On August 1, 2007, I was driving home from work when my mom called. She said, "The bridge just fell into the river!"
I was confused. "What bridge? What river?"
"The bridge over the Mississippi!"
"Mom, the Mississippi is a big river..."
"The FREEWAY fell into the river," she clarified.
I told her I'd see what's going on and call her back later. The local public radio station was covering the disaster, and yes, the freeway did fall into the river.

I grabbed my first aid bag and headed downtown, following a nearby county's Sheriff's truck towing a boat — it was that county's dive team. This was a big deal.

An off-duty paramedic and I set up on a grassy corner a few blocks from the river and rendered aid to people as they came by. We had to decline to sew up a guy's hand. Even if we'd had the right equipment, have you seen me sew on a button?

Eventually we ran out of supplies, so we cleaned up our mess and left. I never even got that medic's last name.

I filled my mom in when I got home. She was excited that I was able to help, though it felt like I did very little compared to the rescue crews working at the river. She was like that, building my confidence and pointing out the positives.

. . . . . . .

I recently went to the MN Fire Museum with a few friends. There's a really nice exhibit about the I-35W Mississippi River bridge collapse. I stood there reading about it and thought, "Boy, Mom will really like this next time she comes out here!"

And then I remembered.