Breaking the Fall

Breaking the Fall

Noel Laflin

5-29-15

The evening would have been unremarkable and forgotten to memory altogether had I not been closely following a woman, watching her come to a sudden halt, hearing her softly exclaim with just the slightest hint of surprise, ‘I think I’m blacking out,’ and then witnessing her swoon - oh, so slowly and gently upon the old pathway - her sudden and unexpected decent eased by her husband’s arms quickly reaching out and breaking the fall.

 

It occurred on a warm spring night in La Palma Park following a Cub Scout event held in the old stone-terraced outdoor amphitheater.  It had been a night of relaxed revelry, songs, and newly acquired awards and patches.  I was eight years old.

There was a nurse among the crowd, a mother of one of my mates, who immediately attended to the woman on the ground.  Although there were no mobile devices back then, someone had the presence of mind to quickly find a pay phone and summon an ambulance in response.  But it was too late.

 

My parents later said that it had been a sudden heart attack or stroke apparently – I am fuzzy on that detail, as well as stumped regarding the woman’s identity.  And as my folks are no longer here to set me right, I may never have the answer to that last wondering.

But I will never forget the dimly lit pathway leading us back to our cars, the good natured camaraderie amongst friends and neighbors enjoying the pleasantry of a beautiful evening stroll, a woman’s sudden last words, the calmness in her voice, nor the unexpected swoon.

 

I might have only been a kid and I may never know her name, but I will forever remember how that man so quickly caught her, gently easing her to the ground, and breaking that hard and final fall.