On Friday night I left work to meet
keyne at Sei Bar in Medford. I was on my way up Main St. at about 6:45pm when I noticed that there was a pickup truck in the middle of the intersection. Then I noticed there was a mangled dirt bike lying in the street behind it. There were also a lot of people shouting and yelling things at each other, and a man was kneeling in the middle of the street, cradling a boy around twelve years old in his arms. The boy was conscious, and crying.
Someone yelled please, could someone call 911? I did, and was told that Medford police had been advised. Someone figured out that it would be a good idea to move the truck so people could get past it. The driver ran to his truck to move it (someone screamed, "Don't let him get away!").
I stood around for a few more minutes, gawking, trying to figure out something else constructive I could do. It occurred to me that it would be helpful for someone to direct traffic, but I wasn't sure of a safe way to do that with the injured party still in the middle of the street. In a few minutes an ambulance arrived, with two cruisers and two fire engines (!) so I decided it was safe for me to leave.
After meeting
keyne for dinner, I had to go back up the street to see what happened. The police were still there. Some officers were talking to people, and at least a couple appeared to be collecting evidence from the street.
I hate not knowing what to do. It makes me feel a lot better about the kids' bike safety training that I took for MassBike last month. But I would have given anything at that instant to have had first aid training. And I have to say, being the parent of an active nine-year-old boy, that watching a scene like that unfold fills my gut with icy, sour terror.
I don't know what happened to the boy. I called the Medford PD a few minutes ago. The desk sergeant I talked to confirmed that he can't tell me anything about the victims of an accident.
I don't know what happened to the boy.