Earl was sitting 2 rows in front of me today on Delta Flight 1263 from Salt Lake City to Seattle. The plane’s wheels had barely lifted from the Mormanland tarmac, and I had barely nodded off when he slouched forward in his chair unconscious.
I watch the hushed flurry of activity. I was in awe of it, actually: At the flight attendants that rushed to his aid, at the two nurses on the board that calmly and bravely came to Earl’s side, at the off-duty flight attendants that walked the aisles with a smile collecting trash and passing out ginger cookies, and at Earl’s companions. They were about half his age, in their thirties. The man at Earl’s side wrapped his arms around him and affectionately stroked his hair.
I couldn’t tell from two seats back on Flight 1263 if Earl was even alive. But the dignity of the whole thing, the tenderness of it, really effected me. All of the strangers that became energized and purposed to keep a man they didn’t even know breathing.
I even smiled to myself that Delta, my favorite and most traveled airline, had such an extensive first aid kit on board the they were able to attach an IV to Earl’s arm. I watched the drip and the IV bag wedged in the handle of the overhead compartment.
Earl seemed to be coming to when we landed. I really hope he’ll be okay. But I couldn’t help but smile and feel proud to have seen it all. I felt moved by the compassion I witnessed. The trembled but peaceful efforts of a few stewardesses and off-duty nurses who are as we speak catching cabs or rides home from the airport and back to their normal lives.
And the man next to Earl, brushing his hands through Earl’s hair, squeezing Earl’s shoulder, and saying Earl’s name too him softly. Forgetting his manly dignity for a moment for the sake of mercy and love.
Delta, you rock. Both of you nurses do to. And Earl, best of luck.
Amazing.
yeah…great post.