Conn. Man Revived After Collapsing During 5K Run

Oct. 20--EAST HARTFORD -- Off-duty Trooper Ken Dillon had just run a 5K road race with his friend when he saw a commotion near the finish line.

Someone was down, and the panicked looks on people's faces told him it was serious, he said.

What Dillon and a group of East Hartford firefighters did in the next few minutes saved a man's life: They revived Mike Randall of Massachusetts, who had suffered cardiac arrest and collapsed.

Randall was there for the Believe 208 Run for the Brave and Finest on Sept. 20. The annual event raises money for Believe 208, which works with a nonprofit organization to raise awareness about the importance of officers' emotional health. It was founded by Trish Buchanan, whose husband, East Hartford Officer Paul Buchanan, committed suicide in 2013.

Once flatlined, Randall is now recovering from double-bypass heart surgery. Two days after the race, he used the Believe 208 Facebook page to thank those who helped him:

"I feel blessed that I am able to be writing this post," he wrote. "Fortunately, this event was in support of the brave and talented first responders, police officers and firefighters who were able to get to me within that 3-minute window and bring me back to life. God was surely watching over me."

Randall has no memory of what happened to him, said his girlfriend, Janice McCarthy. Others will never forget it.

Randall was lying on Main Street, ashen. His breathing was slow and labored.

Dillon, who used to work as a paramedic, rushed over, as did John J. Rich, a Madison police commander and former state police lieutenant. Most firefighters didn't have far to go -- Randall had fallen next to a parked firetruck.

Dillon went to Randall's side, Rich went to his feet and moved him to prepare him for treatment.

"We all did different things," Dillon said. "I was checking for pulse."

Firefighter Tom Jascowski got some equipment. Firefighter/paramedic Kevin Wall was at Randall's head, working to help him breathe. Also helping was firefighter/paramedic Ryan Reardon, who was in his dress uniform, and firefighters Brad Bernier and Mike Tedone. Deputy Fire Chief Al Dodd and Capt. Butch Littell were overseeing the lifesaving effort.

The only person who wasn't there was the firefighter/paramedic assigned to the race. Matt Barrera was at his assigned spot at the route's midpoint and was on his way.

The firefighters put an oxygen mask on Randall. But the first-responders saw that the mask wasn't doing any good because Randall was not breathing on his own.

Dodd got on his portable radio and told Barrera, "You need to step it up." Barrera drove a firetruck to the scene as fast as he could without jeopardizing the safety of runners.

In the meantime, the first-responders started using a larger mask to get Randall breathing. It is attached to a rubber-like, football-shaped device that, when squeezed, pushes air into the patient's lungs. They also prepared him for an electric shock that would return his fluttering heart to a normal rhythm.

Barrera said that when he arrived, Randall "was completely unconscious, unresponsive ... wasn't breathing. Had no pulse." He hooked him up to his automatic defibrillator, and within 20 seconds paramedics delivered the shock that would restore a heartbeat.

Meanwhile, Reardon was trying to set up an IV, but wasn't able to find a vein. Barrera used a medical drill that administered the fluid directly into the bone marrow below his knee.

As this was going on, officers and others involved with the race formed a human wall, standing shoulder to shoulder, facing out, to give Randall privacy. The wall forced runners approaching the finish line up onto the sidewalk.

Randall began breathing on his own, and by the time they put him in an ambulance, he was talking, Barrera said.

The first person he asked for was his girlfriend, who said doctors later told them that without the medical intervention, Randall would have been brain dead in three minutes.

Such saves aren't common, the firefighters said. Dodd counted five in 10 years. In Barrera's 12 years with the East Hartford Fire Department, he said, "I think this is only my second save."

It may be even more unusual for a stranger wearing shorts and a T-shirt to be kneeling on the ground next to firefighters, working on a patient, as Dillon was doing. Rich, the Madison police commander, saw a flash of doubt on the face of Littell, the fire captain, and assured him that Dillon was a medic.

"It was pretty good teamwork," Dillon said. "I think it worked out that day."

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