This Sunday, Doug gave a combination sermon/communion lesson (which he likes to call a 'Sermunion'). As he was transitioning to the communion, he read an article about a car crash from a small town Indiana paper. My first, highly spiritual, thought is "how did he hear about this?" Then he read the following:
DCSD Sgt. Brian McCullough said five men traveling behind the Bosses witnessed the crash and decided to intervene. Todd Hager, Westerville, Ohio; Brian Cunes, Cincinnati; Joe Stanwick, Columbus, Ohio; Andy Erickson, Cincinnati; and Mike Meyers, Dayton, were at the same charity bike ride event as the Bosses although they had never met.
Wait a second - Todd and Joe are members of my church and and the three of us along with Andy and Mike all went to college together back in Cincinnati.
The news story covers the overview, go read Andy's blog for more details on what happened and the emotional effects. You might think that pulling two men from a burning truck with only minutes to spare would be perhaps uplifting or exhilarating. From Andy's perspective, you'd be wrong:
The bottom line is that, despite our efforts, we left the scene with more questions than answers. And now, a few days later, that is the part that is difficult to live with. We felt, deep down inside, less than adequate. Why on earth would I question whether or not we should stop and help? These guys were badly injured and we were pulling on them like rubber bands to get them out of the burning truck. In tears, Todd questioned his own actions, "We had to get them out. They would have died." The balance of our own safety, our families, vs risking our lives to get these guys out. The questions bounce around like a racquetball inside our heads - on and on and on.
It's an amazing story that makes me proud to know these guys.
This past Saturday, I drove past an overturned car in the ditch on a dirt road out in the country southeast of Albuquerque. I had gone about 100 yards before it sunk in what I had just passed and I turned around and went back (nobody was in or around the car - I found out later that the driver was alone and had walked to get help and was hospitalized, but fine).
Anyway, I think sometimes it just takes our brains a few seconds to process what we've seen. I had some guilty feelings too - why didn't I stop immediately? Looking back, I realize that I did go help as soon as my stupid brain realized what I had seen.