I don't know what propelled Fred to walk his dog, Bruce, so late that night. Had he not, the accident may not have been noticed for hours, possibly too late for anyone inside the car. The road was dark and on a desolate country road not well traveled, especially at this time of night.

Fred witnessed the black sedan veer off the road and slam into the large oak tree that had grown strong and proud for decades. The tree didn't so much as flinch on impact, unlike the front of the car which seemed to disintegrate with sheer force.

Its brake lights blinked erratically as if summoning help for its passengers as Fred and his dog closed the fifty yard distance. He dialed 911 on his cell phone as he and Bruce approached the fractured car while providing the dispatcher the coordinates for emergency vehicles. I remembered hearing him specifically referencing the big oak tree on Wilmont.

As Fred neared the car with labored breath, he noted a blonde woman in the driver's seat of the car; a dark haired man in the passenger seat. Both were covered in blood. Neither the woman nor the man showed signs of movement or life.

Fred reached the passenger first and felt for a pulse. Nothing. The man didn't respond to verbal stimulation or questioning... I could hear Fred's peppered questions, "Where are you hurt; what is your name; who is the president-elect?"

Fred secured his dog's leash on a nearby branch, before running around the car to the driver's door where the woman appeared stunned, vacant, and slumped over the steering wheel with her head facing away from Fred, toward the passenger. From his vantage point, he could only see the back of her head, hair matted and bloodied.

I watched as Fred reversed steps and moved back to the passenger side of car, assuming to get a better assessment of her level of awareness and injuries. I heard him repeatedly muttering, "Where is the damn ambulance?"

As he leaned into the passenger cabin, across the body of the man slumped and motionless, the dome light inside the car suddenly came on, casting an eerie glow throughout the passenger compartment. Fred noticed the woman's eyes were open and tears were streaming down both cheeks, as she stared at the man, motionless beside her.

Fred calmly let her know help was on the way..."Ma'am, you are going to be okay, what is your name? I've called for paramedics, is this your husband? What is his name? You are going to be okay, help is on the way, stay with me..."

He retreated from the passenger compartment, stood up and listened for sirens. Still nothing.

Bruce, the lab, yipped a few times before settling back down, seeming to understand the intensity of the situation. Fred checked for signs of life a second time on the male passenger.

"Stay with me buddy, you're going to be okay. Can you hear me? Don't move, help is on the way." Fred then felt behind the man's neck one last time for a pulse. This time a faint one presented, and I could sense Fred's elation.

That's when he noticed her...head still at rest against the steering wheel, staring at her passenger while stroking him with the exposed bone of her right arm, compromised by a compound fracture.

I'm not a doctor, but I sensed something bigger than all of us going down inside that car. Somehow, she reached her husband and got his heart beating again, with just a touch.

In the distance, I heard sirens about the same time Fred and Bruce did. Bruce began howling as Engine 24 approached.

It was time for me to move on. My angel wings were needed elsewhere.