by: Herman J. Mosteller, Jr.

This Sunday morn', the sun shining bright

Not one single call throughout the night

As I sat and thought, "How Lucky could I BE"

Then my pagers tone crushed my serenity

As Central called, Cardiac Arrest they'd say

I ran out my door and as I'm on my way

"Officers to the scene, if it's in your zone"

I was the first one there, only two blocks from home

When I saw the house, I thought "This Cannot BE!"

As a woman in the doorway screams out to me

I grabbed my bag, and I ran inside

On the Living Room floor is where she lied

With her lifeless body laying in front of me

I dropped beside her upon both knees

I check for a pulse, I hear "She's only 23 years old"

Her skin was blue and already cold

I opened the airway, took a breath and blew

Now my mind was racing, "Was that one or two?!"

So I carefully positioned my hands upon her chest

Trust in your training I thought, just do your best

Seemed like forever until the Medics appear

I see her father swollen eyes and through his tears

"Please don't stop trying!" and he begins to cry

"She's my little girl, please don't let her die!"

In the Rig I now sit, from tears I no longer refrain

My soul filled with sadness, my heart filled with pain

As the events of this morn' play over 'n over in my head

As the siren wails, someone now says:

"You didn't let her die Lieutenant, she was already dead"

'Me'

©1998