Broken Leg

 I don't know why or how these memories just pop up.  This happened in the beginning of summer, 1964.  I was 9 that day.

When I was little, I lived with my family on Long Island.  We lived on the South Shore, not far from the Great South Bay.  We were surrounded by family members, and Grandma’s house was in walking distance.

Grandma was my safe place to fall.  I could feel her love wrap me up like a warm blanket.  Sometimes we would go with Grandpa further east to pick berries which seemed to grow everywhere.  Most of the time, Grandma and I spent quiet times together, watching the birds from the kitchen window, playing a board game, watching TV or just talking.  I loved to help her snap green beans and peas.

One early summer’s day, Grandma agreed to come with us to an outing on Fire Island.  Getting there was fun; we had to first drive over the Captree Bridge to get to some of the barrier islands in the bay.  From Captree, we’d take a ferry over to Fire Island.  I loved the ferry ride any time we went.  It was such a pleasant trip and the salty South Shore breeze was always refreshing.  This day, I had my Grandma with me.

As we crossed the bay to Fire Island, we could see the new Robert Moses bridge in the distance.  It was set to open to traffic later that month.  My parents were excited to have it open because then they could just drive over the bridge to Fire Island.  I wasn’t so thrilled.  I would miss the ferry rides.

From the ferry, we hauled our beach stuff between us and walked some distance to a spot not too far from the water.  My brother and I were fairly dancing with excitement.  We weren’t experienced swimmers yet so we would only wade in the waves and splash each other.  We had a game of running toward the water and then running back up the beach, a breaking wave chasing us.

I was aware of Grandma coming onto the packed sand to join us.  Mom was there as well, pointing to Grandma’s heavy black shoes, shaking her head “no” and then pointing back to the blanket.  “I just want to see,” Grandma said slowly, mouthing her words carefully.

Just then, a larger wave approached, broke and began rushing toward us.  My brother and I ran past Grandma, laughing as we escaped the wave.  Then we turned to go back and our laughter stopped.

Grandma was sitting on the sand.  “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, shocked. “Just look at my leg.”

I looked and my stomach flipped over.  Her leg was bent to one side and it looked like some alien egg shaped thing was coming out of her shin, just below the knee.  Mom was running toward the lifeguard, yelling in her Deaf voice “Help, help!”

The lifeguard wasn’t too far away, and I saw him look at Mom with a puzzled expression.  He doesn’t understand, I realized, and so I began running toward him too.  “Help my Grandma!” I shouted, and he jumped down from his high perch.

He ran past us and knelt at Grandma’s side.  Dad was already there with my weeping brother.  As Mom and I approached, the lifeguard stood up and began signaling with his arms.  Dad and Mom helped Grandma sit up without moving her legs.  “What have I done?” Grandma was saying to herself.

I was terrified.  What was that stuff popping out of Grandma’s leg?  It looked like a piece of uncooked chicken now that I was closer.  Tears filled my eyes too.  Grandma didn’t seem to be hurting but she couldn’t get up and walk, and she was saying the same things over and over.  “Just look at my leg.  What have I done?”

Other lifeguards came running down carrying a stretcher.  There were four lifeguards there now, and one examined Grandma’s leg.  He said to the others, “Compound fracture.  We need to get her to the hospital.”

He then said to my parents, “I need one of you to go in the ambulance.”

My parents looked at him blankly.

I mouthed slowly, “Grandma to hospital.  You or you go with.”

Mom was shaking her head, saying “I can’t talk.”

My father said, “I’ll go with mother-in-law.”  His speech had more clarity than Mom’s did.  He began signing swiftly to Mom.  She nodded and answered, and I could see her hands shaking.

Two of the lifeguards got Grandma onto the stretcher.  She looked small and helpless as they carried her away, still mumbling to herself.  Dad followed after them.

The other two helped Mom pack up all our stuff and carry it back to the ferry.  Mom’s face was white as chalk and my brother was still crying.  Once we got onto the ferry, I tapped Mom’s arm.  She’d been standing at the railing, staring at the unopened bridge.

“Where is Grandma?” I wanted to know.

Mom pointed then.  “Look.” My brother and I watched a white vehicle crawling slowly across the bridge, still closed to the public.  I was awestruck for a moment.  Grandma and Dad were the first townspeople to go over the new bridge.

Mom’s hands were still shaking a little when we finally struggled with everything back to the car at Captree.  I wondered if we would go to the hospital now but Mom had begun driving and I didn’t want to distract her.  I was surprised when she went to my aunt and uncle’s house just on the other side of the Robert Moses Causeway.

My Uncle John and Aunt Joyce were home and Mom virtually collapsed in their arms.  They went to the kitchen and began writing to each other.  Mom always had trouble lipreading her brother because, she said, his lips barely moved.  Aunt Joyce was easier to understand but it was just easier for everyone to write.

My cousins Laura and Matthew were both younger than my brother and me.  Laura was 4 and old enough to know something was up.  My brother and I, 6 and 8 respectively, grew in stature because we knew something our cousins didn’t.  “Our Grandma broke her leg at the beach,” I said importantly, like a newscaster.  “She and our Daddy went over the bridge in an ambulance.”  Laura and Matthew were wide-eyed as we told the whole story, except for the part about the raw chicken thing.

Uncle John left to go to the hospital.  Mom stayed in the kitchen with Aunt Joyce, who was helping her calm down.  They drank tea and the color began to come back to Mom’s face.  After regaling Laura and Matt with our tale, the four of us trooped out to the backyard to play.

After what seemed like hours and hours, Uncle John and Dad returned.  They both looked very tired.  Dad signed to Mom and Uncle John talked to Aunt Joyce.  Grandma had had a bad compound fracture and that was bone and some tissue that popped out of her leg.  The doctors fixed her up and put her leg in a cast.  She would have to stay in the hospital, and when she came home she would need round the clock care.

I didn’t know it but that was the spark that lit the fire and feud between Mom and her sister, my Aunt Betty.  That’s another story.