But Who Remembers

"It was August 17th, 1979 at 11:36 in the morning, a beautiful Friday in summer." telling the lead in for the thousandth or millionth time. I had told of the event so many times that my responses were on auto pilot. "Where did you get shot" was the question, "Anatomically or geographically?" my reply. Over and over through the years.



It was of course a life changing instant.



The lead up to the luckiest and worst day of my life was pretty basic for a detective in the DA's Squad. In the predawn hours surveillance had been established with a partner not of my choosing, or liking if truth be told, on a subject in a long term organized crime investigation.



By 8AM the subject has left his home and been followed to the old Pan Am Building. You know the one that straddles Grand Central Station, but now bares some other corporate logo and name. Being statisfied that the subject was no longer of interest that day surveillance was broken off as we were headiing to the office to report. A quick hot dog at the street vendor and we were on our way.



The world changed on 42nd Street.



As we turned into Park Avenue South we say a uniform Police Officer running north with his radio to his mouth, obviously sending a urgent message. Pulling to the curb and identifying ourselves he yelled to us "Bank Stick Up, there he is" pointing back towards 42nd Strett. Sure enough we could see the perpetrator running away. Being the youngest of the three of us I was able to not only join the chase but actually take the lead.



A long arcing series of doors wraps the southwest entrance of Grand Central Station and our man was heading right for them. I knew that once inside we might lose him. I raced to the doors just behind him. I was astonished as I flew through the door, he was not on the ramp leading down in the station proper. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimsed a store entrance that was directly to the right on the ramp. My brain and feet made the same decision at the same time and I verved sharply into the store entrance. Big mistake. My speed had put me face to face with the bank robber. He had stopped and turned and was standing with gun in hand and fired as soon as I turned the corner.



I hadn't been able to utter a word, make any meaningful move, defensive or otherwise. Although I didn't hear the shot, I saw the bullet leave the barrel of the gun. The dark black projectile was surrounded by the muzzle flash as it exited the pistol. It played out in super slow motion, I can still see it today. Simultaneously I was slammed backwards as the bullet entered my chest. with the force of the most God awful punch. My partner now directly behind me pulled me back out of the store vestibule to safety.



Seated on the floor, I placed my hand on the entrance wound and saw the blood begin to trickle through my fingers. A strange calmness passed over me. The seriousness of the situation was not lost on me. Yet my brain quickly put my house in order. "Dear God, I am sorrry for all my sins, I tired but if it wasn't good enough I am sorry." An even greater calm transended. The tranquility of a mountain lake at sunrise, like glass relecting the first rays of the new days sun prevaded my being as I waited for death.