Let me tell you what they want!

May 15, 2008

posted by Shelley

After reading Perry’s last post about the Tennessee 911 call, it refreshed my memory of what happened to us just the other night. I posted about the business meeting we had at Scott’s on Monday night, but didn’t post anything about the ride home. Fear not, intrepid reader. Here are the details…

We were driving home late, but Perry and I were both good — we opted for coffee and tea and passed on partaking of even one margarita. We DID bring a gallon of the stuff home packed safely in the trunk as to not violate the ‘open container law’, not even thinking we might be perceived as bootleggers in transport. I was tired; Perry was driving with Garman by his side. I’m texting Ben back and forth, keeping my eyes focused on the screen of my trusty iPhone when Perry yells something about a wreck happening in front of us.

I look up in time to see a car spinning toward the guardrail on the east side of southbound I-465. It had crossed lanes of traffic and had already begun to point the wrong direction. First was a very hard hit, and then the car proceeded down the highway backwards, and slammed into a now barely moving FedEx semi trailer. The car came to rest with its nose heading north, and the driver’s door wedged against the guardrail. Perry stops a safe distance behind the accident, and as he is waiting for traffic to pass so he can open his door — I run to the car to see if there’s anything I can do…see if anyone is hurt.

I see an unconscious woman, head back, arms extended out from her body with palms up. I remember her skin was pasty white and her hair coal black. I try to get in the passenger door and find it is locked. There’s no room on the driver’s side. As I dial 911, her head slips from the car’s headrest and tilts back. Perry is there now and wonders if she’s dead. There is zero blood. The FedEx driver is already on his cell phone too. I ask if he’s ok, he nods. I then ask if he’s also calling 911, and he tells me no — he’s on the phone with his company. Whaaaaa?

Now that the scene is set — let me tell you that I first speak with what I understood to be an emergency operator. I can hear her just fine and tell her where we are only by what I know — we are on I-465 southbound and can see exits 48A and 48B. There is an unresponsive woman trapped in her car. I need an ambulance and the police. I am told to hold, I need to connect with the fire department. I thought I heard them come on the line, but seriously — you can’t hear well when cars and trucks are zipping along right beside you, and there’s more than one party on the same line. I ask if anyone can hear me, but don’t hear a response. I ask again and someone says that they can hear me. I retell my story complete with a repeat of the directions. I’m told they are on the way. I remember banging on the side window trying to wake the young woman when I saw her stir just slightly.

Time passes and the FedEx driver finds a windshield cleaner thing on a long stick and pokes it through the broken back windshield. He skillfully unlocks the back door and we can get in. We didn’t want to move the young woman, but tried to get her to wake up enough to talk to us. She said all she wanted to do was sleep. At this point, the three of us at the scene are thinking about how much time has already passed without help arriving — it’s already been over 15 minutes!! We talk about calling back 911.

One police car rolls on the scene a full 20 minutes after the initial call. With him are an ambulance and at least 4 fire trucks. Fireman were dressed in full gear and immediately go to work, using the jaws of life to peel the entire top of the car off the body like a sardine can. They were very efficient once they arrived — but holy cow — 20 minutes after the call?? I’m telling you, it was over 50 minutes from the time of the accident to the time the pale chick with the black hair made in on the stretcher to be transported. I don’t think that’s acceptable. You may be thinking to yourself that it just FELT like 20 minutes. Ummm…think again. I have the phone time stamps on my trusty iPhone. The call to 911 began at 10:59 PM. The call I made to my Mom the SECOND the injured driver got loaded into the ambulance BEFORE it took off was at 11:49 PM.

I think that 911 callers really want help. They want help NOW. Why didn’t the police get there earlier? The ambulance — why couldn’t it have arrived earlier? I can see how big ass fire trucks might take longer to load with men and maneuver through traffic, but the response time sucked. I do not know if the driver lived or died, but I do know she waited a very long time to get what SHE really wanted.