We were in position, watching, waiting. We didn’t know what was about to happen but we were prepared, we always were. Our orders never varied, always present at major or minor catastrophes it was our job to do recovery work. We were the first responders. It was our singular responsibility to serve mankind. In contrast, our counterparts munching on snacks, were across from us in gleeful anticipation of whatever upcoming event we were here for.
While we were surveying the rush hour traffic make it’s way across the bridge and conjecturing what our assignment would end up being, we felt the earth move, it was barely perceptible but it did move. We waited a few more seconds on full alert now, in fight or flight mode. There it was or rather wasn’t. The bridge we had been studying collapsed, metal beams cracking, cement splashing into the river, cars rolling down and vanishing into the foaming liquid, other cars spiraling down to the embankment below piling up on top of each other, upside down and side ways being transformed from shiny metal to unrecognizable salvage heaps. The preceding sounds were ghastly, cars honking, alarm systems blaring, people screaming, debris flying. Blood pouring. Cement dust and mud covering everything. Our counterparts jumping up and down gratified, they were loving it!
People surfacing on the river looked about in shock. Some caught sight of us immediately and gasped as we waved them over, other people, blind to us, swam to the shore, pulling loved ones with them. A dog had his teeth on the bottom of a toddlers training pants pulling the sputtering child to safety. I praised the canine for his devotion and he almost barked at me in response before he realized he’d loose his mouthful. I gently encouraged him in his good deed willing him the strength to succeed. A man reached down, grabbing the tot and hugging his furry pet. One of the man’s arms dangled oddly at his side, apparently relief over the recovery of his son wiped out the sensation of pain. Relief and love are better than morphine! I bet that dog was going to get the best cut of meat from the dinner table from hence forth! He’d probably even be buried in the family plot!
I dove into the murky water searching for more survivors, finding some souls by a severely demolished van trying to get the lifeless bodies inside free. I motioned for them to follow me up. They were in total denial not willing to leave the bodies behind but they eventually realized the situation was in vain and did as I directed them, meeting up with my friends and the other survivors on the banks above. Air bubbles were coming up from a jeep deeper down, diving to it I cracked the window and waited till the last denizen floated up and was seized by other survivors.
I was pulled toward an upside down Toyota, occupied by a woman and her daughter, by the mother’s earnest cries to God. Mom was frantically trying to open the door unsuccessfully, I could feel her overwhelming panic. With barely a touch to the handle, I opened the door and watched as the two jetted to the surface hand in hand where they were aided to land. New help had arrived with medical equipment and treated her cuts and abrasions, checked her daughter over and went on to the other injured. Triaging the injured. Eight bodies were being lined up and covered, there was no earthly help available to them. Those I had propelled to my group held each others hands staring at the dead in amazement, conscious of their good fortune. Our counterparts jeered, hurling rocks and sticks our way but not venturing close.
A school bus crammed with crying kids was precariously positioned on the edge of the broken overpass. Our counterparts were gleefully waiting for it to topple fifty feet down to the bridges remaining skeletal frame where the occupants would be dashed into pieces. They thrived on misery and chaos. Summoning several of my colleagues to assist me, we grabbed the rear bumper and held on for dear life as the bus driver briskly evacuated his passengers, with the help of everyday heroes while the odious onlookers cursed the rescue of the blameless kids. Not a single middle school-er was lost or injured. Not one cut or scratch. Now that’s a miracle! Plus they would have a good excuse for not having their homework done tomorrow. There is always a silver lining if you look for it!
My team had done all we could do for now so we stood back to let our co-workers, the paramedics, do their job. They were skilled in their profession, working without emotion, distancing themselves from the upheaval this disaster had created in the lives of so many innocent citizens. Without that detachment they would be useless. Calm experienced objectivity was a necessity for them to perform well.
Eventually we wandered about looking for more survivors. Displaced souls, kneeling by lifeless bodies and looking about in confusion were relieved to see us and accept our invitation to join the group we had collected. Then we heard the now expected. After years of doing this vocation we would never get used to this aspect of it. The accusations, the blaming, the anger. All directed upwards. To God. Why did he let this happen? Where was he? What was his problem? The evil cohorts who were opposed to our intercessions, mingled with the walking wounded and encouraged them to blaspheme God, whispering more fabrications about his faithfulness into their ears. These accusations in turn escaped bleeding lips in strings of profanities, that reached the heavenly throne, causing pain. Yes God has feelings! I clutched one woman staggering about, hands covering her ears from the hideous cries around her, and tried to reason with her, attempting very earnestly to get her attention but, my words went right through her as she looked past me, as though I wasn’t there. I hoped however I had planted a seed that would take root once she recovered from shock.
Helicopters hovered overhead, broadcasting the disaster on life T.V. Spectators gathered on nearby overpasses. Some offered welcome help, prayers. Others were just voyeurs like the ancient Romans at the coliseum, drawn by the smell of blood. Vehicles sped to the scene, stopping blocks away. Parents raced up to the wreckage looking for their children who rushed to meet them. There was much rejoicing, hugging, joyful crying and God praising. However I knew if the circumstance had been less than desirable for these parents different words would be pouring from their mouths. It’s true, sweet and bitter words come from the same mouth, but not the same hearts.
As every thing started to settle down, I rallied our eight survivors. They were hanging back, eyeing the eight bodies that were being covered with tarps, unable to find tears to shed. Granted, eight wasn’t very many considering the huge volume traveling over the bridge this afternoon. I looked at the others on the shoreline and in the ambulances, who had benefited from our help; hundreds. Dozens of school children, rush hour commuters, perplexed pets scuttling around refusing the help of strangers, looking for their human family- and finding them! Bandages were applied to arms, heads, legs. Faces scratched. Not bad, only eight. And the hurt asked where was God? He was on his throne commanding his army. He had issued orders for us to lend a hand, and a few wings, which we did in our usual manner, quickly and without question. When he said jump, we jumped. No need to ask questions. Just eight? Only eight? Eight very lucky souls would be accompanying us home, their home, prepared years ago. Not bad for a days job.
Why did this happen? The present world is as full of misfortunes as it has been since Adam and Eve disappointed God and their unborn family. God has nothing to do with every disaster that befalls man. The fallen and frail nature of humanity is to blame. But God is responsible for us First Responders, and he uses us wisely and fairly. The eight that we are bringing home with us today have no complaints. A few of us will linger behind to comfort their families. Our wicked counterparts scattered back to hide under their rocks with their close relatives, the snakes, and sulk. This wasn’t the ending they had hoped for. Our survivor count of eight disappointed them tremendously since they had netted no trophies. No souls would be tortured by them as a result of this particular calamity. Praise be to God, now and forever. Our eight survivors and my team ascended upward towards the light, pain free and elated.
