Keeping Warm

It's kind of surprising, just how much of this job is spent in a car. This week Alex and I have been to four states and we're currently traveling back to Connecticut to pick up a witness who's due in court tomorrow.

Alex is driving. Alex always drives. Some people think it's a political statement, that I "let" her drive all the time because it shows how much I respect her… "even though she's a woman."

I let them think it. She is an amazing woman, and she has my profound respect.

The truth is: I don't like to drive that much. And since we're drastically different in size it doesn't make much sense to switch off a lot. We'd end up missing all the action because we were too busy adjusting the mirrors.

We had a blizzard last night, and the roads are terrible. Alex is very tense behind the wheel. I haven't been talking to her; she needs to concentrate on the road.

Traffic is at a standstill up ahead, and she masterfully slows the car steadily until we reach the others. I don't think she even had to touch the brake. All we can see in the line is that the cars are stopped. We can't see why. I call it in on the radio, just to find out what's going on.

"Rollover. We had a couple of calls; units are still on the way."

We grab the walkies and our coats and throw them on as we get out of the car. As we jog through the traffic, we pin our badges in a visible place. I get my stocking hat down over my ears. It is frigid today.

The van is resting on its side, blocking two of the lanes while there are two other vehicles at odd angles, blocking the rest. Some good Samaritans are milling around.

"Police," I call, over the wind.

A guy's head pops out of the driver's door of the van. "Everybody in here is hurt," he says. "Mom and three kids. Their belts weren't snug, they've all got possible neck and back injuries. Mom has a broken leg and a head injury. We could open this side door and get them out, but I thought they'd be warmer in here."

Without a word, I give Alex a boost and she climbs in after the guy. I call this latest news in on my radio and go check on the other two vehicles. The truck is banged up pretty good. Its driver is sitting in the first car in the line, holding an old sweatshirt against his bloody head. I check his pupils, he's dilated, but okay for now. I hand him my sunglasses.

The car is crunched on the passenger side and rammed the barrier on the curve. Its driver is a woman in her 50s. She is talking nonstop and very fast. I ask around and somebody finds a blanket for her. She refuses to sit in a stranger's car. I call in the information about these two and appoint a couple of Samaritans to keep an eye on them while I head back to see about the people in the van.

My radio spouts off and I answer. "These geniuses have started using the shoulder to try and get past. Can you clear us a path to get the buses through?"

"Copy that," I say.

After a lot of jogging/walking/yelling and the help of some orange cones on a construction truck, I manage to get a path clear from a turnaround to the accident. As the units and the ambulances come in, I start to realize just how cold I am. My fingers are starting to really hurt. I tuck my hands under my arms as I walk back to find Alex.

She's still inside, helping the man lift the children up and out to the paramedics. They've got neck braces on as a precaution, and the ambulance guys get them on a backboard as soon as they clear the van. It takes a little more work to get the mother out. I step in and offer a hand to the guy who helped and to my partner. Alex shivers when she's fully in the cold again.

"Damn," she complains. We check out with the black and whites and start walking back to the SUV. "You must be frozen solid," she says to me.

I nod. "I'm pretty cold," I say.

We climb in and she starts the engine, fires up the heat. The car has already gotten cold, and it takes a few minutes for warm air to come through the vents.

"They'll be okay," she says. "That guy was a Physician's Assistant, just happened to be on the road today. He took good care of them."

I smile between shivers. "That's good."

"Sounded like you were busy."

"A lot of walking."

"Your toes all right?"

"I can't feel them yet," I reply.

Finally, the cars start inching forward. As we pass the scene, we see the van still in the road, but the other two vehicles have been pulled off to the side. Soon we're up to speed and I strip off my gloves and my hat. My fingers and toes are screaming with pain, now.

"Bobby?"

"Starting to defrost now."

"You got frostbite?"

I chuckle. "No, nothing I haven't felt before. I'm fine."

"I'm pulling off at the next exit. We'll get some coffee."

That's the best thing I've heard all day. "I'm gonna call Connecticut, let 'em know we're running late."

I am finally warm, and the pain and numbness in my extremities has subsided. I take another sip of coffee and look out the window. It is snowing again. We still have at least an hour on the road before we reach our destination and more snow can only make it take longer. I glance up as Alex walks back from the restroom. She is smiling at me, and I know she feels as strongly as I do that this was a necessary stop.

"You ready?" She asks me.

"I'm gonna get another for the road," I say.

"Good idea. Get me one, too."