It’s never over when the shooting stops.
What happens when the shooting stopped for me, the gunmen got away only to be captured another day. When the shooting stopped I was experiencing shock, numb from the high velocity projectiles that struck my frame. I was dazed and momentarily deaf from all the gun play. I pushed myself up to a smoke filled room, the smoke that the gunpowder left behind hovering overhead like the clouds in the sky.
My partner and I were mortality wounded lying on the floor , I knew that somehow I had to get to the door.Now how was I going to get to the door when my left elbow was blown away, and both of my femurs were broken and my fingers on my left hand were nearly severed just hinging on by small pieces of flesh. I knew that I had to get to the door.
By now the 911 calls had to be lighting up the communication center at the Sheriff’s office, but time was passing and we were dying. I knew I had to get to the door in hopes of saving our lives.
In all the time no help had arrived it seemed like being left behind enemy lines. I knew I had to get to that door. I pushed through the pain because no help had arrived, i knew if I was going to live I had to get to that door.
I prayed to my Lord then I pushed myself over on my broken femurs, and the pain that came with that and I started to crawl.
I rolled, and pulled myself along with my right hand alone. It was hard as could be to pull my entire my body with no help from my lower half with my right hand and arm alone. But I did what I had to do and somehow I made it to the door.
It’s not over when the shooting stops.
When rescue arrived on the scene.
When rescue arrived on the scene they did what they could do to stabilize our wounds to prepare us for transportation by air and by ground.
It’s not over when the shooting stops.
Kirk Clark Sr.
(c) 05-05-16
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