A man died last night.

A man died last night.  I didn’t even try to save him.  On our way to visit grandma, we were right behind a 5 car pile up.  A man was thrown from his car and he was face down in the middle of the road.  There were 9 people surrounding him.  Not one of them bent down to even so much as take his pulse.  My husband refused to let me out of the car to go and help. He didn’t want to risk my safety and that I wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway.  I don’t have a medical degree.  I took a simple first aid and CPR class, and I watch a lot of discovery health.  I know how to preform CPR and how to put pressure on a wound to slow the bleeding.  I know how to comfort a dying man and at least show the slightest bit of compassion.   So, while it’s true that I don’t know much, I do know something.  What people saw was a young black man, on the outskirts of a not so nice neighborhood.  What I saw was someone’s son.  It took the EMS workers ELEVEN minutes to get to the scene.  ELEVEN minutes.  So, that man died.  Someone’s son died last night, and we failed him.  The EMS workers failed him.  The witnesses that just stood there staring at him failed him.  I failed him.  I am deeply saddened.