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Merely telling war stories won’t get that done after a chapter or two; there has to be a point—a theme that intrigues and informs readers.Expecting that from amateur storytellers would be no less absurd than handing your neighbors the keys to an ambulance, then dispatching them to a diff breather.William Hanson, 18, of Prescott, left his father’s pickup truck in the 2400 block of north Ewin Drive, with the engine off, the keys in the ignition, and the transmission in “drive,” D’Evelyn said.Deputies did not initially find Hanson, but he left his wallet and some marijuana paraphernalia in the truck, D’Evelyn said.A failed salesman turned local reporter, he wanted to test himself, see how he might respond to pressure and danger.
A former paramedic’s visceral, poignant, and mordantly funny account of a decade spent on Atlanta’s mean streets saving lives and connecting with the drama and occasional beauty that lies inside catastrophe.
But in his downtime, Kevin reflected on how people’s facades drop away when catastrophe strikes.
As his hours on the job piled up, he realized he was beginning to see into the truth of things.
Hazzard’s street creds are impressive—he paid his prehospital dues serving some of the worst neighborhoods in inner-city Atlanta—but it’s his literary talents that make more than just another life-and-death-before-dawn memoir.
This is a writer who happens to be a paramedic—a pedigree that is evident from page 1.
If it were up to me, I’d call it “Chasing Chaos,” which is what Hazzard, his partners and so many of us in EMS do to fuel our adrenalin dependency.