It was dark, but that doesn’t make sense. Steve felt a twinge as he reached to get a sense of where he was.
“OW!” His hand recoiled in pain. Jackson wasn’t sure where he was; the time; or what happened.
He heard his phone buzzing somewhere to his right. His chest hurt. When he moved to rub it, his hand found the seatbelt.
Jackson remembered. He was driving back to Roseville for Pete and Jean’s party. The last thing he recalled was driving through Sullivan on highway 12. Roseville was 40 miles from Sullivan, but where was he?
He heard his phone buzzing somewhere to his right. His chest hurt. When he moved to rub it, his hand found the seatbelt.
Jackson remembered. He was driving back to Roseville for Pete and Jean’s party. The last thing he recalled was driving through Sullivan on highway 12. Roseville was 40 miles from Sullivan, but where was he?
Steve thought he drove through Sullivan around 3:30. The sun set a little before 8, so it must be at least 9 now. That means whatever happened took him way off the road. If no one’s seen him in six hours, that means he better figure things out.
When he reached right, he felt the back of the passenger’s seat. His bag wasn’t on the seat anymore, meaning it’s on the floor. After loosening the belt, he started leaning over when there was a wave of pain.
“Oh, crap.” Jackson stopped and did a self-check, running hands over arms and legs. Just above the right knee he felt something damp and sharp. He took a first aid class once and realized he didn’t have much time. His left hand found the steering wheel, which he used to sit up. The right hand found the key and pushed it forward, which lit the dashboard.
His bag and the phone inside were in front of the passenger seat leaning against the console holding the gear shift. He couldn’t lean over, but he found the ice scraper next to the door which snagged the bag.
Successful on the first attempt, he fished the phone out and punched in 9 – 1 – 1.
“9 - 1 – 1, what’s your emergency.”
“Hi. My name is Steve Jackson. I had a car accident, uh, maybe six hours ago. I’m off the road. I’m not sure where I am. My leg has a compound fracture and it’s bleeding.”
“Alright, Mr. Jackson. We can locate you by finding your cell phone and that will lead us to you. Are you safe?”
“Ma’am, I think so. The only light I have other than my phone is from the dashboard. I haven’t heard traffic or other noise, so I think my biggest problem is you finding me.”
“Mr. Jackson, I have your location. A State Trooper will be there in a few minutes. A paramedic and fire truck are on the way, can I do anything to help?”
“I was on my way to Roseville to see my good friend Pete Moss. Is there any way you can call and let him know why I’m late?”
“Mr. Jackson, I’m going on break in a few minutes. When I do, I’ll give him a call.”
“Thank you very much. I can hear a faint siren now.”
“Very good, Mr. Jackson. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Steve’s adrenaline was dropping with help on the way, but he wasn’t out of the woods. He winced, I’m literally not out of the woods! Drops were falling on his lower right leg. He wondered if something was leaking from the engine, but when he ran a finger through it, he knew it was blood.
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“Mr. Moss? I’m Cindy, a dispatcher with the Jefferson County 9 – 1 – 1. Your friend Steve Jackson was in an accident. I’m on break now and promised Mr. Jackson I’d call to let you know.”
“Oh... what? Is he OK?”
“I don’t know and frankly, I couldn’t tell you anyway. First responders are with him now.”
“Thank you, Cindy for making time to call.”
Pete hung up the phone and turned back to the party which turned quiet as folks got an idea something might be wrong.
“What is it, Pete?” Jean asked as she walked up to steady her fiancé who looked shaky.
“That was about Steve. He was in an accident in Jefferson county. First responders are on the scene.”
Emjay approached her mom and her boss. “Let me get on the phone. I have a contact in the sheriff’s department. We can figure out where he’s going.”
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The trooper found the car on the other side of a stream 300 feet off the road. The passenger window was missing.
“Mr. Jackson, I’m Jeff Jones. The paramedics will be here shortly. You told the dispatcher your leg might be broken, anything else?”
“I don’t think so – the leg really hurts and I think it’s bleeding more.”
Jones shone his light into the car’s interior. “Mr. Jackson, the paramedics will start treating you right away and the crew on the truck will figure how to get you out and to the hospital.”
“OK. Thank you, Jeff.”
Jones started to talk, then noticed Jackson’s eyes shut in pain as the medics approached.
“Hi. He was just talking a few moments ago.”
The medic checked Jackson’s airway, breathing, and circulation. His breathing was labored and pressure low and dropping.
Jacob Marberg went through his mental checklist and applied pressure to slow the bleeding from Jackson’s leg.
As he got a better look at the leg and the wreckage around Jackson, he realized there was much to do before they could get him to the hospital.
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