Christmas Rerun

The Allan Gardens can also be pleasant: part of 2018's Christmas display.

I have company coming for lunch and supper today, so here's a rerun from December 2018 ... before the pandemic, before the encampment in the Allan Gardens ... back in the day when the city was, as it is now, randomly violent and also full of heroes.

I live in downtown Toronto, so I've followed blood trails from time to time. When I see them, I wonder what misfortune befell the person who left behind the bright red medallions on the sidewalk. I assume I'll never know what happened: a blow to the nose, or a cut with a knife...

Except for this one time, that is.

I was walking along the east-west diagonal path through the Allan Gardens. I was on my way to see a movie. In the distance I saw two people fighting. A woman about my height and weight was having the better time of it with a smaller, slighter man. She had him by his hair and was pounding him with great big haymaker punches.

I will walk by a lot of nonsense in this neighbourhood, but not fights. So, when I got to where they were - by three benches in the middle of the park - I stopped and called to them. I said I'd call the police if they didn't break it up.

At this point, the woman had the man pinned on his back on one of the benches. His head overhung the edge of the bench and was very close to the ground. 

I'd distracted them from their fight and it looked for a moment like they might stop.

Just then, a man sitting drinking a can of beer on another bench, stood, took a step toward the two, lifted his right leg bent at the knee and with truly shocking force, stomped on the small man's head.

That ended the fight. I yelled at the man with the beer who, I think, up until that moment had not been aware I was there.

The female combatant came at me, protesting her innocence. I ignored her, fished my phone out of my pocket and called 911.  

The guy who had been kicked had a three inch gash on his left temple and was bleeding profusely. He was conscious but seemed stunned by the force of the blow.

For the record, I was not alone. At least three other people, two men and an older woman, all saw the helpless small man get his head stomped by the guy with the beer. 

They were also all gone, the perpetrators, the witnesses, by the time I connected with the 911 operator a few seconds later.

I told the operator I needed an ambulance at the Allan Gardens.

She asked me what the address was.

Good grief. 

Once we'd sorted that out, the response of the paramedics was impressively swift. Mere minutes I'm sure. While they were on their way, a crowd of people joined me at the scene of the attack, a couple of whom had some first aid training. They helped the man while I conveyed instructions to them from the 911 operator.

A woman came up behind me, demanding information - what happened to him; is he hurt; how did this happen.  

I lost patience with her because it was hard to hear the 911 guy. I told her I couldn't answer all her questions. The 911 guy thought I was talking to him. He said he needed to ask me questions so they could help the assault victim. I said "no, no, no I wasn't talking to you." It'd have been funny if it weren't so grim.

The paramedics were two tall young women, calm and competent. They had the guy's head bandaged so fast I didn't even see them do it. They put a neck brace on him, which he did not react well to. He was struggling with it, trying to take it off, saying he couldn't breathe. Another young woman, just a civilian in the crowd I think, stepped in and started talking to the man, assured him the paramedics were there to help him, asked him what his name was. Incredibly, he calmed down, laid down on the gurney and let them get him ready to go into the van.

I'd hung up the 911 call when the paramedics arrived and watched from a distance as they prepared to take the injured man away. A couple of other emergency response types had shown up, one of whom had a supervisory air about him. I went up to him, said I was the one who'd made the call, and was it OK if I left.

He said, "sure" and then he said "thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, grateful for the civil exchange after all the shock and upset.

Then I turned around and went back home, life having handed me more excitement than a movie ever could.

Thanks for reading!

Karen