The night my brother fell. One year ago my brother, Jeremy, was involved in a freakish tragic accident at the Humboldt Pool. We didnÕt think he was going to make it several times throughout his recovery. We received a call at 5: 27 am; My Dad came out of his room half awake grabbing the phone off the charger with unnecessary force. HelloÓ he asked groggily. He did whatÓ, How bad is itÓ, I heard him say. I figured he had been in a car accident, or had been involved in a fight. Jeremy is hurt and he is hurt bad, My Mom informed me with tears streaming down her face. What?! How!? My hearted dropped. Because I feared that one of worst fears was becoming a reality. How is that possible! I thought. What if he doesnÕt survive?! My parents raced out the door to Humboldt. Leaving me to watch my younger siblings, inform them and ponder. All we had to do was wait. They reached Humboldt. Seeing the crowd of police cars, and ambulance and rescue personnel surrounding the passengerÕs seat in an old car they leaped form their vehicle. There he was in the reclined front seat. His breathing was asperity, his face purple with beads of sweat. No one could figure out what had occurred that forced him into his current state. Jeremy couldnÕt talk, or move and everyone feared the worst. What happened!?!!Ó My Dad yelled at one of the boy that was with him, while grabbing his collar. I, I, donÕt know, he replied stupidly, we, uh, he was running on the pavement and he slippedÓ It took several minutes to get Jeremy loaded in into the Ambulance. My Mom rode with him to Chanute. The EMS people sought to stabilize him. Still not knowing what had happened, my Mom and, the sheriff, who also rode with Jeremy to the hospital tried to figure out what could have happened. He couldnÕt have just slipped on the pavementÓ they reasoned.Ó Why was in the car? His injuries have far surpassed the extent they would have been if he had simply fallen.Ó I wonder why his are shorts soaked, My Mom thought. Then she recalled him telling her, about the time when he and his buddies jumped off of the bar on the top of the slide into the water. I remember him telling me about that to and I purposely blew him off, thinking it would work as a tactic to discourage him from doing so again, I realize know I shouldnÕt have done that. Jeremy?! My Mom asked did you jumped off the slide??!! Slide, he said quietly and with great effort. Slide, highÓ ThatÕs when they realized what had probably happened, and they were right. He and his buddies had snuck into the pool around 2 am; they were taking turns jumping into the pool form the top of the narrow bar. The first time Jeremy made it, the second he was wet and he slipped, he caught himself with one hand. Hanging unto the bar, trying to pull him self back up that is one of the last things Jeremy remembered up until then. He had line bruises on his fore arms from trying to hang on. Then he let go, and fell with a thud. The concrete were he laid remained blood stained for weeks before they painted over it, and I still canÕt stand to stand were I know he laid. Back at the hospital they staff accessed his injuries; 6 broken ribs, 4 broken bones in the back, laceration on the back of his head, and the most serious injury he received, a collapsed lung that led to bleeding in the plural cavity which resulted in 3 messed up chest tubes, and one real one. Chest tubes are tube that is supposed to be inserted in the plural cavity, between the 4th and 5 ribs, to drain fluid and they are frequently perform in emergency situations without any drugs. It is a very horrific procedure, and it was done incorrectly which resulted in them attempting to insert it an second time, then finally a third time properly at K.U. medical center where he was airlifted. The chest tube saved his life; he would have made it without it even though it was put in very wrong. My Grandma came and picked us up and brought us all to her house for awhile before we headed to K.U. We reached K.U. before my parents had. Joshua, my oldest brother, who lives in Kansas City, was there to meet Jeremy when he had arrived. Jeremy had to stay in the PICU for four days, and almost got sent back to the PICU after a few days in the pediatric unit. Seeing him lying on the bed unresponsive, with the giant chest tube in his side draining blood, I didnÕt believe he was alive and that he was going to make it. I thought it had to be the end. Jeremy had a long road to complete recovery. Most of the pain has faded but the scars remain, not only on him but on everyone in our family. I donÕt believe he would be here today if he hadnÕt of had some help. One night when he was getting worse, a lady prayed for him in the hospital, an older Mexican cleaning lady. Do you pray? She asked my Dad. Yes he replied, curiously. Then can I pray for your son? Yes. She prayed and said she would come back the next night and she did. There was no record of the lady, no one at the hospital had heard of her and they didnÕt know who Dad was talking about. After that he continued to get better. Every person we tell that story to, even the ones who claim not to believe in God asked are you sure she wasnÕt an Angel. I believe she was.