I woke up abruptly about an hour ago when I heard the sound of someone crying - no, keening - outside my window. I looked out and saw a man stumbling up the street in front of the house. As I’m thinking, “Oh, jeez, I’m not going to have to get up and put some clothes on, am I?” (I’m a sensitive, Good Samaritan type, you can tell), he collapsed on the sidewalk crying and moaning. I threw some clothes on and hurried out, grabbing my cellphone on the way. When I saw him up close, I realized his hands and arms were covered in blood, so I called 911. He kept saying, “Help me” until he realized I was on the phone to them, and then he switched to, “Don’t turn me in.” I told him I was getting help, but he stood up, pointed dramatically at me, and stumbled back down the street to the neighbor’s driveway, where he sat on the bumper of the neighbor’s truck until the police arrived a minute or so later.
We had two police cars, one fire truck (our paramedics ride in the fire trucks nowadays, I believe), and an ambulance within about fifteen minutes. I went back out to see if they needed to talk to me (and to look for my newspaper) about half an hour in, after they’d gotten him into the ambulance. The first police officer asked me if the man had told me how he got hurt, but he hadn’t. I pointed out the spot on the sidewalk where I’d originally found him, the firefighters washed the blood off the neighbor’s truck, and everyone went on their way. I had to wash the blood off my part of the sidewalk myself.
I was up late last night, but somehow I’m not all that sleepy now.
If it were a movie, I’d get to find out what happened. My curiosity makes me hope there’ll be something on the news about it, but this is more likely one of those relatively minor incidents that never get to the paper. It’s actually better if it doesn’t, because that will mean no one was seriously hurt.
The guy was lying on the curb when I got to him. There was something about him that made me immediately made me wonder whose blood, exactly, was on him, so I stayed on my side of the front-yard fence while I called 911. He was asking for help, but as soon as he realized I was calling, he didn’t want me to tell the operator anything, and he wouldn’t answer questions. He had blood all over his hands and arms and down the front of his shirt, and there was a cut on his chin. The officer asked me if he’d told me “how he got hurt,” so I’m assuming he had injuries, but that’s about it.
I used to live in a neighborhood where something like this wouldn’t have been all that unusual, but I’m not accustomed to calling the cops anymore!
That’s sweet, EmilyG, but in this case it was more “calling the cops because there’s a bloody guy on my sidewalk” than “helping.” He didn’t seem particularly thrilled.
When a somewhat (in the loose sense of the word) similar thing happened to me, I was told that “victim services” had to call me to see if I was ok. I was fine actually, but they apparently had to call me. When they called I said I’d like to know how he was. I was told by a doctor I saved his life and he would make a full recovery, which was a comforting thought. I could probably have asked who shot him too, but I didn’t really care at the time.
So… maybe there is something similar for you? A service for people who are involved in accidents in some way?
That’s amazing, gracer! I’ve never heard of anything like that here. As a matter of fact, no one even took my name, although I was in my front yard and used my phone to call. I suppose if the police needed more information, they’d know how to reach me, but I was essentially a bystander.
The guy was pretty bloody, and he seemed pretty disoriented, but he didn’t look or act like he was in immediate danger of death. If I’d ignored him, one of our early morning walkers would probably have been along in time to call for help. But, hey, yeah, I didn’t post (or take) video!
