As the operations manager for Thanksgiving! Lutheran Church, Harold Carlson had a number of things on his mind on 28th December 2009 – clearing the parking lot from the Christmas snowstorm, preparing for the annual fiscal report that was less than a month away, managing the day-to-day functions of the church.
Harold’s son, Rob Carlson, also works at T!LC. As a jack-of-all-trades handyman, Rob Carlson answers directly to his father but, on any given day, may be on the other side of the church grounds and only see him a handful of times.
Having just unloaded the first pallet of salt, Harold and Rob slid into the pickup at a few minutes before 4 p.m. to make another run. Driving up the road leading away from the church, Rob said he and his dad were just having a normal conversation toward the end of a long day.
As he turned the corner on to Lexington Avenue and headed toward the intersection of 36th Street, though, everything changed.
When Harold slouched over, Rob said his first thought was that his dad might just be nodding off after a strenuous afternoon. But when he started gasping for breath, Rob knew something was wrong with his father.
Rob Carlson didn’t even turn the truck around. Throwing it into reverse, he made his way back Lexington Avenue, rushing to get help for his father. The first person he came upon was Bob Belsaas, a part-time maintenance man at the church, the Air Force retiree and Vietnam veteran.
Rob told him something was wrong with his dad and that he needed help. As Rob drove the truck back toward the T!LC offices, Belsaas parked his tractor and ran in the same direction.
Susan Westland was wrapping up her first day as a vicar at T!LC. At the offices, she was gathering her things in anticipation of her son coming to pick her up when, all of a sudden she heard a scream from one of the office workers in the front. Someone was yelling for help.
Westland ran to the front of the building where Rob Carlson told her that his dad was in the truck unresponsive. As Rob called 911, Westland rushed out where, seeing Harold’s ashen face and recognizing that look from a similar situation she’d been in years before, she realized that he was in terrible trouble and immediately checked for a pulse.
There was none.
Belsaas had arrived at the truck and the two of them proceeded to lift Harold and lay him on top of their coats on the ground outside of the T!LC offices.
“I prayed to God and I said, ‘God, this is not working,’” Westland recalled of the moment she knew that Harold could be dying right in front of her on that cold sidewalk. “Instantly I saw the letters ‘AED’ flash into my head and I said out loud, ‘AED, AED, I wish we had an AED machine.’ Rob was standing behind me and he said, ‘We do.’”
Covering the 150 yards from the offices to the church in what must have seemed to him like an eternity but what Westland and Belsaas called an instant, Rob Carlson retrieved the defibrillator. Just as they were starting to set it up and attach the electrodes to Harold’s chest, a paramedic from the Bellevue Fire Department arrived at the scene.
Having heard the emergency call go out, the paramedic, instead of first responding to the fire station, had recognized the address and gone straight to the church. Westland and the paramedic attached the device to Harold’s chest, administering a first shock to his heart.
Right around that time, the Bellevue rescue squad arrived at the scene and took over.
Harold was transported to Midlands Hospital where he was stabilized. He was then taken to Bergan Mercy Medical Center where he underwent quadruple bypass surgery.
He choked back tears as he acknowledged everyone who had been involved in saving his life, saying he was not afraid of death but feared leaving behind a loving wife, three wonderful sons, their wives and eight grandchildren who, like he had, might only have remembered their grandfather through pictures and stories.
“Then you realize how precious life really is,” he said. “And how quickly it can be taken from you.”