Does He Remember
Sixty-seven years ago, my family lived in Valdosta, Georgia, home of Moody AFB and some of the best damn high school football in the Nation. Don't know if Moody has survived the 'evolution' of the AF or not, but the football has. Describing where we lived as 'suburban' means we lived on the fringe of town. Three blocks further away and you were in the country. Our house was one of about 30 or 40 small brick homes in the addition that varied in size from 800sf to 1200sf. Adjacent to the addition, a new addition was being developed. The new addition was separated from ours by a dense tree row about 200 feet wide. Those homes were set back from the streets more and the lots were bigger.....so were the houses. Looking back, I would guess these homes ranged from 1500sf to 2000sf two stories or split level and they all had garages, not carports. One particular cul-de-sac consisted of only two-story homes.
The plot thickens. On this particular day...and it wasn't Sunday...no one was working at the addition. Normally, on week days, there were several men working on the homes in the cul-de-sac. We would watch after school. Don't know what was going on; but it gave five kids, ages 7-10, a chance to climb and jump and use our imaginations. Apparently, the house at the very back was to be the last house build. Maybe the lot wasn't sold. Who knows? Anyway, that's where the huge...HUGE... sand pile was, right next to the two story house next door. If was about 9 or 10 feet high. We had watched the dump trucks bring all that sand in earlier that morning. Chris Heinz and I climbed up the framing of the adjacent house, to the point of the rafters. We were looking down at the pile of sand from a height of about twenty-two or twenty-three feet. We had decided to jump from the roof peak into the pile. It was only a jump of 13 or 14 and a soft landing was assured. Chris wanted to go first and the other kids were urging us to jump. Of course, they didn't have the 'hair' to climb up there and jump. So, with his arms held tightly at his sides, Chris closed his eyes and jumped. Instead of landing softly in the sand, he disappeared into the pile. For a few moments, I couldn't believe it. When I could believe it, he still was not emerging from the sand. I waited another few seconds. Even now, I remember how long those seconds were. When the Hell is he coming out! If I had used language like that when I was eight, I would have. It was a couple more years before I started getting the hang of it. Not knowing or understanding what had happened, but knowing that he must be trapped in there, I jumped. As I landed, my feet felt something solid beneath me. It was Chris. I frantically dug him out and pulled him up. He was coughing and gagging, spitting sand. He was gasping for air, "I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe." He couldn't see very well either. Sand was in his eyes. The girl with us, Linda Bus, told him to keep his eyes closed and not to rub them. She previously had an experience with sand in her eyes. There was a hose available and we washed his eyes, ears and mouth and throat the best we could. We must have done a good job; because, even though Chris’ eyes were still very red, we all went back to climbing around and trying to figure out what the rooms were going to be.
Later that evening, right after my bed time, Mr.and Mrs. Heinz came to our house. I heard Mrs Heinz emotionally talking to my parents about what had happened that day. I remember hoping I wasn't in trouble for going over to the houses. My Dad came to my room. He was smiling...big. He took me to the living room where Mrs. Heinz burst into tears and grabbed me and held me very close and very tightly. While sobbing, she kept saying, "Thank you, Buzz. Thank you. Thank you for my boy." Finally, she kissed me and let me go. As she arose, wiping her eyes, she looked at my parents and said, "You should be very proud." My Dad said, "Oh, we are....and thanks for coming by." Once more, she looked at me and smiled a soft smile and said, "Thank you." Later, my Dad said, "Son, you were a hero “. There was no explanation, just big hugs and smiles on my parent's faces.
You see, it never really occurred to me until I overheard Mrs. Heinz talking to my parents that I had saved Chris's life. It really didn't sink in until I saw Chris the next day. He re-asserted what he had said the day before. He told me he couldn't move his arms enough to dig out and he couldn't breathe. My Dad had told me that when they dumped load after load of the sand that an air pocket is formed, probably between loads. When Chris jumped, he hit an air pocket in the sand and was swallowed up. Since he filled the void, the rest of the sand collapses into any part of the void still open. Since he had jumped with his hands at his sides, he was pinned and helpless.
I had never been hugged by a boy before. Chris hugged me hard and thanked me again. Linda Bus gave me a hug too. She was a service brat like me…and pretty cute too…for a girl. She was Billy Touchton’s first true love. He was hurt when her family was transferred to Maxwell AFB, Alabama. Anyway, Linda told our teacher about the incident, and I got even more attention. Personally, I was happier about my parent's approval and respect than anything else. Best of all, my Dad had call me a “hero.”
I do wonder once in a while if Chris is still alive and if he remembers that day.
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