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National EMS Memorial Bike Ride Commemorates Fallen EMS Workers
Someone once said “parting is such sweet sorrow.” That is how I felt on my ride home from the 15th annual National EMS Memorial Bike Ride (NEMSMBR), also known as the Muddy Angels. My fellow riders and I rode the 522-mile bicycle ride to remember and honor fellow EMS providers that lost their lives in the line of duty.
Traveling back to Paintsville, Ky., the excitement built in anticipation of the upcoming seven days of bicycling riding through the mountains of eastern Kentucky and southwest Virginia, north through the Shenandoah Valley, to Baltimore, Md. That is where we met with 120-plus other bicyclists in our rolling memorial and tribute. We traveled 62 more miles to Alexandria, Va. We rode for 72 honorees, those who have died.
This year’s ride had special meaning for me. I rode for Brian Flynn. Brian was a friend, co-worker and mentor not only to me but to numerous EMS providers who crossed his path. Brian and I first met while we were both in Paramedic school.
Brian started having abdomen pain while studying for his nursing degree. At work one day in the emergency room, the pain was overpowering. That is when the cancer was discovered. He fought a brave fight for four years.
Brian died from his cancer on December 7, 2014. He is missed not only by family, friends and co-workers, but by numerous EMS providers whom he taught and mentored.
This ride was a form of closure for me. We had worked together for several years and formed a good friendship. We also enjoyed a few golfing excursions with co-workers. Brian was a lot of fun to be around with his quick, easy smile and sharp wit.
The Kentucky ride was a challenging route that drew few riders due to the mystery of the mountains that have to be crossed. There is no mystery to crossing the mountains, it is one peddle stroke after another maintaining a pace, no matter how slow, to get to the top. After all, it is all about the journey.
We had nine riders this year. Robin Weeks and her husband John, who also did support, Mark Pedersen, Matt Straley, Anthony Snyder, Lynn Buleh, Deveron Miliene, Ken Turner MD, Lisa Johnson and me. Our support personnel was Bryan Kimberlan, who was also the route organizer and coordinator, Bob Johnson (Lisa’s husband) and Taylor Hauschildt.
Matt and Anthony are from Chicago and work as paramedics for Chicago Fire. Over the past few years, they have done several long distance charity rides and are strong riders. They came to Kentucky because it was easy for them to make the trip, and their dedication to the cause of honoring fallen EMS providers.
Matt felt that even though there is funeral recognition for fire and police, there is not the same recognition for loss of life in EMS. He wanted to give that recognition.
They both came to the ride with minimal expectations, and were pleasantly surprised by the volunteer squads we visited along the way. They were impressed with the apparatus and equipment these squads have and with the openness and friendliness of the members of the squads. They both spent time speaking with the members, swapping stories of the calls they all have made.
Taylor started doing support last year on the east coast ride. She quickly realized what this ride means not only to the riders, but to the family, friends and co-workers of the fallen. This year she nominated her mother, Kay, who passed away from cancer. Kay was very active in EMS in the Christenburg, Va. area. She was the first female attendant on Christenburg Rescue, one of the reasons that Lynn and Deveron rode the Kentucky route this year. They are both members of Christenburg Rescue, and they had taken classes from Kay and worked alongside her.
John Dwyer made his first trip to Kentucky this year. John has ridden the east coast route for the past eight years and was the east coast route coordinator. John came to the smaller group for the closeness and camaraderie that comes with that. John had the distinction of being the oldest rider of the group at the age of 71. In the last ten years he has put 30,000 miles on his bicycle with some repairs along the way.
We had turkey vultures circling over us for the whole ride. Did they know something that we didn’t know? Were they watching the riders below them crawling slowly over the mountains with sweat, tears and, at times, rain running down their faces, each in their own thoughts? Then again, there was lots of roadkill along the way; it seemed like more small animals than usual this year. We also had a black bear sighting. Unfortunately, he had been struck by a vehicle and was dead on the side of the road.
We had another person stopped by the Virginia state troopers this year, but they were driving a vehicle, not riding a bicycle like when I was stopped by the troopers several years ago. Robin was driving one of the support vehicles with a red flashing light on the roof. She was pulled over because of the red light. The trooper told her that he had had complaints of vehicles using the “flashing red light” following a “bunch of bicycles.” It seems that red lights are reserved for fire firefighters in Virginia. After he explained this to Robin, she informed him that she was a firefighter and produced her ID card. At that point he didn’t know what to do. Robin also explained why the bicyclists were on the road and the reason we were all riding. She directed him to Bryan if he had questions. The trooper told Robin to continue using the light and went in search of Bryan. It seems that they knew each other. It all worked out, and we were able to keep using the red lights. The trooper kept checking on us for the rest of the day to make sure we were safe.
My friend Mark Pedersen rode Kentucky for the first time; he has ridden the east coast for the past two years. He was looking for a change and a challenge, and he found both. He took the mountains of Kentucky head on and did excellent. I found that he is a much stronger rider than I had thought. Mark rode this year for one of the members from the department he belongs to, Nottingham NH Fire and Rescue. Diane Nugent lost her life after returning home from a rescue call during one of the numerous snow storms we had this past winter. She succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning.
For me, this ride was a reaffirmation of why I keep coming back: the meeting of families, squads and the memories of the fallen. Many times I had tears rolling down my cheeks not only thinking of Brian, but of the others that I have ridden for, both people that I knew and strangers. I felt the void that these losses have left in me.
In the five years that I have ridden the Kentucky route, I have watched Bryan give his dog tags, which we wear for the fallen, to a family member. I witnessed this again this year as Bryan gave his tag, the one he wore of a personal friend, co-worker Douglas Wayne "Bo" Hall, to Bo’s mother. Bo didn’t show up for work one day. When co-workers went to his home to check on him, they found him dead on the floor.
I also gave my dog tag to family members along the ride. This is one of the most difficult things that I have ever done. The emotions run so high, and the tears flow freely. What do you say to them except that you are sorry for their loss, that their loved ones will always be remembered? It seems to be such a little gesture, but it means so much to the families.
The support personnel are the unsung heroes who don’t get the recognition that the riders do. There is no news coverage of them. They are stealthy marvels that rise early, organize the meals and rest stops and load and unload the bikes and luggage on and off the vehicles. They work hard clearly marking the routes for the riders to follow through the cities and country side. Then, if they are lucky, they get into bed in the middle of the night. Without this group of people volunteering their collective time this event wouldn’t happen. I humbly thank each and every one of them for their service to make these rides a success.
Did we travel? Yes we did. 522 miles with a total elevation gain of 26,000 feet. As a unit, we rode through heat, humidity and rain, from Paintsville, Ky. to Harrisonburg, Va. On the final day we met up with the east coast riders for the final leg from Baltimore Md. to Alexander Va.
And the bitter part? It's leaving at the end to travel home. Each group forms a bond during the ride. Some of us return each year for this event and meet up with friends we have made, and we pick right up from where we left off the previous year. We meet new riders and over several days and mold ourselves into family, helping and encouraging each other along when the riding gets tough.. Along with this is the emotional aspect of meeting the squads who have lost a member or a family member who has lost a loved one. We listen and support them in their grieving, letting them know that they are not alone in this, and there are others who will not let their lost ones be forgotten when they can’t go home.
But we as riders and support do get to go home to our families and loved ones. It can be a long time for our families, a week or more for most of us. But we know that our families support us in what we do.
Until next year, stay safe.