LeeJean Heller - Lights for Life, Sirens for Suffering

A cross the porch and off the edge, hit one step and trot to the sidewalk. Now I run, no more hazards to negotiate. I run one block, almost two.

The fire station. I run around it to the side door. While I negotiate the corner, my right hand reaches into my pocket for the key. My left hand slams the wall next to the door stopping my momentum, while my right inserts the key into its space. Now my left hand grabs the handle and Im inside the dark building, the first one here.

My left arm extends to hit the lights while I headed that way round the medic. Nothing along this side, nothing leaning against the back. I unplug the medic from the electrical charger on the drivers side and open the drivers door. I climb in behind the steering wheel and look around before turning the key. Everything is in place.

Headlights swing into the parking lot as I reach for the radio. Dispatch repeats the call and gives us the address. I will remember it. I grab the dumb book between the seats and flip through the city maps, finding the section that holds the address. Another set of headlights swings into the parking lot. I see that the address is a duplex. We will have to make sure we get the right door.

The side door opens and two men run in. The one with hair lifting straight up from his ear gets into the passenger seat next to me. The other man jumps into the back. He has a baseball cap over his matted hair.

I hit the button for the garage door to open and start the medic. I flip a switch and red lights begin circulating. I will delay the siren until we are on the road. The people who live across the street may be able to sleep. I drive out of the station and hit the button for the door to close. I turn left. The siren starts winding up to full pitch, wrecking the quiet of night as we head into darkness.

My name is Lee Jean Jordan. I live in a small Ohio town, just southwest of a larger city, next to an interstate leading south to a major Ohio city. This is where I was raised and where I live. This is where I experience the world, my life, and the universeall in this little town.

I was born in a city just north of here but grew up on these narrow streets, watched the downtown houses get older as the city expanded south toward the new mall. I have seen economic good times in this city and I have seen downturns. I watched as our young went to the Vietnam War, and the scars on those who returned. I have seen year after year as children become adults. After graduating from high school, some leave for college, some take up jobs in the area, some just leave for good and others return. For the most part, this town that became a city along the way, continues on in its own life, resisting the suburbanizing of its edges. The city with its citizens, but is born again as new life enters into its borders, revitalizing and giving new energy to the city.

And I am an ordinary person in this city. I work full time at a regular job, just like everyone else. I go home to a small house, just like everyone else. I dont see my life as any different from everyone elses. But all of us do live different lives. These lives seem ordinary to us because we are the only ones that live them. And life brings each of us different circumstances, different challenges, and different tragedies.

This book emerges from my desire to share my story, my memories, and my thoughts with others. As I explore my pain and my joy, I hope someone will understand, possibly relate, and be comforted in some way or at least see life in a new perspective.

But beyond my own life, this book concerns the pain I witness when I volunteer as a medic in our city. This extra job brings me into contact with many people, some I even know, in their times of crisis. I see them at their most needy times. Volunteering for medic has brought me into direct contact with death. I have seen how fragile our lives are, how quickly we can lose our loved ones.

I never really had any intention of becoming a medic. All the blood and danger was never attractive to me. But I am a caring person, and it is difficult for me to watch others in pain without helping in some way. And so I volunteer as a medic in my little city to help those who find themselves in distressing situations.

I remember one time as a young mom playing softball, I had played all through school but was so excited to be able to be on the field again. I was playing in left field where I couldnt really mess up too badly for the team. We were practicing near the high school and the batter hit a high fly between right and center fields. The two other fielders ran toward the end of the balls arch. They both jumped high for the ball at the same exact time, colliding in mid-air. I heard a loud sound like a paper bag popping. They both flopped back to the ground, unconscious. I just stood there dumbfounded. It felt eerie. The ball rested between their crumpled bodies. Blood puddled on their faces and soaked through their clothing.

I ran over to my two friends and just stood above them. I had no idea what to do. I felt utterly useless. My coach Moe yelled at me to run to a nearby house and get an ambulance. I ran as fast as my adrenaline could move my legs and force my lungs to suck in air. No one was home when I knocked at the first house. No one at the second house. I saw people inside the third house at their kitchen table and I just ran into their house and told them I need to call an ambulance for my friends who were hurt. The people pointed to their wall phone and just kept eating.

After completing the call, I ran back to the field across the road. A crowd had gathered where they lay. As I approached them I could hear distant sirens. Quickly, I pushed my way through the crowd until I could see my friends. Jackies head was bleeding on top and blood was pumping out of her nose. Carol didnt look much better. Her eyes were closed too but her face was all bloody. The ambulance drove across the ball park and the crowd parted for two men and a stretcher. I continued to watch helplessly as strangers worked on my friends. I thought how helpful I would be if I had some of their skills. Instead of just running around the neighborhood for help, I could actually do something.

Another time, years later, I was waiting at a railroad crossing as a long train slowly built up speed. As I sat in my car I looked over at the paper mill where a semitruck was backing up to a loading dock. The driver had his head out the window, watching the dock man directing him back. As I watched, the other side of the trucks cab caught the telephone pole. The truck jerked violently. The driver hit his head on the window, knocking him out. The dock man continued motioning the driver backward, unaware of the accident. I hollered out my window that the driver was injured. The dock man yelled at the driver and jumped off the dock to see what was going on. As he landed, he crumpled to the ground holding his knee and screaming. He continued to hold his knee and rolled in agony.

Just then I noticed the train had cleared and the cars were going across the tracks so I drove on. When I got home I called 911 and told them what I had seen a few blocks away. I felt so frustrated, again, that I had no clue what to do to help people getting hurt around me. And so I decided to be a medic. I completed my training years later and started volunteering on the fire department a couple of times a week.

My life has never been the same. Not only have I seen many injured and sick people through the years, their distress and their pain, I have also experienced my own pain and devastation. Two divorces, my best friends suicide, my mothers death, and my son and his girlfriend dying accidentally. Life has given me my share of grief. My heart hurts often. Yet I survive because life also gives me joy and love.