Calling 911

One of my favorite lines from the movie Little Rascals is when Buckwheat asks, “Quick! What’s the number for 911?”  Not so funny when you really need it.

On my bike ride home from the pool today, I came upon a car accident of someone I knew.  I stopped to see if everything was OK, and it seemed to be.  I made a phone call to offer help to the family, but they didn’t need me.  I decided I wouldn’t be much help on my bicycle anyways, so I rode on.

But that was a crucial 4-minute delay.

I hadn’t even gone half a mile when these kids on the sidewalk started shouting at me, “Hey can you stop? Can you help this kid? Can you call for help?”  I pulled over really fast to see a young guy on the ground with a gaping wound on his leg, and his bike lying on the ground near him.  His two ‘friends’ who were yelling at me had their bikes in hand and were walking away as they called me.  I asked, “Did you call for help?”  They shouted, “No, not yet!”  I said, “Where are you going?”  They answered, “We gotta get home, so we won’t be grounded.”  Jerks.  But I didn’t say that out loud.

So I turned to the kid on the ground, who was in a lot of pain and definitely couldn’t walk anywhere.  “Did you call your mom or dad yet?” “No.” “Here, call them,” and I handed him his phone that was lying on the ground.  So he called his grandma, and I called 911.  By this time, two cars had stopped – one lady and her daughter had been driving by and the daughter saw what happened.  He had been riding on the sidewalk and ran into a sign pole.  The mom said it sounded like cars hitting each other, and by the look of the wound I knew it was a pretty hard collision.  The other lady who stopped was a nurse, so she was tending to the would a little bit while I was on the phone.

Let me say that I am unimpressed with 911 response.  The phone rang for a long time, and I honestly wondered if I had dialed the wrong number!  “What’s the number for 911…”  Finally a lady anwered, “911, what is your emergency?”  I felt proud of myself because I clearly gave the location of the accident and a description of the wound.  She asked for the phone number I was using to call from, and asked me if I needed paramedics.  YES.  So she said, “Alright, let me transfer you to the fire department.”  Oh thanks.  So the fire department guy answered the phone and asked what the emergency was.  Again, I gave location and wound description.  Then, questions. “How old is he?” (“How old are you?” “14”) “What side of the freeway are you on?” (which I had already said) “Is he conscious?” (I just asked him a question and he answered me, hello) “What phone number are you calling from? Does he need paramedics? Are you in Ventura?” (Um, HOW many times have I told you where we are?)  He gave me some instructions about not moving the guy or giving him food and water.  It was windy outside and with traffic too I could barely hear him and he had to repeat himself a few times.  When I finally got off the phone, the nurse said, “Wow, I’ve never heard 911 give anyone the third degree like that!”  No kidding.

A fire truck came, and they started bandaging his leg.  His hands were shaking, and I can imagine he was in terrible pain.  The other people left in their cars, and one fireman asked him his name (Kyle), and questions about his parents, his birthday, phone number, and was filling in a form on his clipboard.  He asked him other questions too, to make sure the kid was conscious.  (He wasn’t wearing a helmet, so there was the possibility of head trauma, but thankfully he was ok in that respect.)  An ambulance came with a gurney, and a policeman showed up.  He took care of Kyle’s bike while he went away in the ambulance.

And I rode home.

At my missionary commissioning service this summer we sang a song called “Order My Steps,” asking God to do just that in our lives.  I can’t help but think that God was ordering my steps today.  I got out of the pool just a few minutes later than usual… I came up to the accident just a minute after it happened… I stopped just long enough at the car accident so that I got to the kid right after his accident happened and right as his ‘friends’ were leaving him…

God orders our steps.

To me, this timing was so obvious.  But what about times it’s not so obvious?  Or when we chalk things up to “coincidence” and shrug it off as luck or a chance happening.  Let’s keep our eyes open even in the small things to see God’s hand at work.

And if you ever have a friend who needs help, don’t leave their side.  Maybe it’s not a physical wound, or something that requires a 911 call.  But our friends need us in their emergencies and crises – where are we?  Don’t be the kids running off so they won’t get grounded.  No, it won’t always be convenient for us… but in the long run?  I wonder what Kyle will have to say to those punks the next time he sees them.  Relationship is more important.

I don’t know what to say.  That’s my story.