Chapter 5 Tow Truck

Chapter 5 Tow Truck



"It has to be one of your people" I hear Chris say over the headset.


I can't help but smile at that. There are 2 bars within 5 miles of each other on this stretch of Interstate that cater to completely different sets of clientele. Time of day and mile marker are good indications of which patrons you might be assisting on any given night.

"Breakfast, says it isn't" I tell him. In the glow of the cab, I can see him smile and shake his head, never taking his eyes off the road. At 6' 4" in his turnout gear Chris is an imposing figure. He carries himself with the bearing of an experienced firefighter and has calm, steady manner that brings structure to the most chaotic of situations. Outside of the firehouse his 6' 4" frame looks lanky in the button down shirts and slacks. With a receding hairline and his silver reading glasses, he has a the look of a professor or lawyer. With his graduate degree in finance he should have been working his way up a corporate ladder somewhere. He is Clark Kent, a dorky Clark Kent who is hands down the bravest firefighter that I know. He also is the only male I know who can wear a bowtie and make it work.

Traffic on the Interstate is now slowing to a stop. A state patrolman waves the engine through and we see a traffic accident that is blocking both lanes of traffic.

Engine 3 arrival"Engine 3 arrival, one car accident with heavy damage, this will be 249 command"

I say providing our initial arrival report to the dispatcher. Chris is already outside setting up the portable lights and staging tools we may need. I step out of the engine and he hands me a portable box light without saying a word. I always appreciate not having to ask for the things I need here so I can focus on the larger picture.

As we walk towards the accident, there is a handful of people standing around a car that is on its roof. No one is bent down looking into the car or calling out information to us. That usually means the driver is among those standing or he is still inside the car itself. As we get closer, people are pointing down into the car, not looking down themselves, and stepping away.

The driver was partially ejected into the guardrail and is heavily pinned in the car itself. His injuries are traumatic and extensive, it is clear this is a fatality. Chris is already herding the bystanders to a safe spot close to the state patrolman.

"Check the car and do a quick walk round" I tell Chris

I reach down to see if there is a carotid pulse and find none. We need to find out how many people were in the car or were involved. He is already on his hands and knee's shining a box light into the car.

"I got nothing" he says and I look down at the driver again

Trying to describe extensive injuries and give them the appropriate weight is impossible to do. They are stark and raw in a way that is that is hard to articulate. You don't gain any additional insight or depth of character from seeing things like this. Early in my career I thought seeing these things was a right of passage. Now I think is is part of the job that is given far too much attention. Like a lot of firefighters I have become practiced in looking beyond what I see and focus on the immediate tasks at hand.

"249 Command, shutdown all incoming engines to non emergent, continue the ambulance emergent"

We have a code black, an obvious death but I cannot make this pronouncement, it has to done by paramedics. I get on a tactical radio channel to give update to the ambulance so they can start the corner to the location.

Chris is pointing at the yellow lights that are down by the State Patrol car. "Tow truck is here" I can see the patrolman leaning into the tow truck and he points down where I am standing. As he gets closer I point to a spot on the shoulder just ahead of the accident.

The tow truck driver is walking towards me. 40 years old and on the heavy side, he looks like he just rolled out of bed. Despite the cold, he is only wearing a t-shirt and overalls. He is pulling his ball cap out of his back pocket and bending the brim with his hands when he walks up.

"Sit tight for now, we have to wait for the coroner and figure out the best way to get the driver out" We are getting him covered up, so give us a minute, you don't want to see this"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, he is walking around the car to look.

"There is not much that bother's me anymore" he saying looking down.

As I look at his response to what he is seeing, I think he has in found at least one more thing that bothers him. He starts to say something but his voice trails off and he looks over at me. To make matters worse, as much as it has affected him he feels compelled to stand there for another couple of minutes so we understand he is not affected by this.

Chris is leaning on the car from the other side and he is rolling his eyes. It seems like tragedy loves the company of stupidity. They always seem to follow each other and tonight they are hanging out again After a painful, uncomfortable minute he says "Let me know, I will be in my truck" and walks back to the tow truck.

The second engine is still 10 minutes away. We have checked for gas leaks and but we need to turn the car off and take the keys out of the ignition. The car is on its top and the driver and part of the car are melded into the guard rail. I see Chris looking at the car and we both know the keys have to come out of the ignition. One of us will have to crawl in the passenger window, maneuver around the body and turn the car off. The car is not running but the lights, radio, and electrical system are all on. While they are on this poses a risk to incoming crews that we have to address.

Crawling into a car with a body is a nerve racking under the best of circumstances. At 02:00 AM in the morning it is worse because there is very little light in the car itself and we are not going to get much light in there. There is no real room for a flashlight or to wear a helmet with a light on it.

We are both looking at the passenger door trying to figure out the fastest way to get in there to get the keys. Neither one of us wants to be the one who has to get the keys and both of us will offer to get the keys.

Under normal circumstances, this can be very straight forward. Lowest ranking person who will not have an issue with doing this would be directed to get the keys. On paper I outrank Chris. Out on I25 at 02:00 AM, I do not outrank him. We have almost the same years of service and level of experience. Most importantly we have a deep abiding trust in each other and our crews. Outside of the station, we are friends who ride together, drink together, and hang out together. Tonight that is bad news because normally I would have a pass on things like this.

We turn our backs to the State Patrolman and the on lookers. I extend my outstretched palm with a fist on it.

"One out of one" I tell him and he nods. Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"Scissors cut paper" he says holding his scissor fingers in front of my face. He laughs at me and offers to get the keys from the car. Boy, I would love to take him up on this offer but I can’t. I appreciate that he is like this, he would crawl in the car without any complaint.

We walk back over to the car. Without asking he grabs a box light and follows me over to the car. I get down on my hands and knees and glance in the car. I see the outline of the driver and know enough to not shine a light directly into the car where I would end up seeing more that I need to.
Everyone is a little claustrophobic. Crawling into a car with a body will make anyone claustrophobic. I start crawling into the passenger side through the broken out window. Careful to stay focused on the ignition and the key; I start to slide into the car. It is only a matter of six feet or so but because I cannot turn around or move it feels like a longer more confined space than it really is.

I am at the steering wheel and I take a deep breath as I push his torso over to get to the key out of the ignition. He is so cold already and it takes a conscious effort to not pull back. As I reach around him his arm falls on to my back. I have to fight off momentary panic, I can’t pull his arm off without re-positioning myself and I just have to leave the arm there. I can turn the key off but I can’t find the button to pull the key out of the ignition. After a couple of attempts to remove the key, I start to think of the tow truck driver and realize there really is no real reason to struggle to try to get the key. It is time to get out of the car.

I slide back out of the car in a measured, deliberate way and find myself on my back looking up at Chris looking down at me.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" I say as he is reaching down to pull me up to a standing position. He has been in this exact position and knows how it is but he cannot resist calling me out on it.

"Pussy" he says smiling

We walk back to the engine to wait for the coroner and try to get warm again and discuss how to remove the driver. It would be quick to pull or slide the car away from the guard rail and pop the door. That is quickly ruled out as we can't do it without creating more damage to the drive than the accident caused. It matters to each of us that no additional trauma is caused. For the brief time the driver is with us, he is our father, son, brother, or friend, and we treat him accordingly. Plan B is to pull the car over on it’s wheels. I wave the tow truck driver over who seems hesitant to walk towards the car. It is hard not to smile at this. Tragedy is still here on the Interstate but Stupidity has left the building. I explain to him quickly that we need to flip the car onto its wheels. He says he can do it and gets set up to do this.

I recognize the white van of the coroner. Every time I see her she causes me to pause. She has a disarming sense of humor and always seems to be dressed exceptionally well despite the hour or circumstance. She is quick and methodical and is walking over to the engine to let us know that she is ready to take him. We need to remove him from the car.

We have all of the tools ready to go and the tow truck driver is sitting in his truck waiting for us to tell him what is needed. The clock has started; we are ready to get him out as quickly as possible. State Patrol has shut down the road and we are focused on the task at hand.

I always believe in worse case scenario and Murphy’s Law. If it can go wrong, it will. I envision the car being flipped over and the driver being shot across two lanes of traffic. This would happen in full view of the horrified people who are sitting in their car trying to see around the engine and the patrol car.  The driver will land at the feet of the fearless tow truck driver who will clutch his chest and collapse of a massive heart attack. The quiet of the night only broken up only by the rhythmic whop, whop, whop of the news helicopter overhead, with our FIRE DEPARTMENT logo and our last names clearly visible on the morning news show.

The tow truck driver has the car hooked up and whistles that he is ready and is waving tentative thumbs up at me. I go over the plan with Chris and tell the coroner we will have him in a couple of minutes. She smiles, adjusts the bag on the gurney and stands (looking really good in a pinstriped pants suit) ready. I point to him, give him thumbs up and close one eye.

Mercifully the car lands on all 4 wheels with a whump and the driver slides over in the seat invisible to everyone. We have the spreaders and pop the driver’s door off the hinges. Chris pushes him up into a sitting position and within a minute we are able to move the dashboard up enough to free him. I turn to the coroner who is waiting with the gurney. She wheels this up and lowers it to the height of the seat the driver is sitting on. He slides off easily and we have him in the white bad in no time. Zipped up, she wheels him over into the white vans and closes the door. Five maybe six minutes to get him out, not bad at all.

The tow truck driver is backing up the truck to load up the car. He seems quiet and focused on getting the car on his truck and getting the hell out there as quickly as he can. From here it does not look like he is clutching his heart.

The people in the cars waiting are looking tired and bored but starting to stir because the road is going to open in a couple of minutes.

The coroner is gone with the kid in the back of her van.

I poke a gloved finger at Chris "You owe me breakfast"