By
Christamar Varicella
Then
the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother, Abel?”
“I
don’t know,” Cain replied. “Am I my
brother’s keeper?”
The
Lord said, “What have you done? Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the
ground.”
Genesis
4:9
Chapter 1
1964
A
rolling gurney emerged from the house escorted by two African American paramedics. The patient—Evan Hall, 65-years-old, originally
from Montgomery, Alabama—wore an oxygen mask over his face that clouded with
each irregular exhalation. His eyes opened
wide with fear.
“Don’t
worry, Mr. Hall,” Kevin, the younger of the two paramedics, said as they rolled
down the driveway. “You’ve had a mild
heart attack. We’ll have you at the
hospital in no time.”
The
back door swung open and the two men lifted the gurney into the waiting vehicle. The car was long and white, more
of a hearse than an ambulance, but it served both purposes. The side panel advertised, “Ernie’s Ambulance
and Funeral Services.”
