Our annual family beach trip took a turn yesterday, in typical 2020 fashion.
We had just spent several hours on the beach, sandy cheeks and sun-kissed noses. We came back up to the condo for a snack and a nap. I was sitting in the master bedroom watching a terrible movie, with my husband on the balcony in my peripheral. I saw him jump up and grab the binoculars. I thought for sure it was a shark, or something of that nature.
I climbed out of bed, paused the movie and walked out. He said, “oh my God” and I knew by where his binoculars were pointing, it was on the sand, not in the ocean.
I situated the binoculars, adjusting to see what had grabbed his attention. I scanned the general landscape in front of our balcony. I saw a man’s feet. Two women and a lifeguard huddled around him, one performing CPR. I think I said “Oh, no” over and over in my head. I continued to look around. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, maybe additional help, to see if everyone was having the same “oh no” reaction I was having.
I saw another lifeguard running towards the scene, and people were curiously walking closer to the man’s huddle. The CPR continued. It was then I noticed a young, appearing teen-aged, girl roaming aimlessly holding her stomach. I knew at that moment, the gentleman must have belonged to her. I had not seen him, so I wasn’t sure if it was a brother, dad, or grandpa-type. Just then, a lady in a black bathing suit and braided blonde hair, stranger I gathered, walked over to her and embraced her. A young man around the girl’s age and a mother-figure with the same chestnut hair color walked close by the huddle. By now, the huddle has grown, more people have started cpr. Lifeguard beach rescue shows up on their four-wheelers. The crowds get bigger. Now we see the manual resuscitator being added to the cpr. I notice the man is older, probably dad-aged to the young girl.
Police trucks come down the sandy public access. People on the beach are moving umbrellas and making way for the vehicles. Aside from the tragic events in the huddle, it was incredible to see strangers working together to clear paths for the police trucks. Out of the left side of my binoculars, the young girl comes back into my view, running this time. I can see the terror and desperation on her face. She screams at the police trucks, voice shaking, “Please, can someone help my dad?” Boom. The tears start falling, and I’m wiping my face. Her voice. Her sweet, scared voice.
The police show up with a few guys in clothes mimicking detectives, I’ve seen a few shows in my day. They come out putting on masks, handing out masks. After all, it is 2020, and the pandemic is among us. I had forgotten for just a moment. Then I thought back to the samaritans giving cpr, mouth-to-mouth, no mask. I got choked up again. People are good, they didn’t think about themselves during this time, only about saving this man.
EMS shows up, after what seems like an eternity, but was really only minutes later. Two people jump out to bring a stretcher down. It’s slow going, running in the dry sand is slowing them down. Four beach-goers run over and grab the sides of the stretcher. They lift it slightly and their speed is instantly increased. A group of strangers from a blue tent a few down from the huddle, start waving their arms, as if to signal them toward the man.
Police have now made the huddle smaller, only medical personnel at this point. But the crowds are still accumulating, just at a safer distance. I begin to notice all of the men on their knees. Another tear-jerker. I start crying again. Like in sports, which I played a few growing up, they were taking a knee for the hurt.
Now, for you to picture. We have a small huddle around the man with only medical staff. The police are guarding his huddle from the anxious crowds. The beach umbrellas and tents are all displaced to give everyone as much room as possible to work. Men are kneeling in groups to show respect for the man down. Mothers all over the beach have created a support circle around the young girl and a young man, embracing them, calming them, stroking their heads, like mothers do.
I scan the beach watching it all, taking it in. I see a women, running down the condominium’s beach access. She runs out to the sand, gets close to the support circle of mothers. She embraces the young girl. The young girl turns to the huddle and appears to be explaining. The woman collapses to her knees, like a wife might. Of course assuming, but I think I have pieced their family together from the crowd. A man, a wife, a daughter, and two close family members.
The medical staff is now using a defibrillator. Because my medical degree comes from watching every episode of Grey’s Anatomy, I never realized in the real world, how violent saving someone was. The constant chest compressions, the defibrillator. It was all new to me, outside of a television show.
The fire and rescue truck backs closer to the gentleman. He is loaded onto the truck and driven to the ambulance. There he is loaded into the ambulance. There was very little urgency. That was a bad sign to me. I kept wanting to yell out, to “hurry”. But, I did not. The realistic side settled in, and knew there was a reason the urgency had left. The ambulance stayed for what felt like, and was close to, an hour. And when they finally pulled off, there were no sirens.
I never received closure on what happened. Rumors floating around among the residents were ranging from drowning to heart attack, to one said he was teaching his daughter how to dive and hit his head. A police officer said, “I believe he didn’t make it”. Still left me hopeful for that sweet and scared voice that was still playing in my head. Her face will forever be ingrained in my deepest thoughts.
Today, I’m looking out of my balcony. The beach feels somber today, and the ocean feels dangerous. I know it’s my experience yesterday that has created those feelings. However, the spot where the huddle happened yesterday, the place where this gentleman fought for his life, well, it’s empty. No one has put their tent in “his spot”. Leaves me to believe, many whom witnessed the tragic event, are grieving today for their own experiences and even more so for the family.
To the family, I share this to work through what was traumatic to me as a spectator. I share this to create some unity to those who witnessed what we did. I share this to expose how great human beings really are when they work together. I share this to comfort you in knowing, my family cheered for you and your family, we continue to pray for you and your family. You will always be a part of me. Maybe that’s what happens the first time you experience a life or death situation, especially one where I do not know the outcome. All my love.
Side note: My recollections may be skewed with emotion and assumptions, but I still wanted to share. Hug your loved ones tighter today.
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