Prom should end with memories – not sirens. (4-24-25)

We got the call just after midnight—head-on collision, multiple young victims, possible entrapment. As soon as we arrived, I knew it was bad. Two cars, crushed front to front, steam and smoke rising into the night. I could hear someone screaming before I even got out of the truck. The driver of one vehicle was pinned, barely conscious, while the other car… it was quiet. Too quiet. A girl in a prom dress was slumped in the passenger seat, and from the look of it, she hadn’t made it. Her makeup was perfect, like she hadn’t even had time to react. That part gets to you—the suddenness of it.

We worked fast, jaws-of-life on one side, triage on the other. One of the kids kept asking if his friend was okay, and I didn’t have the heart to answer. We train for this, we stay calm, we follow procedure—but it hits different when it’s prom night, when there’s glitter on the seats and someone’s phone keeps ringing in the wreckage. We handed off the survivors to EMS, zipped up a black bag, and stood back in the flashing lights while the tow crew moved in. Then we packed up in silence, the smell of burnt rubber and perfume still clinging to our gear.

Special moments deserve to be remembered, so take a moment beforehand to discuss how to stay safe on the road.