Saturday, 20 October 2007

Blown off our feet


The kids and I have been at a country fair today whilst Miche was working. The sprogs enjoyed it, though it was the usual "locally produced beef" kind of affair. We had a bit of excitement before lunch however, when Meg spotted a helicopter flying towards us.

"Dad! Look, it's coming here!"

It certainly was, the thing flew above the manor house and landed on the lawn right behind it. Meg and I chased after Dom when he shot off to see it close up. As we pursued him, we passed three paramedics running in the opposite direction. I realised it was an air ambulance.

By the time we'd arrived at the machine, the rotors had stopped turning and the pilot was stood nonchalantly at its side. Dom, being Dom ran right up to him.

"Man? Are you the flyer?" He asked, bold as brass.

"Yes I am, and what's your name?" he replied. I noted he had a posh, Scottish Highland accent.

"Dominic" he was told by my son as he started to inspect the wheels.

The pilot was obviously a father himself as he was a natural with my son. He took him round his helicopter and showed him all the controls. Dom quivered with excitement and for once was speechless.

We got to chatting as Meg held my hand, somewhat overawed by the whole thing. I'll admit to being awed by him myself. He was about my age, 6 foot or so, supremely fit, tanned, a chiseled chin and two day stubble.

Honestly, I would 'ave. I really would. And I'm straight...

The old grannies that had gathered around him obviously felt the same.

His radio buzzed, so he went off to the side to confer with his medical colleagues. When he returned he told me that they'd been called for a suspected heart attack. As we were in the middle of nowhere, the only practical way of getting someone in VF to hospital in time is by air.

"Looks like the emergency's over," he said "he'll be OK."

That was the last I heard from him, as the grannies had crowded me and the kids out.

We hung around until he fired up his 'copter, spun it around no more than 10 feet from the ground and sped off over our heads. I was quite moist, I must say.

We were unprepared for this, as none of us have been this close to a flying helicopter before. Me, being me, had my eye in the viewfinder as he roared past.

We were all, quite literally blown off our feet.

"Fuck me!" I let slip as I was shoved to the grass. Oops...

Meg was fine, as she was already sat down. Dom on the other hand, had been blown yards down the hill.

I caught him in my arms as he ran towards me in tears.

"Are you OK Dom?"

"Yeah!" he shouted, "That was brill."

The little lad was crying and laughing at the same time.

Bless 'im.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

That’ll be the North East Air Ambulance making its present felt, totally funded by public donation and saving lives every year.
It’s the one that I supported by doing that sponsored 500 mile motorcycle rally, which incidentally raised in total to date £52,000.00p.
On average, each “shout” costs £1,000.00p, so we have only enabled 52 shouts for the year 2007. Not a lot.

jamon said...

Ahh yes, I remember that. Was that the event when a poor biker got killed by a passing car?

A cruel, vicious irony that.

Anonymous said...

Yeh – The driver of the car was arrested at the scene and has been in court. Nuff said. If you look at the Helicopter, you will see the name of the rider killed on the side.
Onb the night, I was about 5 minutes ahead of the fellow who lost his life.

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