Exercises

"My Babies Are in That Car!"

   By William M. Hendryx

 Winter winds were gusting outside the coin laundry as Joy Warren carried her basket to the car. The 37-year-old mother of seven had less than 20 minutes to pick up two of her older children from school in Fort Worth, Texas. "Let's go," she said to the younger ones. Faith, age five, jumped into the back seat of the aging 1978 station wagon, and Stephen, three, followed. Joy strapped four-month-old Esther in to the rear-facing infant car seat beside her.

    Months earlier, thieves had broken into the car and damaged the mechanism of the car. Repairs, however, simply weren't in the budget. Joy and her husband, Bill, a computer programmer, had sacrificed to educate their children at Calvary Academy, a private school.

    "We're going to be late," Joy told the kids 20 minutes later as the car began climbing the steep drive. Pulling into the far edge of the crowded parking lot, Joy could see noisy North Forest Park Boulevard 150 yards below and, just beyond it, the Trinity River.

    "All of you stay put. I'll be back in a second," she said, turning to Faith and Stephen. "And keep an eye on Esther for me, okay?" She didn't like leaving the children alone, but the baby was sleeping soundly. And it would only be a moment or two.

    Dashing the 40 yards to the school entrance, Joy had to wait for Adam and Lori. They're taking too long, she thought. She had to get back.

    As she finally hurried out the door, trailed by Adam and Lori, she found the car's luggage rack moving in the distance. Oh, my God! The car had drifted off the lot and was coasting toward the grassy, tree-lined field below. This can't be happening!

    Her heart beating wildly from fear, Joy raced after the car. But the car moved faster and faster, so the gap between Joy and her three youngest children widened. As she raced down the steep incline, she saw the five-year-old, now in the front seat, clearly trying to stop the car.

    Joy kept up running after the car, watching in despair as the car miraculously avoided one tree after another. Within seconds, the car swept through the school's seldom-used lower parking lot, missing every light pole, then turning sharply toward the four-lane North Forest Park Boulevard.

    Seret Gomez, a 17-year-old, and classmate Daniel Whitehead, an athletic 16, were standing beside Daniel's car on that February day in 1992. Suddenly they saw the lumbering station wagon 200 feet below, with Joy running more than 100 feet behind. It's heading for the highway! Daniel thought. "Come on!" he called to Seret.

    With his athlete's speed, Daniel caught up with Joy as she hesitated near the highway. "Is anyone in there?" he called as he ran past, Seret only a few steps behind.

    "My babies!" Joy cried. "My babies are in that car!"

    As the wagon entered the street, traffic in both directions was heavy. Moving across the first two lanes, the car shot across the two southbound lanes without receiving a scratch.

    Thank God! Joy thought. But her relief was quickly dashed. The car, moving at a speed of up to 30 miles per hour, now faced a greater danger. It's heading for the river!

    Unable to swim, Joy felt helpless as the car tilted down the bank and launched itself from a four foot drop-off. Its wheels still spinning, the car sailed 20 feet before landing with a thunderous splash in the cold, muddy water.

    Lord, help them! Joy screamed inside. Who will save them now?

Daniel glanced both ways before bounding across the road. At this point, traffic had all but stopped. He threw off his coat as he neared the riverbank.

    Pausing, he saw the car tilting nose-down at a dangerous 45-degree angle. Inside he saw Faith and Stephen, wide-eyed with fright, climbing into the back seat to reach a higher point.

    Without thinking, Daniel dived headfirst into the river. He was shocked by the icy coldness and the strength of the current. He reached the car in a few strokes and grabbed the front passenger door handle. But the water was only four inches beneath the window, and the door wouldn't move slightly. Not a good idea anyway, he realized. The car would immediately sink.

    Daniel was suddenly aware of a bearded stranger next to him. The man was trying to open the rear passenger door. Inside, Stephen and Faith were staring at the stranger through the foggy windows.

    The car was settling deeper and deeper into the current. "We've got to break the window!" Daniel called to the man.

    Two minutes earlier, Charles "Skip" Womack, 35, a truck driver, had driven his 18-wheeler around a bend on North Forest Park Boulevard just as a station wagon rushed across the pavement in front of him. He turned on his emergency lights and braked to a stop just as the car splashed into the water.

    Skip jumped from his truck and saw a young man rushing onto the roadway several yards to his left. Skip ran abreast of him toward the river. From behind he heard a woman's urgent cries: "My babies! Someone help my babies!"

    There're kids in there! he realized.

    Skip jumped feet-first, his plunge almost at the same time with Daniel's. His high-top boots were filled with icy water, and his jeans felt like lead. But when he saw Stephen and Faith huddled in the back seat, he had just one thought: If I don't get them out, they'll drown.

    Only vaguely aware that Daniel was next to him, Skip violently pulled at the door beside the back seat, but it was locked. Noticing a half-inch gap in the window, he painfully wedged his thick, workman's fingers through the slot and pulled at the glass hard. It wouldn't give.

Suddenly, another hand appeared at the window, as Daniel put his smaller fingers farther into the opening. With one powerful snap, the two men broke the safety glass into hundreds of pieces.

    Skip called to Faith and Stephen, "We've got to get you out of here!" The car was sinking fast. Their faces filled with fear, the children moved quickly toward the open window. Holding on to the car with one hand, Daniel reached inside, hooked Faith beneath her left arm and lifted her out . She looks like she's in shock, he thought, as he tried with all his strength to hold her out of the water. Daniel pushed away from the car, to make room for the next rescuer. It was then that he saw Seret next to the front door. She had followed him into the water.

    Racing only a few steps behind Daniel, Seret had dived in. She swallowed a gulp of muddy water. Her mind raced. Keep us all safe. It's going to be okay. We can do this!

    She reached the car just as Daniel and Skip were removing Faith. Inside, she saw Stephen's wide eyes staring at her. Good, he knows I'm coming to get him.

    Daniel carried Faith on his back, wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and set out for shore. But the current was too strong, and he was tiring fast. He changed course, swimming with the current, and finally made it to shore downstream. He passed the little girl to the arms of her anxious mother. Joy Warren removed her jacket and wrapped it around Faith, while a bystander helped Daniel from the water.

    Meanwhile, Seret had inched along the car toward Stephen. She placed her foot against the door and seized the boy by the arm, dragging him out the window. She took him in her arm and pushed slowly away from the car. But the 28-pound load was more than she had expected. Seret fought to hold him up, while making efforts to keep her own head above water. I have to make it, she thought. Then out of nowhere, another person appeared.

    Allan McGinnis had been driving along North Forest Park when he noticed a crowd at the river. As he slowed, he saw a car in the water and a teen-age girl beside it. Jumping from his van, he plunged into the water.

    Allan quickly reached Seret and Stephen. Taking the boy from her and holding him straight out to the side, Allan fought his way to shore, using only his legs and left arm. After passing Stephen to a stranger, he climbed onto the bank and collapsed.

    Alone now in the water, Skip Womack could see the baby strapped in the front car seat, the water already touching her legs. Skip pounded his fist on the front-door window again and again, but it was no use. If he was to save the infant, he'd have to get at her through the back window.

    He'd have to crawl inside the sinking station wagon.

    Driving his old truck toward his office, Rodger Brownlee saw a large crowd of people, and a station wagon in the water. A man was banging on the passenger window with his fist.

   Rodger hesitated. There're so many people here already. But he pulled over and walked quickly toward the river. By now, the man who had been pounding on the car window had crawled inside.

    If the car sinks, that guy's in big trouble! Rodger thought. He took off his boots and charged across the bank, jumping in.

    Inside the car, Skip reached his hand to Esther─not making a sound as she stared up at him with bright round eyes.

    Give me strength, Lord! Skip prayed as he felt the car settle deeper into the water. He tried to break the strap with force. Something snapped, but there was still no slack. Giving up, he forced the strap away from Esther just enough to squeeze her tiny shoulder from beneath it. The baby Just outside the window a blond man was treading water. "Take the baby!" Skip called to Rodger Brownlee. Taking hold of the child, Rodger held the infant face up under his right arm and kicked away from the car.

    When Rodger finally felt his feet touch bottom, he was gasping. Swimming across the current with one arm, while keeping the baby's head out of the water, had left him completely exhausted. Struggling for a foot-hold, he passed the child to a waiting stranger, then found another extended hand to help him out. The stranger worked his way through the crowd to deliver the infant to her grateful mother. Joy held her baby tight, muttering a silent prayer of thanks.

    As Rodger Brownlee got his footing, he turned to see Skip Womack only a few feet behind. With the aid of three others, Rodger assisted him up the bank.

    Trying to catch their breath, the two men looked back in time to see the old car suddenly spin 180 degrees and disappear beneath the water.

    At that moment. Engine No. 2 of the Fort Worth Fire Department screeched to a stop behind them. The time was 3:38 p.m.─only six minutes had passed since the car began its deadly descent.

    Though Faith was visibly shaken, neither she nor Stephen was injured. Esther─held tightly in her mother's arms─was taken by ambulance to the hospital, where she was treated for a mild scratch and released. A short time later, Bill Warren, Joy's husband, arrived to take them home.

    The following Sunday, the five rescuers were honored at a morning church service. Three months later, on May 12, 1992, the grateful Fort Worth Fire Department─in a presentation before the city council─publicly praised them for their selfless acts.

(1,952 words)

(From Reader's Digest , Feb. 1994 )

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