Twilight. My father and my mother were standing next to me on the esplanade in downtown Portsmouth, Ohio. All three of us were looking across Chillicothe Street toward a tall, old, ornate building which looked like a bank. Suddenly I noticed up on about the tenth floor that a black-haired boy (about 12 years old) had climbed out onto a ledge, walked a short ways, and sat down. I pointed out the boy to my mother and father. Even though it was growing so dark outside and the boy was hardly visible in the shadows, they also spotted him. We soon noticed that a second boy, a blond about the same age as the first boy, had also climbed out onto the ledge and had sat down probably 10 meters from the first boy. Obviously the boys should not be out there on the ledge – up to no good.

My father, my mother, and I stared with foreboding. Both boys were clearly too close to the edge and I was dumb-struck as I watched the second boy stand up and stumble. When he managed to regain his balance, I recalled I had once before seen something similar to this, where someone had been on a ledge, had stumbled, and had fallen. Thus I watched with anticipatory horror as once again the boy tottered, and this time, unable to catch himself, tumbled off the ledge. We stared helplessly as the boy fell slowly to the ground, so slowly, he appeared to be floating like a feather. Throughout the entire fall, his body was positioned horizontally, as if he were lying down. As he approached the ground, some clutter in the street prevented our witnessing exactly where he landed, but we heard him hit the ground with a thud, only about 20 meters from us.

As I raced toward the spot where he had crashed, I hollered to my mother to call 911 and ask for an ambulance. I rushed on, not really wanting to see the boy, but realizing that I must do what I could to help him. Running up to the side of the building where I thought the boy had fallen, I spotted a stair well – right next to the building – which descended to the basement of the building. I looked down the stairwell, and there at the foot, saw the boy sprawled on the bottom steps.

I barreled down the steps, thinking I would first check the boy's pulse, to determine if he still had one – I did not think he would. But to my surprise, when I reached the boy, he was still alive and conscious, although unable to move. I thought I must immediately do something to help him, and I must be very careful how I handled him.

Right at the bottom of the stairs was a door which led into the basement of the building. I now realized this building was a church, and beyond the door was the church's basement. I was surprised to see the door unlocked and partially open. As I maneuvered to place myself in the best position to pick up the boy, I pushed the door all the way open so I would have more room in which to move. As I did so, I looked into the darkness of the room, saw a small light briefly flicker on and off, and concluded the ephemeral light was probably part of a burglar alarm system. At least I hoped so, because if so, the police would be summoned and – hopefully – would arrive more quickly.

However, I knew I had to do something now – I couldn't wait for the police. Kneeling down next to the boy, I first murmured soothing words to him, then scooted both my arms under his body and picked him up. When I had him in my arms, I saw little chance he would survive; but I had to try to help him. I stood up with him and began climbing the stairs. At the top, I threw my eye around and caught a glimpse of a police car passing by on Chillicothe Street. By the time I had seen the car, however, it was too far away for me to holler.

Near me I spotted someone else who might offer succor: a woman just starting to board her car. I immediately walked over to her and implored her to take me to a hospital. But she was getting into the passenger side and she wasn't the driver of the car. When I saw a man scooting into the driver's seat, I slid into the back seat with the boy still in my arms. When the man and woman had seated themselves in the front, I repeated my urgent request that they take me to a hospital. I thought Mercy Hospital was probably the closest. The man seemed to comprehend at once, and immediately pulled out. The man was probably 20-30 years older than the woman, and I wondered if they were a couple. He was balding, while she had a head of thick black hair.

My main concern was still with the boy. I hoped I hadn't made a mistake by not waiting for an ambulance. It probably didn't make much difference anyway – I didn't think the boy would survive. He looked as if he were about to lose consciousness, and just as he was slipping away, I whispered to him, "Pretty soon you're going to know why God created angels."

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