24 November, 2019

I Couldn't Save Him

24 November, 2019


It's been almost a year since my life changed, and not for the better.  A person who was loved by his family left this world and I was one of two people to see him at his end.  I knew from the start that I was going to have problems dealing with what had happened but dove in anyway.

A trucking company parks some tractors and trailers in our yard as a "swap lot".  Full trailers are brought in from another location, the drivers who park at our shop hook up and pull those trailers out.  The drivers who brought in the full trailers then take the empty trailer back to their location to be loaded again.  "Drop and hook" is the term used in the trucking industry.

I know the drivers who park at our shop but don't know the other drivers who bring in the loaded trailers.  It's quite routine and the whole process happens in less than an hour starting around 21:00.  There's a lot of traffic in and out of our yard which, mostly, goes by unnoticed.  5 February, 2019 changed that routine.

The usual trailer swaps had gone on and my coworker and I had just continued working on the jobs we had to get done.  At the end of the shift I went outside to get the service trucks started up in preparation for bringing them inside.  I noticed a tractor, lights on, hooked up to a trailer and had a listen.  Engine wasn't running but the lights were on.  Not normal, but not unusual either.  Sometimes tractors get parked and the driver forgets to shut off the lights.  "Christ, I had better go shut off those lights so we don't have to do a jump start later" I was thinking. 

I walked over to the rig, around to the driver's door and noticed it was slightly ajar and didn't see a driver.  I opened the door and saw the driver's foot in the door jamb, looked up and saw the driver in his seat, slumped over a little bit.  "Hey buddy."  No response.  "Hey buddy!!"  No response.  I climbed up and looked... "Oh shit..."  Even if you've never seen a person at that kind of moment, you just know.  I hauled ass into the shop and on my way to the nearest phone my coworker was in the midst of saying "What's going on..."  "Get out of the way!!" I hollered at him.  I picked up the phone and punched in 911.   I told the operator who I was, where I was at and that there was a truck driver who was unresponsive.  The operator arranged for my coworker to call them so we could be connected at the truck.  "Mitch!  Call 911 and follow me!!"  Mitch did just that and we were out at the truck, with the operator on speaker phone.

We, in a nutshell, were told to get the driver out of the truck and on the ground.  We were told to see if the driver was still warm and if there was a pulse.  Mitch, I feel for him because he had never been in this kind of situation, reached out, hesitated, then checked for a pulse.  Nothing.  The 911 operator then talked me through CPR.  Emergency teams were on the way.  I did as I was told and started doing chest compressions.  The gurgling coming from the driver has come back to haunt me many times.  I suspect it will continue to haunt me until my dying day.  I could hear sirens but "Why aren't they here yet?"

I kept doing the chest compressions as instructed and the paramedics seemed to pop up out of nowhere.  Pump, pump, pump "Do I stop now?" I asked.  Pump, pump, pump "keep going" they said as they hooked up respiratory stuff and got a backboard placed.  Pump, pump, pump "OK.  We have it." the paramedics said.  It was seamless.  I stopped compressing, they took over and then I fell onto my butt, turned around and started crying like a baby.  I don't know how long I had been crying but I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a voice saying "You gave him a chance..."  It was February and I had started to feel the cold.  Thinking back on those moments, I now know the driver was already dead.  The ambulance was in no hurry to leave the yard which tells me that driver didn't make it.  Massive heart attack from what I found out later on.

I made phone calls to the driver's dispatcher, helped the police find info in the truck and such, called my boss.  I was numb and Mitch was visibly shaken.  Mitch and I had a conversation after everyone had left.  Having been through a similar situation with my Dad, and having had to deal with break down later, I told Mitch to go home and tell his Mom, Grandma, Sister...  Just tell someone everything you had just gone through.  "If you bottle it up it will just come back later and it will be twice as bad." I told him.

Mitch has some habits that are annoying but I know I can rely on him when the shit hits the fan.  The day to day stuff is petty now that I know that he's a good person and will be there, even if the situation is dire, when he's called upon.  I have a lot of respect for Mitch now.

Not long after, I received a phone call (at the shop) from the driver's sister.  She hadn't received any straight answers regarding he brother's death.  She asked questions and I answered the questions I could.  She also asked if she could come to the shop some time.  I, of course, said "Yes.  Come after 15:00 and ask for Tim."  She came to the shop that spring.

"Tim, someone's at the front window asking for you." I heard.  I walked into the office and said "I'm Tim.  What can I help you with?"  She introduced herself as the sister of the driver who had died.  I walked outside with her so we could have some privacy.  I had talked to Mitch and said he could come along with us if he wanted and that if he chose not to he would not be looked down upon.  She asked to see the place where her brother had died and I took her around back to the yard.  I wasn't able to show her the exact spot because I hadn't been paying attention to that sort of thing on the night it happened.  I was able to only say "It's one of these parking spaces."

She asked if she could spread some Holy water (they are a Catholic family) and I told her she could do whatever she wanted.  If she wanted a memorial stuck into the ground I would see that it happened.  She asked if it was okay to hug me and I said it was.  We hugged, cried and then she gave me two laminated copies of the driver's obituary.  One for me, one for Mitch.  I told her everything that had happened that night, she thanked me for trying to save her brother and then left.  I told Mitch that if he wanted a copy of the obituary that it would be on my toolbox.  He didn't take it and I don't hold anything against him for not wanting to.  I, on the other hand, read the obituary and then knew something of the man I couldn't save.

I had planned on visiting his grave on a motorcycle trip but I didn't.  Maybe in 2020 I will.  I didn't know the guy from Adam, but I was there at the end of his life.  I did my best to save him but failed.  He was dead before I found him.  I wish that he had survived.  I wish that I had met him after the fact.  I wish that his family had only a scare and not a funeral.  Life doesn't work out like that.  Sometimes people die and families are left with holes in their hearts.  First responders have to deal with these situations on a daily basis and, sometimes, mechanics have to deal with that situation and can't fix it.

I never knew that driver.  I never said so much as "hello" to him, but he is now part of me.  In his time of dying I was there and it will haunt me until I'm gone.  I'm just glad that I was able to provide some sort of closure for his family.   

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