MY MIRACLE

I grew up in St. Petersburg attending, and eventually graduating from Northside Christian High School, in 1980. I subsequently graduated with honors from St. Pete College School of Nursing in 1982. I pursued a career in critical care nursing, working at Edward White Hospital for 10 years. I felt God's leading in 1989 into a career as a flight nurse. I became the chief flight nurse for Care Flight International, a nationally accredited air ambulance. I transported all types of patients all over the world.

I turned 40 in April of this year and celebrated my 20th wedding anniversary in August. I have been blessed with a loving Godly husband and two wonderful children, Chad, 22 and Mallory, 18.

I always knew that God blessed me with a loving close family, dear friends and a supportive church family. This fact, however, truly became real to me on August 30th, the day I experienced a genuine miracle that changed my life forever.

The day began very normally. After a picture perfect landing in Marco Island, we picked up a patient with terminal lung cancer and her husband then took off for Lexington, Kentucky. The weather remained pristine as we descended into Lexington. The pilots ran their normal checklist prior to landing as I secured the cabin.
We touched down on the runway like we had done hundreds of times before. Unfortunately, this time would prove very different. I watched as the captain attempted to use the brakes but they didn't work. I heard him speak the ominous words, "no brakes". He quickly deployed the reverse thrusters per protocol, but they also failed. Hoping it was a fluke, he quickly tried once again but this also proved futile. In a desperate attempt to stop the aircraft, the co-pilot grabbed for the emergency brake and firmly said, "Hold on". This entire process, which seemed an eternity, actually totaled 5-10 seconds.

Our speed was estimated at 100- 120 mph as we careened off the end of the runway dropping off a 60-foot hill. Our right wing smashed into a wooden ILS tower violently ripping off from the aircraft. Our Lear jet slammed into a small ditch, regained upward momentum then slid on its belly across six lanes of a major highway, finally skidding to a halt.

We were facing east on the shoulder of the westbound lane when we finally stopped. Although it was the afternoon of a busy holiday weekend, there were no cars in our path on this major stretch of highway because incredibly two traffic lights were both red. Witnesses said that the black smoke from the fire, which ensued, could be seen 100 feet in the air. Fortunately when the right wing tore away from the aircraft, half of our fuel supply, which fed the fire, was also removed from the burning jet.

Although in shock, I remained conscious throughout the entire crash. My years of training proved effective in keeping me calm. Smelling smoke and hearing the crackling sound of a burning aircraft, I quickly assessed the situation. I feel God kept me from looking back at the fire, which probably would have caused me to panic. My captain had been knocked unconscious, as had my patient.

My co-pilot informed me his back was broken. I told him I would open the door, which was located directly in front of me. I removed my seatbelt and leaned forward suddenly realizing something was wrong with my legs. I mustered all my strength and desperately reached for the door again. Grasping the fact that my legs were damaged enough to prevent me from standing; I became painfully aware how desperate our situation truly was.

From deep within my soul, I cried out to God my Heavenly Father begging, "Dear God, in Jesus' name, please save us." As He promises in His word, He heard my cry. Psalm 50:15 says, "…call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me". Immediately a man, and several other civilians, jumped from cars and valiantly tried to open the door. This was not possible as the jet door is geared down in a locked mode to prevent it from opening in-flight. The brave man suffered a broken hand in the process. Other hero's, disregarding the danger, approached the burning jet using fire extinguishers to hold back the flames that were rapidly closing in on us. This amazed me because we only carried one small fire extinguisher onboard and I saw six or seven being used. My captain, who I thought was dead, said he felt like someone was shaking him and he awoke from his unconscious state. He heard my prayers. Suffering from a head injury, he was unsure of where we were or what exactly happened. All he knew was that he needed to open the door. He stumbled back from the cockpit, opened the door and fell out.

Brave bystanders began pulling us out. They grabbed my patient first followed by her husband, seated directly behind her, and pulled them both from the wreckage. One rescuer told me later that the smoke was so thick that he could not see me seated two feet directly in front of him on the jump seat. Miraculously, none of us aboard the aircraft suffered severe smoke inhalation or any burn injuries.

One brave firefighter, however, sustained second- degree burns to his neck and shoulders after he stuck his head inside the aircraft to help. The crash fire rescue units dispatched from the airport came out onto the highway. One truck, hearing a higher call, came down a small road parallel to the runway, crashed through a charred fence, and dowsed the flames just in the nick of time.

Security camera photos taken from the airport showed our aircraft land, go off the end of the runway in flames and when we finally stopped the wind was blowing the smoke forward in the aircraft. The very next picture taken from that camera showed the wind made a 180 degree shift and was actually blowing the smoke and flames towards the rear of the aircraft away from all onboard. Some call it lucky but I believe it was Divine intervention!

A precious young woman laid herself over my face to protect me from the foam. When the foam cleared, I spotted my patient lying on the grassy knoll several feet away from me. She appeared lifeless and I begged, "Please, someone start CPR". An off-duty nurse valiantly attempted to perform CPR but it was too late. The impact proved too great and she did not survive.

My 5'11" 270 pound co-pilot remained onboard the aircraft inside the tiny cockpit fearing he was going to die. Another miracle occurred at this time. Jim was safely pulled from the cockpit by a 140-pound Lexington firefighter who had four weeks prior to the incident failed a strength agility test at his department.

Once outside the aircraft, I phoned my husband informing him of what had happened and that I thought I had broken my legs. The same young lady, who shielded me earlier from the foam, held my hand and prayed over me as I lay on the grassy roadside. I was quickly flown by helicopter to the University of Kentucky, a level one trauma center, where they diagnosed bilateral posterior knee dislocations, which severed my popliteal arteries. I had lost circulation to my lower legs and was actually hemorrhaging. The medical staff marveled at the fact that the horrific force, which dislocated my knees and severed my arteries, had not broken any of my leg bones.

I underwent emergency surgery, which lasted thirteen hours and was given ten units of blood. The situation proved so critical that I almost did not make it thought the surgery. I had also sustained a punctured lung and a vertebral fracture in my upper back. I spent six days on a ventilator in ICU. During this critical time I battled respiratory failure, renal failure and a temperature of 104. Anyone of these complications could have ended my life. The combination of all of them statistically should have. Thankfully, God sustained me.

A high school classmate, living in Lexington, heard about the accident from another friend. She and her lovely family came to the hospital to provide support to my family. They gave my husband a car to use and invited everyone to their home on a horse farm for dinner and a time to regroup. A local church made available an apartment they owned for my family to use. The Lexington fire department made sure we had all that we needed. Three of my dearest friends flew up to be with me. They all took turns keeping bedside vigils. My wonderful husband rarely left my side.

After two and a half weeks in Kentucky, Care Flight flew me back to St. Petersburg where I was cheerfully greeted by many family, friends, firefighters, and fellow air medical crew. The care flight team who flew me home graciously donated their pay for the transport to my family and me. Bay flight graciously offered to fly me into the hospital but I respectfully declined. I was admitted to Bayfront Medical Center for two more weeks undergoing yet another surgery. Upon discharge, I came home where my husband, other family members and dear friends helped care for me. I had ten- pound fixator rods screwed into my leg bones from my ankle to my hip supporting my damaged knees for eight weeks. They reminded me every day of what I have been through. I underwent a rigorous two-hour workout with physical therapy three times a week for over a year. I literally learned to walk all over again.

Although I have endured extreme fear, pain and stress, I have also experienced God's love, joy and His peace that passes all understanding. He has continued to bless us and provide for our every need. His mercies appear fresh each new day. We received meals nightly for weeks. The Pinellas Park fire Department and Gold's Gym started a trust fund to help with my expenses. Palm Harbor fire Department paid for a wheel chair access van so I could attend my children's functions as well as church. Edward White Hospital where I've been gone from since 1992, held a bake sale raising over fifteen hundred dollars. Friends and strangers alike offered house cleaning, shopping, counseling, and even hair cutting services. Dr. Scott Boggs, the pastor at the time of our church Northside Baptist, flew up immediately after the accident to pray over me and offer support to my family. My dear neighbors and a local church, St.Annes' Episcopal, organized a spaghetti dinner where they matched funds for us on Saturday night, October 26th, 2002. They raised over $2000.00 dollars for my recovery fund. The dinner was followed by a time of praise and worship led by Grace to Youth and then I shared my story for the first time, My Personal Miracle.

Since that time, First Church of the Brethren held another dinner and raised additional funds for my recovery. God has risen up wonderful people from all over to assist and support us during this difficult time. He has also enabled me to share the story of my miracle with many church, school and civic groups. The story of His mighty protection and provision continues to touch people deeply. I am currently following God's leading and writing a book detailing His wonderful miracle in my life. Although this experience has been very painful and trying, God's blessings have been poured out upon us in ways we would never have imagined.

I have endured more surgery and over two years of intense rehabilitation. Amazingly, I only required the placement of one cadaver ligament in my right knee instead of four in each knee as I was told initially I would need due to the severity of my injuries. God once again miraculously touched me healing my knees. I now roller blade, bike and teach step aerobics again. I still have limitations on how long I can stand or sit because of swelling in my legs. The pain I endure reminds me of all I have been through and just how reliant and dependent I truly am on the Lord.

Although I do not know what my future holds, I know without a doubt who holds my future. People continue to marvel at all I have been through and how far I have come. I humbly remind them that I am an ordinary woman with an extraordinary God. I know He allowed me to endure this trial in order to shape me, mold me and make me into a vessel He can use to bring glory to His Holy name.

I would like to thank all of the many people, some I know and many I do not, who have given of themselves to help us through this situation. Above all, I want to thank Jesus Christ my Lord for saving my soul when I first accepted Him as my personal Savior at age seven and for saving my very life at age forty when I called upon His Holy name. I will continue to share the story of my miracle to all who will listen and to praise God for His faithfulness and goodness to me. Psalm 3:4, 30:2 "I cried to the Lord with my voice and He heard me from His holy hill…O Lord my God, I cried out to you and you healed me."