Our way of saying goodbye

I had the privilege of attending the funeral of a long time paramedic last weekend. My husband and 3 younger kids went with me. I knew it would be something special, but I was not prepared for how emotional it would be for me. I spent a total of 8 years running ambulance calls in my life. Most people have very little idea of the 'stuff' that we see and do. Very few people understand the culture surrounding EMS. I find myself very lucky to have spent some serving among some amazing EMT's and Paramedics who answer the call to help some one else. It was so good for me to see so many of them again last weekend, even if it was to say goodbye to our Chief.

As we were driving to the funeral, we realized that we weren't exactly sure where the church was. Yet, as we rounded a corner we found slew of ambulances, firetrucks and rescue vehicles outside of a church. We knew we were there. As we got out of the van, I heard the bagpipes. I started to realize how special the day was going to be. The funeral itself was a fairly simple affair with 3 speakers and one song. Yet, there was majesty as the line of uniformed EMS workers filed into their seats. The speakers all spoke from the heart, giving very personal accounts of the chief. One of them even addressed how hard the job of an EMT is. He recognized the long hours, little pay and little thanks. One talked about how important Ron's family was to him. The other summed it my feelings very well. Ron Hart wanted to make you a better person. He was even willing to hurt your feelings. This was a man who helped me grow up. At the time, I didn't realize how much he had taught me.

After the funeral service, the honor guard loaded his casket into an ambulance draped in black. The bagpipes played. It was beautiful. We then gathered in the long line driving to the internment. As we gathered at the graveside, a few more words were said. The bagpipes played "Taps". The flag was folded and presented. After that came silence. I couldn't see what was going on near the casket, so I had no idea what to expect. Then, over my shoulder, I heard the distant sound of a helicopter. As I turned, I realized there were two of them, flying in formation. My heart welled up as I realized the amount of effort that the EMS services had given in order to pay respect. One of the helicopters flew off, and the other hovered for a moment. Then the radio crackled, with the dispatcher calling out for Ron Hart. Her voice was breaking, because she knew he wouldn't answer. At this point, I began sobbing. I had run so many ambulance calls with Ron. I had heard him on the radio so many times. I did not want to feel the pain of knowing that he wasn't going to answer. Then, after calling for him 3 times, there was radio silence. Silence.
The honor guard placed thier gloves with the casket. Those gloves would never be used again.

When a person is so important to so many different people, there is a huge void left over. There are no words to convey how that feels to an EMS community. Yet, that community gathered. They gathered and supported each other. They said goodbye in a way that will be remembered for a long time. To that community: I thank you for letting me be a part of things.