By Kevin Coughlin
The victim lay motionless on the Parsippany pavement, bleeding from multiple gunshots.
A team of helmeted first responders sprang to action, stripping the man’s pants to apply a tourniquet to a massive thigh wound.
A female responder gasped. The victim had another grievous injury in a private place.
“Okay, let’s get to work. You’re going to have to deal with this stuff when it’s real,” the instructor interjected.
The victim was a mannequin, and the responders were high school students. All week at the Morris County Public Safety Academy they have learned skills that are growing increasingly vital in an era of mass shootings, terror attacks and frequent natural disasters.
If the worst happens, “I’ll be ready,” said Anarius Adams, a rising freshman at Morristown High School.
On Thursday, Adams
- manned a hose to douse a simulated car fire. (“Spray the tires first, or they will explode.”)
- was taught the proper way to use a fire extinguisher. (“Aim low, or the fire will spread out.”)
- learned life-or-death tips on how firefighters enter burning buildings. (“After you break through the door, close it behind you and get on the floor,” lest the fire rush towards the opening.)
Adams also charged into a mock nightclub, where an actress portrayed the disemboweled victim of a mass shooting. Fake blood “was still pretty nasty,” Adams said.
Students practiced triage, culling the living from the dead to assess who needed attention most desperately. Another scenario simulated an accident involving a motorcyclist with a severed leg.
Nearly 40 teens from 22 Morris County towns enrolled in the program, dubbed the Morris County Public Safety Youth Academy.
Now in its fourth year, it’s sponsored by the county freeholders and patterned after a program offered to police, firefighters and EMS volunteers.
Emphasis for the teens is on swift application of tourniquets and military-style compression bandages, to save themselves or companions from “bleeding out” if the unthinkable occurs.
Students who demonstrate proficiency will go home with trauma kits loaded with life-saving supplies.
“This is equipment for those days that we hope never happen,” said Jeff Paul, director of the county Office of Emergency Management.
“Fortune favors the prepared,” added Adam Hartswick, an instructor with Techline Technologies Inc., the Pennsylvania company that supplied the gory mannequins.
Hartswick, a former Army medic, knows all too well how tourniquets save lives. He lost his legs in Afghanistan after stepping on an improvised explosive device in 2013.
With the teens on Thursday, he hammered home the urgency of removing shooting casualties to safe areas before starting treatment. A shooter was presumed to be lurking in the scenario of the wounded police officer atop this story.
“Active, loud communication” also is key, Hartswick said. “The heroes of 9/11 all were able to communicate loudly and clearly to members of their teams.”
‘I DIDN’T WANT TO FREEZE AND STARE’
Earlier this week, students attended presentations by the Morris County Sheriff’s emergency response- and K-9 teams, and bomb experts. The Atlantic Health System’s medevac chopper paid a visit. Police went over school “active shooter” drills, and how to interact with police during motor vehicle stops.
“It’s a different day for our children. They have to have a different understanding of this stuff to survive,” said Parsippany Police Sgt. Allan Griffin.
He taught a session explaining how cops are trained to respond to threats, real or perceived, and why some encounters escalate. Graphic videos were part of his presentation. The youths impressed him.
“I would love to serve with some of these kids,” Griffin said. “Some of them already serve with fire departments and EMS crews. They’re the kind of kids we’re looking for in this career.”
Seth Gutierrez, a high school junior from Pequannock, said the program affirmed his desire to “become some kind of medic.”
Samantha Kiss of East Hanover plans to study criminal justice at the University of New Haven this fall. Why did she forego summer beach time to rush into disturbingly real-looking nightclub carnage?
“If something like this ever happened,” she said, “I didn’t want to freeze and stare.”
Adams, the Morristown student, stayed late one night to renew his CPR license. While he aspires to a career onstage, he knows that no place is immune to violence.
“I feel like everybody should take this class,” Adams said.