The Calls That Leave a Mark

This was probably my worst call ever. I stepped on the body of that little girl in that lake. I was searching for her in the swimming area by the beach. The park ranger told us she was in the woods. We searched the lake. It was a sunny, hot September day, late in the afternoon. I remember it like it was yesterday. The worst part... the part that I will probably never eradicate from my brain- was the gut-splitting wail that little girl's mother screamed as she collapsed on the beach as I lifted her daughter's body out of the water. I can still hear it. I can still see it. I can still feel it.

We get her in the ambulance. She was gone already. Her sweet little 6-year-old face was ashen gray. She was staring straight at me. My partner was calling for the airway kit. I blacked out. I froze. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I knew where the airway kit was. I had checked that jump bag a million times before. But in that moment, I couldn't find it. Another EMT hopped in the ambulance and I hopped out. As soon as my feet hit the pavement an extremely agitated man with a cigarette in his hand, got in my face and yelled " You all aint' doin' f****n' nothin'". I assumed he was the father or boyfriend or whatever. I didn't know who the hell he was. That stung. I still carry that.

My wife at the time, 3 young daughters and I had a trip planned to Hershey Park. I didn't talk much if at all that weekend. Only to be told to 'get over it'. I was carrying a tremendous amount of guilt and shame. Moral injury they call it. I know that now, but I didn't know that then.

We had a formal CISD at the fire department the following Monday. It was there that I learned the grim details of the evil that befell that little girl. I was punched in the brain all over again.

I made the front page of the newspaper on that call. I was the guy holding the sheet like a curtain so no one would see the body being moved from the ambulance to the helicopter.

Life can be wickedly unfair.

There are certain calls that don’t leave you. And it’s crazy, because it’s rarely the ones people think would wreck you. It’s not the blood and guts or your stereo-typical trauma stuff. Most firefighters and medics can handle that part. Some find it weirdly cool.

What blindsides us…

is the malevolence. The pure evil.

It’s the moment you realize human beings can intentionally destroy each other in ways you didn’t think were possible.

It’s walking into a room and feeling the aftershock of someone’s rage.

It’s seeing the damage a human heart can unleash when it turns dark — really dark.

Those are the calls that linger.

You can’t 'un-know' what people are capable of once you’ve seen it up close. And it leaves a bruise on the soul that no one on the outside really understands. You try to explain it and the words fall short, so you swallow it, tuck it away, and try to outrun the memories for a while.

But evil has a way of echoing.

The Other Kind of Hurt — the Tragic Kind

It’s not always malevolence. Sometimes it’s pure, soul-crushing tragedy.

A family that never made it home.

A man dead in a car accident on Christmas morning- wrapped presents on the front seat.

The quiet stillness of a room where you know, without anyone telling you, that everything changed forever.

That’s the stuff that follows you into the shower, into your car, into your thoughts at 3 a.m. when you wake up for no reason. You can’t help but think about the fragility of life, the unfairness, the sheer suddenness of it all.

You walk away knowing you witnessed someone’s last moment on earth.

You saw the moment the story stopped.

And the weight of that… can be heavy.

I can remember so many dead faces.

It doesn’t matter how tough, seasoned, or trained you are — tragedy has a way of slipping into your heart.

The Spiritual Weight of Bearing Witness

People forget this part:

First responders aren’t just dealing with physical scenes. They’re absorbing spiritual impact.

When you witness malevolence, you’re standing in the presence of something dark — something that feels like the world cracked open for a moment and let a shadow slip out.

When you witness tragedy, you’re standing in the sacred space where a life ended — where grief is fresh, where innocence was interrupted, where families will never be the same.

Both kinds of calls leave a mark on the mind… and they also leave a mark on the soul.

And that’s why responders don’t walk away the same. You’ve stood in places most people never will. You’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder with human suffering, intentional or accidental. You’ve felt spiritual gravity pulling at you while trying to do your job with steady hands.

That changes a person.

After You Look Evil in the Face — What Then?

This is the part no one teaches us.

You have to feel it.

Not bury it.

Not shame yourself for it.

Not pretend you’re above it.

Just feel the emotions that any normal human being would feel after staring into evil or tragedy.

Sadness.

Anger.

Confusion.

Compassion.

Fear.

Heartbreak.

Those are not weaknesses — It means you're not a neanderthal and have a soul.

And if you don’t let yourself feel them, they’ll find their own way out later… and it’s never good. It usually manifests as anger and/or reckless behavior.

My Thoughts

At the end of the day, first responders walk through shadows most people don’t know exist. You stand in the places where evil showed up or where tragedy tore through without warning. And yes — it leaves a mark.

And spiritually speaking — you were never meant to carry all of this alone.

Let yourself feel.

Let yourself process.

Let yourself breathe again.

Decompress...

Stay safe out there.

-Tom

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”  

Romans 12:21

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