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It seemed as if his life was slipping away, and I felt a profound sense of sadness. When he heard me say the word, “Jesus,” he squeezed my hand.
Finally, a Baltimore County police officer appeared, kneeling beside us. Together, she and I were able to remove the young man’s shirt, exposing his chest and his terrible knife wounds.
An emergency medical team soon followed to take him to a hospital.
As the medical technicians carried him away, I looked into his eyes for the last time; and I saw a sense of kinship – and fear.
When the ambulance was gone, I knew that this young man and I had shared a moment that was very, very deep and personal – and I realized that I did not even know his name . . . .
Later, from the news reports, I learned that this brave young man, named Carlos Santay-Carillo, had not survived. I also learned that his wife, Claudia, had been in labor, preparing to give birth to their son, even as Carlos lay dying.
Read the full article; it’s really brief. Not many will have a life-changing moment like this. The better of us would do what the congressman did; others of us would probably go to the hospital for a photo-op with the new widow.
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