Chapter Twelve in “Decades with the Squad,” by my late father, William Palmer Jervey, Jr.

An evident factor in this tragic episode is the emotional burden placed upon the rescuer when you must tend a patient who is somehow close to you. In this instance said burden was quite weighty due to the long-standing and close personal contact between myself, the victim, and his family.

The situation was like being caught in a tornado. No time for plans or rehearsal, only an urgent demand for immediate action.

Another factor here, oddly enough, is the fact that I did not recognize the deceased even though I knew him well in life. In my years in the squad, I have picked up a lot of dead people. Unhappily, quite a few have been people I knew. I believe you recognize people by mannerisms, gestures, and expressions. When they die all these factors are lost, and when found in unusual circumstances, the basic structure of the face is sometimes not enough.

In this instance, a young man I had known since his birth died in a diving accident. The victim of grievous miscalculation. He was still in the water and obviously beyond earthly aid when I reached his side. I had to ask a bystander who he was, even though his face was not injured. The knowledge came as a shock, as the family of the deceased and mine have been close friends and neighbors for generations. Instinctively and inexplicably, I didn’t want to leave him. I knew he was dead though I am not authorized to make official pronouncements. I knew his wife and parents must be notified, and if not told by me would soon hear by the grapevine, as they lived close by. In my dilemma, I enlisted to aid of one who may be described as Stalwart Neighbor, to fetch the family to the scene and I would break the news. This he did and I shall forever be grateful to him.

When the family arrived, consisting of his six-months-pregnant wife, his mother and his father, I said, “I am sorry but I can find no sign of life.”

As you may imagine, the scene dissolved into a most heartbreaking interlude. All parties were calm after an outburst of grief. His wife settled into a stoic silence and his parents’ main concern was for his wife and the little one she carried.

I pondered much on this episode in the months following and wondered often if it could have been handled better. Most certainly I was ably supported by loyal squad members. However, since I was the first member at the scene and also the oldest in age and length of service, I felt responsible for all that was done and all that was omitted.  After a year I met with the family of the deceased and gave voice to these thoughts and concerns. I hoped that if anything that was done or not done had added to their woe, they would forgive me. They assured me that forgiveness was not necessary, thank me for what I did and were glad that I was there. A few more tears were shed and we parted friends.

These people are truly worthy and admirable neighbors!

The little one is now a lovely young lady and the apple of her family’s eye.