From Community Joy to Crisis Response: A Night to Remember

I ended my workday surrounded by the vibrant energy of downtown neighborhood events—laughter, smiles, and the comforting buzz of community. One event after another, we shared good company, free food, and plenty of hydration under the summer sky.

As I began my short walk to head homeward, winding down from the festivities, a man walking briskly by stated pressingly that ‘someone was overdosing in the alleyway’ I was about to pass. I wasn’t in any profession defining apparel—just plain clothes blending into the crowd.

I immediately thought of two staff members I knew were nearby, each carrying Narcan. But they were still at the event, immersed in the music and laughter I’d just walked away from. I called my trusted work partner, who quickly grabbed a Narcan kit from one of our teammates and ran to meet me.

When I got to the scene, I saw the man lying on his back on a set of steps. His eyes were rolled back. For a second, I feared the worst—he might already be gone. Then, suddenly, a deep gasp escaped from his lungs. Relief rushed over me. He was still with us.

We gave the first dose of Narcan. No change. I performed a sternum rub, and a second dose was administered. Still, no movement—just those slow, heavy breaths that signaled his body was still trying.

At that moment, a squad car arrived from the opposite end of the alley. I flagged them down—thankfully, because none of my calls to dispatch had gone through. I gave the officers a quick rundown and stepped back as they took over.

There was still no response. The back of his head was bloody—likely from hitting the steps during his collapse. Medics were requested immediately, and in no time, emergency responders arrived and rescued him. He was alive. Safe. For now, he gets another chance at life. Another day to fight.

The end.