“I was driving home from work when I heard about Jason being shot,” said Tonya Fishburn, Jason’s wife, an employee of the Marion County Crime Lab. “I was trying to get ahold of Jason because I saw a lot of police cars speeding by me. Then Dennis, Jason’s father, called me. He told me that Jason had been shot and that I should get to Wishard Hospital right away.”
Naturally, no one ever wants to receive such news. Although Tonya immediately started for the hospital, she was nearly overcome with panic and worry.
“I started toward Wishard Hospital, and of course I was pretty hysterical at the time,” said Tonya. “One of the officers called me and told me to pull over, and then she drove me to the hospital.”
The officer, who knew Fishburn’s wife because of Tonya’s job at the crime lab, sped to the hospital as quickly as she could. During the drive, the officer wanted to comfort and reassure Tonya, but it was hard under the circumstances—no one really knew how bad it was, or if her husband would even be alive when they arrived there. Once at the hospital, the officer took Tonya through the waiting room and into the emergency room, where the doctors had Officer Fishburn in Shock Room 4.
“It’s kind of a blur, but there were just a lot of officers at the hospital,” said Tonya. “It was almost overwhelming, the number of people there.”
Jason’s father, Dennis Fishburn, had already arrived at the hospital and was waiting there for Tonya. He had received a call from his brother Darin, who worked for the Fraternal Order of Police, and who told him to get to the hospital right away.
“I was visiting a friend from church when my cell phone went off,” said Dennis Fishburn. “I stepped into the kitchen and answered it. It was Darin. He told me that he’d been in a meeting and heard about Jason’s situation. So he left the meeting to give me the bad news. He told me that not only had Jason been shot, but that he had been shot in the head. It was a terrible phone call. Just one you don’t want to get, not knowing the outcome.” Dennis, a sergeant at the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department, had been a police officer for a long time. He knew how devastating gunshot wounds to the head could be.
After calling his daughter-in-law Tonya, Dennis made another difficult phone call. “It was about 7:45 at night,” said Dennis. “My wife was in Columbus, Ohio. Our [other] son, who is on the Columbus, Ohio, Police Department, and his wife had just given birth to their second child. My wife was there to help with our two-year-old granddaughter. So I had to give her a call, and she was able to drive back and meet us at Wishard Hospital later that night.”
Following the two phone calls, Dennis sped to the hospital, expecting the worst.
“My first thoughts,” said Dennis, “were that I would go to Wishard Hospital and they’d say that Jason had fought a valiant fight, that they’d done all they could, but that he had died.”
But remarkably, Jason Fishburn was still alive.
It didn’t take long for the news of Fishburn’s shooting to reach the public safety community. Many police officers, firefighters, and other emergency workers, learning of the shooting and wanting to show their support, had rushed to Wishard Memorial Hospital. “When my daughter and I got to the hospital,” Dennis said, “there was a sea of blue uniforms; there were police everywhere.”
As the members of Officer Jason Fishburn’s family arrived at Wishard Memorial Hospital, the staff put them in a special family waiting room. Along with Jason’s wife and mother and father, many other relatives also showed up at the hospital, including in-laws, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. No one knew much about what had happened except that Fishburn had been shot in the head. They didn’t know how serious his injury was, what his prognosis was, or what the doctors intended to do.
“Jason had gotten there before I did, and so we were all just waiting around for the doctors to come in, just waiting to hear how Jason was and what was going on,” recalled Tonya.
Unfortunately, the doctors didn’t have good news for the family. “Few people who suffer head wounds this serious survive,” the doctors at Wishard Memorial Hospital told the family gathered there. “But if we’re going to have any chance at all of saving him, he needs to go to surgery right now.”
The head of the surgical team that would operate on Fishburn, Dr. Richard Rogers, was a member of Wishard Memorial Hospital’s top neurosurgery team. An assistant professor of neurological surgery at the Indiana University School of Medicine, Dr. Rogers was also chief of surgery at Indiana University Health West Hospital. Yet even with all of his credentials and experience, Dr. Rogers didn’t hold out much hope for Fishburn’s survival.
“The majority of people who have a gunshot wound to the brain [like Officer Fishburn’s] do not survive,” Dr. Rogers told the news media, “so for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours or so, our goal is to do everything to allow that patient to survive that injury.” The gunshot wound to the left side of his head was described as “devastating.” Fishburn had also suffered a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen, though that impact had largely been absorbed by the bulletproof vest he wore.
“The doctors came in pretty quickly after Tonya had gotten there,” said Dennis Fishburn. “Dr. Rogers told us that Jason was critically injured and that they didn’t know if he was going to make it or not. The doctor said that Jason had to have surgery right away if he was going to have any chance at all of living. The doctor also said that he couldn’t promise us that Jason would make it through the surgery. He said that they’d do their best, but without surgery Jason would certainly die. Dr. Rogers also told us that Jason’s brain was swelling and that they had to get in there and not only clean up where the bullet had penetrated, but also take off that section of his cranium, the whole left side of his head, to allow his brain to expand. And if they didn’t do that right away he would certainly die.”
“The doctors told us that Jason had been shot in the head, and that his condition was extremely critical,” said Tonya. “His father had wanted him to have a blessing first from our church, but the doctors said there was no time. They had to do surgery right away. Really, what I thought was that they were preparing us for the fact that he probably wouldn’t survive the surgery. They said that most people with a wound like his didn’t survive.”
However, Dr. Rogers wasn’t through yet with the bad news. “Dr. Rogers also said that even if Jason did make it through the operation, he still couldn’t guarantee his recovery,” Dennis said. “Many things could still go wrong. If he survived the surgery, the doctor said that Jason would be put into an induced coma for at least forty-eight hours. They didn’t want any movement at all from him. They would need him to be completely still. So Tonya signed the paperwork and off he went to surgery.” The family all agreed that his fate was now in God’s hands, and each said a prayer for him.
The family of Officer Fishburn, of course, was devastated by Dr. Rogers’s prognosis but also knew that there was really no choice at all about having the surgery done. It was Fishburn’s only chance. And he was young and in good health, which Dr. Rogers had said would help his odds. But even more important, because Fishburn had been transported to the hospital so quickly after the shooting, and had received such good trauma care on the scene, his chances were better than average. His brain hadn’t had much time to swell, which is one of the leading causes of death with this type of injury.
There was nothing else the family could do but simply settle in for the long wait. But it wasn’t an easy wait. And though all of the family members in the waiting room tried to keep up a brave face, in each of their minds they feared that at any moment the doctor would return and tell them that Jason Fishburn hadn’t made it.
EIGHT
After being treated at the hospital for his shoulder injury, Brian Reese had been transported back to police headquarters, even though the staff at Wishard Memorial Hospital had given him some strong painkillers. After Brian sat all night in an interrogation r
oom, the police sent him over to the Marion County Jail, just a block south of police headquarters. The Marion County Prosecutor’s Office at this point wasn’t sure what Brian would end up being charged with in the Fishburn shooting. Right now, the prosecutor could charge him with attempted murder, but the prognosis for Officer Jason Fishburn, they learned, was not good at all, and if Fishburn died, it would become murder. They decided to wait a bit. Brian wasn’t going anywhere anyway, given all the other charges on him. His mother, Barbara Reese, also sat in jail, waiting for her first court appearance on the resisting law enforcement and obstruction of justice charges.
Meanwhile, back at Wishard Memorial Hospital, Officer Jason Fishburn’s family prayed for him constantly, reflecting on what a good person he was. Before becoming a police officer at age twenty-four, Fishburn had spent two years as a missionary. He’d always been softhearted, and had twice brought home stray dogs he had encountered while on patrol.
The Fishburns were a law enforcement family. Not only did Jason’s father, Dennis, also work for the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department, but his wife, Tonya, worked for the Marion County Crime Lab; his brother worked as a police officer in Columbus, Ohio; an uncle had retired after working as a deputy U.S. Marshal; an aunt was a retired police officer; and an aunt and uncle both worked for the local Fraternal Order of Police. Police families know that these sorts of things can happen, but still no one is really prepared for it—and it didn’t make the waiting any easier.
After two and a half hours in surgery, Dr. Richard Rogers returned to the waiting room with good news for the Fishburn family: Jason had made it through the operation. Surgeons had had to remove part of Fishburn’s skull in order to relieve the pressure from swelling, and because of this, and because he was now in such a fragile state, they had put Fishburn into an induced coma to help with his recovery. The doctor also warned that the next few days to a week would be critical to Fishburn’s survival. He explained to them that Fishburn had lost 10 percent of his brain to the gunshot and surgery, and that now there was a real danger of infection and blood clotting. The doctor warned the family to be prepared, because there were just so many things that could still go wrong.
“Dr. Rogers came back in and told us that Jason had made it through the surgery,” said Dennis, Jason Fishburn’s father. “He said that the next forty-eight hours would be extremely critical to his survival, but that he could not give us any guarantee as to whether Jason would make it or not, only time would tell. They’d done all they could do at present.”
But even with Dr. Rogers’s warning, Fishburn’s family couldn’t help but believe that a miracle had happened. No matter what the doctor said about Fishburn’s chances of survival, the family now had some real hope.
During a press conference later at the hospital, Dr. Rogers gave much of the same news to the public. “We want people to be cautiously optimistic, but not give people false hope,” he said.
Like Fishburn’s family, his fellow police officers couldn’t help but also believe that a miracle was possible. A police department spokesperson told the news media that “[Fishburn] hasn’t given up, so we aren’t abandoning hope.”
On the day following the operation, Dr. Rogers and several other physicians on the surgical team held another press conference. Dr. Rogers told those attending it that he and his team were now cautiously optimistic about Fishburn’s survival, but also warned that many things could still go wrong. “His condition is still guarded,” Dr. Gerardo Gomez, director of Wishard Memorial Hospital’s Level I Trauma Center, told those at the press conference. “Our main concern is survival.”
Dennis asked those at the news conference to pray for his son. “I am a firm believer in the power of prayer,” he said. He believed that prayer had helped his son survive the operation, and would also help him make a recovery.
The night before, Greg Ballard, the mayor of Indianapolis, had been attending the opening ceremonies for the Indiana Black Expo, which were being held at the Light of the World Christian Church, when he learned of Officer Fishburn’s shooting. He told the gathering about it and said, “It doesn’t look good.” Also that night, a group of citizens, after learning of the incident, organized a prayer vigil on the parking lot of the Linwood Square Shopping Center, where the foot chase had begun. The dozens who attended this impromptu service prayed for Fishburn’s survival and for his family.
On this night, a local church organized a prayer vigil outside the hospital, which scores of people attended, and several hundred people also showed up for a blood drive organized in Fishburn’s name. All of Fishburn’s family members prayed that the miracle wouldn’t end.
Because of Fishburn’s precarious state, his family camped out at the hospital as he remained in the medically induced coma.
“It kind of felt like the whole world had stopped,” Tonya recalled. “Your whole world existed right there in that hospital room. They told us not to pay any attention to the monitors or anything else going on, but you couldn’t help it. Anytime his blood pressure alarm went off I stopped breathing, and couldn’t breathe again until the alarm had stopped. I was constantly on edge, doing a lot of praying. I kind of lost track of time. I didn’t know if it was day or night. I was in my own little world worrying about Jason.”
Fortunately, Fishburn’s family received a tremendous amount of support. As the family waited at the hospital, members of the church the Fishburns attended sent food to the hospital for them, and even mowed their lawn so that the family wouldn’t have to leave the hospital. “The support Jason received was phenomenal,” said his father. “Lots of members of our church showed up and so did a lot of police officers. I remember that for several days there was just a constant sea of blue uniforms in the hospital. The chief of police visited us, the public safety director visited us, and even the mayor came. The mayor usually travels with a security detail, and the first time he visited us he came with them. But there were a couple of times that he and his wife would come early in the morning or late at night without his security. They would come and sit and talk with us for a while.”
But despite the support, Dennis had a tough time initially. “The first few days really took a toll on me. When I first got there I thought I’d be told that my son had died. When I did get there and heard the circumstances of what had happened I started getting really angry. I knew that the suspect who had shot my son had been in that same hospital. And I have to tell you, I had some bad feelings toward that individual, even to the point where I said I’d like to have five minutes alone with him for what he had done to my son.
“I became full of anger,” Dennis went on, “full of hate for the man who had shot my son. But around 5:00 A.M. the morning after Jason had come out of the surgery, I was still thinking about Brian Reese. And suddenly I knew that I didn’t have a good relationship with God. I was thinking too much about my hatred for the man who had shot Jason. So I went down to the hospital chapel and I prayed. I realized that I had to let go of the hate. The only way to help Jason was to clear my mind of it. I felt that God wanted us to be strong. He would make the decision as to whether Jason would make it or not, and whatever that decision would be, it’d be in God’s hands, and we’d accept it.
“Jason and I have always had a great relationship, and my wife and I and Tonya were at the hospital all day every day,” continued Dennis. “We took courage in Jason’s fight. It helped us stay strong. I felt that Jason could hear us. I don’t know if that’s medically true or not, but we always spoke to him, talked to him, encouraged him. We kept telling him that he was going to be all right.”
On Saturday, July 12, 2008, two days after the shooting, hundreds of people attended another prayer vigil held outside the hospital. Indianapolis mayor Greg Ballard addressed the crowd and thanked them for their support of Officer Fishburn. Near the same time, Fishburn’s family reported what they saw as significant progress. Even though Jason was still
in the induced coma, they noticed movement in his eyes and fingers, and they said that he raised his left hand slightly when his mother touched him. A friend who had visited Fishburn at the hospital also told the news media that Fishburn had tried to remove some tape on his arm that was apparently bothering him. The family couldn’t help but be encouraged.
After three days, the doctors took Fishburn out of the induced coma but warned that even though things looked optimistic, many, many things could still go wrong—at any moment Fishburn could die suddenly from a number of different causes. “The doctors told us that they still had worries about infection, pneumonia, blot clots, and a dozen other things that could go wrong,” said Dennis. “They said that there were still all kinds of things they had to be very careful about.” The doctors told them that Fishburn’s condition was too delicate to guarantee anything.
In addition to having to worry about the doctors’ dire warnings, Fishburn’s family could also see clear evidence of how badly the gunshot wound had affected his body. “Once they took him out of the induced coma, we watched him move, and noticed that all he could move was mostly his left side. He could move his right leg a little, but his right arm was dormant, didn’t move at all,” said Dennis.
Despite the doctors’ cautions, Fishburn refused to give up and continued to show signs of improvement. Once he had passed the seventy-two-hour mark, during which time most patients with this type of massive head wound die, the doctors changed their focus to recovery, though they warned that it would still be long and difficult. No one knew yet the true extent of the injury Fishburn had suffered and how much it would affect his recovery.
Killers in the Family Page 10