In 1988, from my second story apartment over a liquor store on Springfield’s Main Street, I watched a paramedic and his partner attend to the chaos at the accident scene below as the red strobes of their ambulance lights illuminated the street. Then for just a moment, the paramedic, a tall roughened man in his…
This is an old Christmas story I wrote years ago, reposted now. ***Fifteen on the Scale It’s Christmas eve. We get called to one of the local nursing homes for rib pain. The room number sounds familiar. As we wheel our stretcher through the lobby, “Good King Wencelous” plays through the speakers. Gently shone the…