On My First Flight as a Captain, a Passenger Started Choking – When I Saved Him, the Truth About My Past Hit Me
I got behind him and pulled him up into a sitting position. I locked my arms around his waist and started the Heimlich maneuver.
One thrust. Nothing.
My brain stalled for a fraction of a second.
The man’s grip on my arms was weakening. He was slipping away.
Two thrusts. Still nothing.
“Come on, man! Come on!”
I gave it everything I had on the third thrust. I drove my fist into his abdomen with all my strength.
Suddenly, a small, hard object flew out of his mouth and bounced off the carpet.
The man slumped forward, drawing in a ragged, whistling breath.
I gave it everything I had.
He coughed violently, his chest heaving as air finally flooded his lungs.
The cabin erupted. People were clapping and cheering.
Someone yelled, “Way to go, Captain!”
I didn’t hear any of it. The noise of the engines and the applause faded into a dull hum. I was staring at the man as he turned toward me.
There was no doubt about it: this was the man from my photograph.
“Dad?” I whispered.
People were clapping and cheering.
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