I just loaded a dead guy into the coroner's truck.
He had been struck square in the forehead by a branch of a tree that was being cut down. I think could not get out of the way due to the ice on the ground.

I know I've cut trees down many times, and it's easy to get complacent. The conditions were poor for tree cutting, they should have used a rope, they should have been wearing cleats, they should have...they should have.

Anyway, the point of this is that the mundane things are important to think about, every time. I can't say for sure that cleats would have allowed him to get away in time, I can't say for sure that a rope to help direct the tree would have moved it the 4" that would have made this an injury instead of a fatality, all I know is that I can think of several things that might have meant I would have never been called out this afternoon. Everyday isn't just about kits, it's about situational readiness and an appropriate level of gear for the task at hand.

Over & Out.

Sometimes nothing could have been done anyway. Sometimes, it's just one's time to go.

My one fear in life is of dying stupidly. Perhaps that is why I haven't gotten complacent about dangerous jobs, hobbies, etc. Perhaps, it just hasn't been my time to check out, yet.

I understand how you feel, even when death has claimed someone that you never knew.

It's time for some beers and de-briefing perhaps, Martin.

A terrible thing to have to do regardless of how it happened, but I agree with wildman800 it's time for a (one) beer and debrief. Some times there is nothing we can do we have to accept that fact and go home make sure our families know how much we love them and continue on and to be careful for them. One thing that I have learned after too many beers and debriefs, not for your sake but for friends and family let it go, don't forget (impossible anyway) but don't dwell on it. Just an opinion based on experience.

People are going to make mistakes, it happens. We are human, and sometimes human error costs lives. Unfortunately, this time it did. My sympathies for him, those who cared about him and you too martinfocazio. I've never had to be there for such an accident, but I been there for some serious accidents. It has not been easy to see serious injuries, and death must be harder. It's too bad all around.

As far as Martin's comments about being aware, I think they are on the money. The most important tool you have for keeping yourself alive and thriving is between your ears. Use it well, and you stand an excellent chance to live long and prosper, failing to do so you risk much.

Yeah, I agree a beer and debrief is always an option.
Most of the time, you feel like it was just an accident, or it was just "time to go".
I think it's because I know that the reason the guy was trimming trees was because he had to - unlike me, he needed to cut trees and such to make a living, and for some reason job-related fatalities just get to me more than other types of calls.
I've seen worse, I'll see worse, it's not an exceptional or unusual callcall, I know that. Some stick with you, that's all.

i believe when it's time to go, it's time to go. it was his.

we all know everything has a life. sadly, his was up.

i mourn for his family - especially at this time of year.

kind of funny how death has such an impact on us, the survivors.

who's to say he's not in a better place - whatever that is - feeling sad and sorry for us who are still here.

That kind of situation is why they call old dead trees widow makers in the logging trade. It happens.

I have posted this in the past, but thought it could not hurt to repost. Sometimes it gives perspective-

Martin - Take care brother, we have your back if you need us-

Pete


I WISH YOU COULD SEE


I wish you could know what it is like to search a burning bedroom for trapped children, flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen below you burns.

I wish you could comprehend a wife’s horror at three in the morning as I check her husband of forty years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back. Knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done to try to save his life.

I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke – sensations I’ve become too familiar with.

I wish you could understand how it feels to go to work in the morning after having spent most of the night, hot soaking wet at a multiple alarm fire. I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire. “Is this a false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?” Or to an EMS call, “What is wrong with this patient? Is it minor or life threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2X4 or a gun?”

I wish you could comprehend my feelings that the beautiful five year old girl that I’m trying to save may never go on her first date or say the words “I love you Daddy” again (all the while thinking of my own child).

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine or my personal vehicle, as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us however, your first comment upon arrival will be, “it took you forever to get here!”

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile. “What if this was my sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What was her parents reaction going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?”

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and great my parents or family, not having the heart to tell them I nearly did not come back from the last call. I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically abuse us or belittle what I do, or express their attitudes of “it will never happen to me”.

I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain or missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen. I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping save a life or preserving someone’s property, or being able to be there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos. I wish you could understand what it fells like to have a little boy tugging at your arm asking, “is Mommy okay?” Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say. Or having to hold back along time friend who watches his buddy having rescue breathing done on him as they take him away in the ambulance when you know all along he did not have his seat belt on; a sensation that I have become too familiar with. Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, who we are, or what our job really means to us….. I wish you could, though.


Author Unknown

That is why most LEO's that I know have developed a rather morbid sense of humor. When you are around death and suffering enough, if you don't find a way to handle it, it will eat away at you until you go nutso, or find a new job, or both. Children are the hardest, but I eventually found my way to handle that also...

Last year we had a local guy die putting up Christmas lights by slipping and falling off an icy roof, leaving a wife and two kids behind.

Sometimes conditions are just not safe for working and extra precautions are necessary. It is wise to listen to that voice in your head saying "This is a stupid idea..."