put a coke in his hand, and convinced him to wait for the police. I stayed with them just incase some sort of medical emergency arose, but none did. He just kept saying, "You guys are great, you guys are cool," over and over again. I was amazed that he had no injuries not even a scratch on him. Then came the fire department, followed closely by the police, and finally the curious neighbors mystically drawn from their homes by the siren's repetitive song. After having inspected the accident and verified that no one was hurt the fire department left, and the police took over the investigation.

The sidewalks were filled with curious on lookers out for a nightly stroll around the block, stopping short of their final destinations to talk with eyewitnesses and gawk at the scene unfolding.

When my cell phone said it was nearly 11:00 PM, I asked the police if I needed to make a statement, and after receiving confirmation that I was able to leave, I walked back down the street, continued to unload my car, brushed my teeth, and after a few minute talk with my roommate fell asleep to awaken the next morning. All in all a not so average evening on Isabella Avenue.


Anonymous said...

In case some sort of medical emergency arose? Your totally qualified to handle that after three weeks of medical school; that week of orientation will be especially helpful.

Colin said...

well I did work as an EMT in an ER, but I laughed because I probably know just enough to be dangerous.

JC said...

Oh boy, what a start! Good luck!

Jacob Brown said...

That's crazy dude. Thanks for the comments about my blog. I mainly keep it up to keep my family informed of what I'm up too. hah didn't realize it was getting more attention! Keep it up.

Kurt said...

Hooah! Congrats on joining the Army, it's a good way to be a doctor and it changes how you look at medicine, especially after camp. In CFMP every time you say "Yeah, but we'll have an automatic blood pressure cuff..." you realize, that no, no you won't. You'll be hearing from me throughout the year about Army and HPSP stuff.

And as much as people question our limited medical skills, friends still call me asking for medical advice. Double standards galore.