Editor鈥檚 Note: This excerpt is reprinted with permission from by Tom Kranz.
Can one devastating mistake erase 20 years of good? The road to redemption for volunteer EMT Griffin Ambrose is dark, indeed 鈥� a crashed ambulance, a dead patient, an injured partner, then testing legally drunk After going to jail, losing his EMT card and getting fired from his paid job, he contemplates a new life in exile. But some of his former patients haven鈥檛 forgotten the good he did, the lives he saved. Will their support be enough to allow him to rise from oblivion?
By Tom Kranz
The meeting finally ended, and the members adjourned to the large table in the back of the room that held boxes of pizza. Griffin stood trying to eat a slice of veggie with grace when Mira gave him a nudge. She was eating a slice of plain.
鈥淵ou were quiet,鈥� he said.
She nodded with a mouthful of pizza, a smile trying to break through.
鈥淒iesel? Gas? No opinion?鈥�
She shook her head with that same half-grin, then took another bite.
鈥淚鈥檇 love to be a fly on the wall when Lefcourt goes to the Council begging for money,鈥� said Griffin. 鈥淔rom what I鈥檝e read, this year鈥檚 capital budget barely has room for a new police car let alone an ambulance to replace one that鈥檚 still in good working order.鈥�
Mira swallowed and wiped her mouth with the single napkin she clutched in her left hand. 鈥淭hose boys need a purpose,鈥� she said.
鈥淚 come for the food,鈥� Griffin offered. 鈥淭hese meetings are tedious.鈥�
鈥淵ou鈥檝e sat through a few.鈥�
鈥淵ou know, the president of the Riegelsville Rescue Squad tells members not to come to meetings. He and his officers do business, then send a group email. If someone has a problem, they deal with it, but usually no one cares. He鈥檇 rather they spend their volunteer time responding to calls.鈥�
鈥淚 wish,鈥� Mira said, putting away the last bite of pizza. 鈥淲e can鈥檛 seem to eclipse the 20-80 rule, can we?鈥�
鈥淭wenty percent of the members do 80-percent of the work? I wish it were that high.鈥�
At that moment, a dozen radios blared the familiar dispatch tone, and everyone froze in position to listen.
Dispatch to Forston Rescue Squad, respond to 101 Chalmers Street. 101 Chalmers Street. Possible CVA.
Griffin and Mira looked around. To their relief, Lucy and a fresh young EMT named Lee snapped to. They were followed into the ambulance bay by provisional member Andrea, a high school senior looking for something to put on her resume.
Mira motioned for Griffin to follow her into the captain鈥檚 office. He followed, carrying the remains of his pizza on a floppy paper plate in one hand, a cup of diet Coke in the other. Mira sat at the desk. Griffin sat in the surprisingly comfy chair next to the desk. They both finished their plates.
鈥淚 want you to know I think you鈥檙e a real asset to the squad,鈥� she said without ceremony. 鈥淎nd I like riding with you.鈥�
He was surprised at the unsolicited praise.
鈥淏ut I have concerns.鈥�
He dropped his crust, wiped his hands on his jeans and swallowed.
鈥淚鈥檓 not sure the best way to say it, so I鈥檒l just say it.鈥� She paused and looked him in the eyes. 鈥淚鈥檓 worried about your drinking.鈥�
Griffin froze, first staring into her eyes, then averting his.
鈥淚 notice it on the overnight calls,鈥� she continued. 鈥淭here鈥檚 fogginess that鈥檚 beyond sleepiness. A couple times I smelled alcohol.鈥�
Griffin turned back to look at her and said, 鈥淲hat are you talking about?鈥�
She didn鈥檛 stop eating, but casually met his gaze. 鈥淵ou know exactly what I鈥檓 talking about.鈥�
鈥淣o, I don鈥檛. You are way off base, and I resent--"
鈥淪top. Just stop.鈥� She stopped chewing and glared at him. 鈥淒on鈥檛 insult my intelligence.鈥�
Caught off guard, he snapped into defense. 鈥淭hen, don鈥檛 insult mine. There鈥檚 no problem, Mira.鈥�
鈥淚 beg to differ.鈥�
Griffin was at a loss.
鈥淚 grew up with two alcoholics, my father and my brother. Both denied it. My brother still denies it. Even after his third DUI, he denies it. I鈥檓 waiting for that phone call that they鈥檝e scraped him off a bridge abutment on I-78.鈥� Her head sank.
鈥淟isten to me,鈥� Griffin said. 鈥淚 do not have a drinking problem. I have a couple in the evening after work, but I always stop way before my on-call shift begins.鈥�
A lie delivered with conviction. He reloaded. 鈥淒o you think I would actually respond to a call drunk?鈥�
鈥淵ou have.鈥�
He shook his head.
鈥淵ou can deny it all you want, Griff. I trust my eyes, ears and nose.鈥�
鈥淭his is nuts,鈥� he spat. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 owe you an accounting of my private life.鈥�
鈥淲ell,鈥� she began.
鈥淲ell, what?鈥�
鈥淵ou do if it affects your ability to drive an ambulance and care for patients. That鈥檚 not only on you. It鈥檚 on me.鈥�
Griffin took a deep breath to lower his heart rate. Then another. He closed his eyes, then snapped them open. 鈥淭his conversation is over. I am not a drunk and I am not responding to calls drunk.鈥� He dropped his plate into the trash can, wiped his hands on his pants again, popped out of the chair and left the office.
---
Excerpted with permission from by Tom Kranz.
Published by TK Books LLC (2024)
Available on
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tom is a Philadelphia native whose 40-years in journalism include radio, television, print and online platforms. He holds a bachelor鈥檚 degree in communications from Temple University. He was a New Jersey certified EMT from 1999 to 2021 serving as a volunteer EMT on his local rescue squad in New Jersey answering more than 3,000 calls. He is still a certified CPR instructor and a life member of the squad. He resides in New Jersey where he writes, hosts a podcast on creativity and does freelance communications work.