Back in the studio, everyone heard the audio coming across the headset, which had fallen around Bob's neck, and Janet felt as if a knife were turning in her stomach.
“Turn off the camera. Please turn off the camera,” she pleaded with Mark.
“No, not on your life. This is awful, but we've got to get it,” he yelled back at her.
Bill closed his eyes again and shook his head slowly. In the distance, they could hear what sounded like several police sirens.
“Yeah, you're probably right,” the gunman said, pulling his revolver back.
“We love to kill policemen, like we did tonight, but we probably shouldn't hurt the television men, particularly since you've been so good to us,” he smiled, nodding down toward Tom, whose chest was now completely covered in blood.
Richard was in bad shape, but he was driving because he was in better shape than Janet, who sat next to him in the car, and Connie, who was in the back seat. They both burst into tears about a minute after the gunmen drove off, the other police cars arrived, and Bill confirmed with what energy he had left that Officer Talmadge was apparently dead, that young Officer Higgins was terribly wounded and probably wouldn't make it, and that their own Tom Spence was also badly wounded and covered in blood, almost unable to breathe. An ambulance screamed up right behind the patrol cars. Richard was now driving the three of them to the large county hospital where Tom and the two police officers were being taken at high speed.
“Oh, Richard, I feel so terrible,” Janet said holding his handkerchief to her face. “Tom and those poor police officers! And who knows, if you hadn't said something, maybe it would have been Connie and me too.”
“I just can't believe there are people like that in the world,” Connie volunteered in a low voice from the back seat. “People who say there is no devil should watch the tape of what we just saw.” She shook her head, trying to fight back her own tears as well.
They arrived at the hospital only minutes after the ambulance. They parked and walked unsteadily into the emergency room, where they were confronted by a police officer, who told them they would have to stay in the waiting room until he had more information. He was obviously upset by the night's events as well, and though he was pleasant, he was also firm.
“Do you know whether the hospital has a chapel?” Connie asked. Her question seemed to melt him a bit.
“Yeah, there's one just out the door of the waiting room and down the hall on the left. You're welcome to go there, and I'll come and tell you any news. Please pray for these guys,” the officer said.
“We will,” Connie said, and she opened the door to the hallway for Richard and Janet.
The small nondenominational chapel had a center aisle with four rows of pews on each side, three seats per pew. The pews faced a large, beautiful stained-glass window, which took up most of the end wall and was back lit from the other side. No one was in the chapel at the time, so the three of them went to the front row. Richard and Janet knelt on the right, and Connie on the left. They began to pray.
Over the next thirty minutes, more of the Christian believers from the television station, hearing about what had happened, came to the hospital and found their way to the chapel, along with their spouses. At one point the police officer opened the door to the chapel and simply announced to those inside that Officer Talmadge was, in fact, pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. He added that Tom Spence and Officer Higgins were both in operating rooms, hanging on by threads. Soon the chapel was nearly full, and prayers both vocal and silent were lifted up for Tom, for Officer Higgins, for the soul of Officer Talmadge, for their families, for the gunmen, and for all members of the city's emergency teams.
After a while, Janet whispered to Richard that she was going to go look for Tom's wife in the waiting room. Richard nodded, and then slipped out of the chapel with her. Janet, who knew Sandy Spence from several pleasant meetings when she had visited Tom at the station, found her sitting in a back corner of the waiting room, holding hands with a young, pregnant woman. The two of them had their heads bowed in prayer. Janet and Richard walked up quietly and waited for the two women to stop praying. Sandy recognized Janet and stood up, and they hugged. Janet introduced Richard, and Sandy introduced Florence Higgins. Both of the wives had obviously been crying, but Sandy mastered a difficult smile and said to Richard and Janet, “Florence and I had never met before, but we quickly found that we both know the Lord. And so we've been sitting here, talking and praying together for our husbands.”
“There are quite a few people praying with you and for you in the chapel down the hall,” Janet said. “Is it all right if we sit and talk and pray with you?”
“Sure. Certainly. Please,” Florence said, moving her coat to a vacant chair further away so that the four of them could form a small circle.
They talked for the next hour, and both Richard and Janet were frankly amazed by the strength these two women were finding at this almost impossible time in their lives. Both obviously wanted their husbands to live. But both also expressed that their husbands knew the Lord, and that if, God forbid, either one or both of them did pass away that night, they would instantly be in heaven with Christ.
“And you see,” Sandy said to Janet, her eyes filled with tears, “I know someday I will definitely see him again, and we'll spend eternity together, which will make whatever happens tonight, as awful as it may be, seem like only a moment.”
Janet listened and was frankly overwhelmed by what had happened in the last several hours, not to mention the last several weeks. She was particularly awed by the strength and the testimonies of these two women, in whom it was obvious, even to Janet, that the Holy Spirit lived.
A little after midnight, Bill Shaw, Bob Grissom, and Mark Pugh entered the waiting room. Richard, Janet, and the two wives rose to meet them. Bill and Bob had been taken to the police station to make their preliminary statements. When the interrogating officer realized that most of the action was recorded on video tape, he sent a patrol car to the television station to secure a copy of the tape for safekeeping. At that point, Mark also made a statement. Then they went to the hospital, where Bill and Bob were treated for some minor cuts from flying glass. Now they joined the vigil in the waiting room. Everyone knew, without saying so explicitly, that it was not time to talk about the future of “911 Live.” That would come later.
At one in the morning a surgeon joined them and told them that both men were out of surgery, though there was a good chance that both would have to go back within the next few days, if they made it. They were being moved to intensive care for observation and recovery. When asked, he reluctantly estimated that Tom's chances of surviving were about fifty-fifty, while Officer Higgins’ prospects were not as good, due to the number of rounds he had taken. If they survived, both men would be in intensive care for many days. He suggested that all of them, including the men's wives, go home and try to get some sleep, because they could not do much at that point.
There were a few questions, and then the surgeon left. Connie suggested to all of them that they begin a rotating prayer vigil, and Richard was surprised when Janet volunteered for them to take the first watch. One of the other Christians from the station said he would go home, shower, and then come back to relieve the Sullivans in an hour.
The police officer who met them when they arrived at the hospital told Richard the department was already taking care of Mrs. Talmadge and that he would be sure that Sandy Spence and Florence Higgins arrived home safely. Everyone said a sad goodbye and then left for home.
Janet and Richard returned to the now empty chapel. They sat in the front pew, and Janet turned to her husband. “Richard, before we begin praying again for these men and their families, I want you to pray with me. I know now that there must be a God, because only God could have changed you in the way He has in the past few weeks, and only God could give those women the strength they have. I don't understand how things like tonight happen. Maybe someday I will. But I
know that He lives in you, the Merediths, and those two women. And I want Him to forgive me for doubting His existence for so long, for raising our children without knowing Him, and for trying to do everything and be everything myself. Richard—” And she took her husband's hand. “I want to be His child, too, like you are. I want to be able to pray to Him for these men as one of His own, like Sandy and Florence. I want to know that we will be together forever, no matter what happens here on earth. What do I do?”
Richard described what he had done with Court Shullo three weeks before. She nodded, and they knelt on the floor in front of the pew. As best he could, holding her hand, Richard led Janet in the same prayer which he had prayed with Court. Janet, broken by the love she had seen in Richard and the strength she had seen in Sandy, gave herself to the Lord early that morning.
Invisible to both of them, yet very real, the Holy Spirit visited the chapel at that moment and filled it with a brilliant glory that paled the beautiful stained glass into insignificance. Janet was touched by His power, and an invisible eternal flame began to burn in her, matching the one in Richard.
As she finished praying, she thought she had cried all that she could in one night, yet there were apparently a few tears still left inside her. She squeezed her husband's hand even tighter, as she felt the cleansing of her entire past taking place in an instant, and she was born again.
They remained kneeling, holding hands, for several more minutes, then Janet looked at Richard, and they smiled and hugged. They bowed their heads and began praying for the two men in intensive care—and for the men who had put them there.
27
SATURDAY, MAY 27 – Richard and Janet did not return home until a little after 3:00 in the morning. They had called home on several occasions during the long night at the hospital and confirmed that Susan and Tommy were home safely from Tommy's baseball game and from Susan's date. When it appeared they would actually be quite late, Richard called to let them know, and Susan said it would be OK. Tommy came on the line to speak to his father.
“Hey, Dad, you know that double play I almost made, but screwed up at the beginning of the season? Well, it happened again, and this time I made a great throw to first base. We cut off the runner and stopped what looked like a rally for them. We wound up winning five to four. Isn't that great?”
Richard smiled, surrounded by the mayhem and the distress of the emergency room, to know that his children were safe and that his son had made his first double play. Richard choked a little bit and said, “Yes, Tommy, that's just wonderful. I can't wait to hear all the details tomorrow on the way to the Bryants’ mountain home.”
The original plan had been for the two families to leave no later than 9:00 for the Bryants’ home. But Richard and Janet didn't wake up until 8:30. While Janet called the hospital to check on the two men, Richard quickly donned his jogging clothes and walked over to the Bryants’ home, where he knocked on their back door.
Inside, Richard explained to Tom and Nancy all that had happened the night before and asked if they had room in their minivan to take Susan and Tommy with them, while he and Janet checked at the hospital again and then drove up separately in a few hours.
“That'll be fine, Richard,” Tom said, offering to share his eggs and bacon with Richard. “You and Janet do what you have to do, and we'll take care of Susan and Tommy until you get there. We'll try to leave a little clay on the courts for you guys. It sounds like you need a rest, so come up and relax as soon as you can.”
Richard returned home and found the kids dressed and Janet in her bathrobe, throwing together some breakfast. “They're still both alive, and there has been no change in their situation,” Janet said. She had apparently given a brief account to Susan and Tommy, who were unusually subdued for a Saturday morning.
“It's fine with Tom and Nancy to take the kids with them,” Richard said, looking at Susan and Tommy. “Once your mom and I get cleaned up and packed, we'll swing by the hospital and then come on up to the mountains. Tom gave me a map, and we should be there just a few hours behind you. OK?”
“Sure,” said Tommy. “But don't be too late, because I really want to play some tennis with you.”
An hour later, Richard and Janet found themselves back at the hospital, but this time in the waiting room outside the intensive care unit. Sandy and Florence were there, as were some people whom Richard and Janet didn't know, who were personal friends of the two families. As they entered the waiting room, Sandy stood up and walked over to them. “He's still alive,” she said, “and the doctors say that there's hope.” Lowering her voice, she continued, “Officer Higgins is still hanging on, too. But he's apparently in very bad shape. Florence and I pray for both of our husbands every few minutes, and Connie tells me there are still people praying downstairs in the chapel.”
After a few minutes of conversation, Janet said, taking Sandy's hand, “We hate to leave, but we've had this weekend set up with our neighbors and with our kids for weeks. Obviously you'll be in our prayers, and we'll come straight here when we get back in town tomorrow night. We'll find out the telephone number here and call every few hours to check, if you don't mind.”
“That will be fine, Janet. And please do go away with your family. Take all the time you can with them—there's precious little of it. There's really nothing any of us can do now, except pray. And as long as you're doing that, we'll be in good shape,” Sandy smiled.
Kristen awoke early that morning in San Francisco, due to the time difference, and slipped out of Peter's king-sized bed, descending the stairs to his kitchen. After looking around the kitchen for a while, she started a pot of coffee and then, dressed in only a large t-shirt, started making a cheese omelette, bacon, and English muffins.
As the smell from her work drifted upstairs, she heard the floorboards creak when Peter stood up next to the bed and came downstairs, dressed only in his shorts, with a towel around his shoulders taken from the bathroom.
Smiling, she poured him a cup of coffee, handed it to him, and said, “Breakfast is almost ready, but I can't find the grits.”
He returned her smile. “We don't got no grits. But if it will keep you around, I'll send out for some now.”
She smiled even more and thought to herself how nice it was to be wanted.
“But look,” he continued, surveying the stove, “there's nothing healthy in this whole breakfast you've fixed. Are you trying to kill us?”
“Oh, but it will taste so good. And I've got to do my part to keep your strength up. If you're going to keep pleasing me, we've got to feed you hearty food!”
Coming around the island in the middle of the kitchen, he pulled her to him.
“Will food like this keep for a while?” he asked, looking down at her and smiling.
Her own feelings starting to match his, she managed to ask as he carried her over to the large sofa in the living room, “Do you have a microwave?”
The drive up to their mountain house took about three hours, and the Bryants made it with Amy and the two Sullivan teenagers with no problem, even though their minivan was a bit crowded. Tom Bryant, who had loved all sports as a child and still enjoyed tennis, golf, and jogging in his midforties, had never had a son. Amy was their only child. Over the years he had enjoyed being included in some of Tommy's sporting events, and had even volunteered to coach Tommy's soccer team when Tommy was in third grade. Nancy Bryant knew Tommy was her husband's surrogate son, so she volunteered to sit in the middle seat of the van to chat with the two teenage girls while “the boys” took the front seats to discuss whatever it was that men and boys discussed. Her insight proved a wise one, because Tommy soon opened up. In no time her husband knew everything about Tommy's baseball team and all of its players. As she listened to the two of them talking, she knew her husband loved playing this role.
Nancy used the time to read a few pages in the novel she was nursing and to catch up on what she could find out about Amy and Amy's two best friends, who would shortly
be seniors in high school. Aware of a growing aloofness in Amy over the past few weeks, Nancy hoped that perhaps this weekend she could find out what had been bothering her daughter. But she received no clue during their drive.
Nancy couldn't believe that their only child was seventeen and soon to be a senior. She and Tom had always wanted more children, but it was not to be. After years of trying, they'd considered adoption, but the waiting and/or the cost just appeared to be too great. So they decided to concentrate on raising Amy as best they could. And having only one child freed some financial resources, making, for example, their mountain home more possible.
By the time they arrived and unpacked, everyone was hungry for lunch. Not long after inhaling some sandwiches, Tommy was changing into his tennis gear and challenging Tom Bryant to a match. Tom smiled and said, “Hey, when you get to be my age, you've got to wait a few minutes after lunch. Call down to the tennis center and see if you can reserve a court for three o'clock. Maybe your dad will be here by then, so we can play round robin, if the girls don't join us.”
Richard and Janet did, in fact, arrive just before three. While Tommy impatiently watched the “Game of the Week” on television, dressed in his tennis clothes, Tom and Nancy gave Richard and Janet a brief tour of their new home. There were three bedrooms and two porches. Susan and Amy shared the upstairs bedroom, and the couples had bedrooms on either side of the living room, while Tommy had his choice of the sofas.
Pushed by Tommy, the men were soon out the door in their tennis clothes, leaving the house to the two wives and their two daughters.
Nancy Bryant asked Janet to sit with her on the sofa in the living room, looking out across the wide expanse of mountains and the long valley, leading to another range in the distance. Janet then told Nancy in more detail about the “911 Live” test during the previous night and morning.
On the Edge Page 46