Skip to main content"So what happened?" I had been at Emanuel's ambulance entrance for a while, waiting to pick up some firemen to take to Vancouver. When I first arrived, I went in to look for them, only to be told that they were en route. I went back out to the cab and picked up my book, only to put it down when the ambulance came in.
The person on the stretcher was lost under a mass of tubes and wires and gear, surrounded on all sides by EMTs, all scrambling into the ER. I went back in after them. "Those firemen that just came in, I believe you guys called a cab for them?" The person at the desk was snippy: "I don't know anything about that." I took a deep breath. "Well then, can you perhaps find someone who does?" She looked like I'd just thrown up on her dinner or something.
Fortunately, a co-worker who didn't have a stick up her ass said she'd tell them I was waiting outside. "Whenever they're ready, thank you," I said.
And now we're heading for Vancouver, and the guys are telling me they can't tell me what happened, due to confidentiality issues. "It was bad, though," said one. "Bad, bad bad," said the other. "Just look in the papers tomorrow, and you'll know." And so I did. And there she was, Anna Svidersky, stabbed—excuse me, allegedly stabbed—by David Barton Sullivan, a 28-year-old paranoid schizophrenic sex offender. She was 17 years old.
WWeek 2015