# The Look, The Terror, The Tears

- Link: https://fontlife.com/victor/look-terror-tears/
- Published: 2010-11-07T15:54:14-05:00
- Author: Victor Font

It took a full year to recover from my injuries. I wasn’t allowed to be out in the
sun. Facial wounds exposed to sunlight can result in significant scarring. A large
wide-brimmed hat became my constant companion. At least I could work indoors. I 
landed a position with a new warehouse and distribution center for Troy Lighting.
My boss was Andy Chang. Andy taught me how to do everything, from building light
fixtures and repairing broken glass to handling all the packing, shipping and receiving.
We kept inventory on a cardex system. It was a very interesting year. I still pumped
gas when I could to supplement my income, but only after the sun went down.

The Lord had different plans for me though. An opportunity arose for me to attend
the New Jersey State Department of Health Emergency Medical Technician (“EMT”) training
program at no charge as long as you had a corporate sponsor. The owner of the gas
station sponsored me through his trucking business, Mecca and Sons. I attended class
with the owner’s sister, whose name escapes me.

In NJ, EMTs provide basic life support and advanced first aid. The most advanced
activity they can perform is the application of Military Anti-Shock Trousers (MAST).
Imagine, if you will, a pair of pants that can be blown up like a balloon while 
you’re wearing them. The tightening garment restricts blood flow in the lower extremities
to force blood up to head and major organs. MAST trousers are used in cases of severe
trauma where blood loss is significant. They are designed to prevent shock and the
complications of system shut down.

At the time, the NJ EMT training program required 81 hours of class room training
and 10 hours of in the field clinical training. You had to pass a comprehensive 
written exam as well as an evaluation of your technical skills in a live setting.
The pressure to pass the technical evaluation was enormous. Miss any three classroom
lectures and you were out of the program.

Everyone’s favorite part of the training was the vehicle extrication class. This
was a Saturday session at an outside location. Every course was provided with five
junk cars that were to be cut apart to simulate rescue operations after a serious
motor vehicle accident. We got to use the hurst tool (jaws of life) and K-12 saws.
We cut off doors and roofs, broke windshields, and just destroyed the vehicles to
our hearts content. I have to admit, it was a lot of fun. I passed the EMT program
the first time through.

Before anyone would hire you as a paid professional, you had to have at least one
years’ experience under your belt. It’s a kind of catch-22. You can’t work as a 
paid professional unless you had the experience, but no one could hire you to give
you the experience. The only avenue open to you to gain the needful first year was
to sign-up for a volunteer program. I joined the Union City Volunteer Ambulance 
Corp. 24/7 most weekends and almost every other shift I could get my hands on. I
became a regular fixture in Union City.

My first call in Union City was a murder. I can’t remember how the victim died, 
but he was definitely dead by the time we arrived at the scene. Since I was the 
new kid on the block, the senior members of the response team made me ride in the
back of the bus (slang for ambulance) with the dead body because legally, he was
a patient and not considered dead until a doctor pronounced him so. That first ride
was scary. The victims face wasn’t covered and I kept imagining that I was seeing
him breathing. I almost expected him to sit up in the stretcher at any moment. He
reminded me of Bluto from the Popeye comics. He has a scruffy beard and a heavy 
set body like, well…like Bluto. Once we got to the hospital and he was pronounced
dead by a physician, I discovered I wasn’t required to ride in the back of the bus
at all. I was paying my dues.

After a year, the Lord began moving in an unusual way. There I was pumping gas again
and what do I see on my corner, a little girl about 7 or 8 years old gets hit by
a car and the car speeds away. Oh no! A hit and run on my corner! Somebody call 
9-1-1 I remember yelling as I ran to assist the little girl. I performed a field
assessment and determined there weren’t any signs of a major injury.

When the bus from the Jersey City Medical Center arrived, I identified my self as
an EMT from Union City Volunteer Ambulance Corp and presented my clinical findings.
The paramedic, Bud Lee, told me I did a good job and asked me if I would be interested
in working full time. The Medical Center was actively hiring EMTs. I jumped at the
chance. Bud gave me the name of Alan Bourassa, the Director of EMS for the hospital.
I contacted Alan the next day.

I was hired as a per diem. That is, I was always on call and would come to work 
only when they needed me. I was needed a lot. I worked pretty steadily with many
double shifts. I frequently got the psych run, transporting psychiatric patients
to the Trenton State Hospital Mental Health facility. Some of those folks were scary
crazy, but at least I was working.

After a year of per diem work, the Lord opened another opportunity to attend the
Paramedic program. Paramedicine was in its infancy in NJ. I made it into the last
pilot class paid for by the state. So again, the Lord gave me an education at no
cost. Classes were held at the University of Medicine and Dentistry in Newark. The
didactic portion of the program was six months long, followed by six months of clinical
rotation at a sponsoring hospital. I had to do all of this and still maintain a 
full time job schedule to pay the bills.

Clinical rotation included doing time in the operating room working with anesthesiologists
to learn how to intubate patients. We also worked in the phlebotomy lab learning
how to draw bloods. We did other rotations through the Emergency Room, OB/GYN, pediatrics,
neo-natal intensive care, psychiatry, intensive care, cardiac care, and oh yes, 
the morgue. We had to assist the coroners in performing five autopsies.

Paramedics provide advanced life support. We carried much of the equipment on the
bus that you would find in an emergency room. We were taught how to read cardiac
monitors, administer emergency drugs, and how to improve the quality of a persons
life under the most severe and stressful situations. I passed the program the first
time through and was issued license #428.

The Jersey City Medical Center had a busy ambulance service. For a population estimated
at 250,000 housed in 18 square miles, we ran three busses from 8am to 12 midnight
and two from midnight to 8am. As a service we responded to more the 25,000 calls
annually. My personal busiest day was 17 calls in an 8 hour shift.

As paramedics began to expand across the state and new territories were authorized,
there weren’t enough medics available to staff the positions. So those of us who
were more seasoned frequently took a second full time job to cover the manpower 
shortages. I was no exception. I started working a second full time job at Clara
Maass Medical center in Belleville. We covered North Newark, Belleville, Nutley,
Lyndhurst, North Arlington, Harrison, and parts of Bloomfield and Montclair. I worked
at Clara Maas from 11pm to 7am and would shoot to Jersey City to start my day 8am
to 4pm day shift. I was very busy and very tired.

During all that time I personally responded to over 25,000 calls. (Actually, I think
it was like 40,000, but I’m being conservative in my estimate). About 15% of those
calls were true, priority one emergencies. These were calls to help people who were
either dead or dying. As the science of paramedicine matured, the task of performing
the initial pronouncement of death fell on the medics.

We saw a lot of dead people. I estimate that for the time I spent in the field, 
I saw 3,600 to 4,000 people either dead or dying. With all those deaths, only once,
did I enter home where the family members were praising God because their loved 
one went home to Heaven. Only once! They were singing hymns, quoting scripture, 
and expressing true joy because their dearly departed was now in Glory. My medic
partner and the other EMTs that responded with me thought the family was nuts. I
held a different perspective.

There was one other death that I will never forget. I don’t remember the man’s name,
or even what he was dying from. I don’t remember whether it was trauma or a medical
problem. What I do remember is that I was working his airway. I had intubated him
and was breathing for him through an ambu-bag attached to the endotracheal tube.
It was my job to watch his face. There were more deaths than I can count where mine
was the very last face those dying saw on this side of life.

It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. You can often read how a person
is feeling just by looking into their eyes. You’ve probably been able to know when
a loved one was happy or sad without them ever uttering a word, just be gazing into
their eyes. It was no different with this patient.

One thing that was unusual with this call is that the patient maintained consciousness
throughout the dying process. Just before he took his final breaths, I noticed tears
running down his cheeks. This drew my attention and I watched his eyes. First, I
perceived fear. Within a couple of breaths the fear turned into sheer terror, then
he was gone, his terror replaced with the dilated pupils of death.

That perception of terror haunted me. I often wondered what it was that caused him
such fear and terror. I can’t prove what I think happened, but I do have an opinion.
Let me explain by referring you to the book of Acts.

In Acts chapter 6, the early church was growing rapidly. As a result of the rapid
growth, the Grecians were murmuring because the widows were being neglected in the
daily ministrations. In other words, their physical need for sustenance was not 
being met. The Apostles wisely chose seven men of good report to serve the physical
needs of the church. Stephen was one of these first deacons.

Stephen had a reputation for being filled with the Holy Ghost. He did great wonders
and miracles amongst the people. As a result, the leaders of certain synagogues 
known as the Libertines, Cyrenians, Alexandrians, and the synagogues in Cilicia 
and Asia, desired to oppose Stephen’s work for the Lord. They conspired against 
him and accused him on blasphemy.

When we pick up the story in Acts chapter 7, Stephen gives an encapsulated history
of Israel beginning with God’s call to Abraham to leave Ur of the Chaldees all the
way to the Just One who came in the flesh, our Lord Jesus Christ. This incensed 
the leaders of the synagogues and they physically attacked Stephen. A remarkable
and unprecedented event occurred while Stephen was under attack. Acts 7:54-60 reads:

> When they heard these things, they were cut to the heart, and they gnashed on 
> him with their teeth. But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly
> into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of
> God, and said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on
> the right hand of God. Then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their
> ears, and ran upon him with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned
> him: and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man’s feet, whose name
> was Saul. And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive
> my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this
> sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep.

Verses 55 and 56 are the verses I want you to focus upon:

> But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly into heaven, and saw
> the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, and said, Behold,
> I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.

In these verses, God opened Stephen’s spiritual sight and allowed him a glimpse 
of the Glory that awaited him for his belief and faith in the Messiah. This is the
same Glory that awaits every born-again believer in God. Because of this vision,
Stephen was dragged out of the city and stoned to death.

What I think happened to the man in the back of my ambulance, is that in the last
few moments of his life, God opened his spiritual sight and allowed him to see his
eternal destiny. All of us have eternal life. Where we spend eternity is a choice
we have to make while we still have our physical life. The eternal life spoken about
in the Bible is the Glory Stephen glimpsed before his death. It is living for eternity
with God in Heaven. For those who choose to reject the truth of Jesus Christ, eternal
life means an eternity separated from God in a place designed to punish Satan and
all the rest of the fallen angels, his demons. This place is called Hell. It is 
a place of terror, torment, and eternal separation from the God of Love.

I believe that what the man saw in the back of my ambulance was the pit of hell 
opened before him as he took his final breaths. I saw the terror and tears in his
eyes and I remember clearly thinking to myself, “Wow! This man just went to hell.”
I was helpless to do anything about it.