We graduated from Jacobi Hospital #paramedic school in August 1985, the same month and year that Roy Harold Scherer Jr. (aka Rock Hudson) announced his #AIDS diagnosis. He held onto his secret for so long, that by October 2, 1985, he was gone.
It was to be the last class to graduate from Jacobi. Thirty-seven of us went in, and less than thirty came out after the 9-month, full-time ordeal. Some flunked out, some quit to become cops and firefighters, some quit soon after starting on the job.
Mayor Ed Koch spoke at our graduation ceremony. He posed for pictures with families and then went his way. In his off-the-cuff speech, he made no mention of better salaries and benefits. No one challenged him to do better by us. He might have had, even then, what poker players called “an ace in the hole.”
By 1994, #NYC #EMS had been torn away from the Health & Hospitals Corporation (HHC) and served up on a platter to the old guard of FDNY. Our union offered a token resistance. EMS was no longer independent. The fire department owns EMS to this day and owns the revenues.
Most of the graduates from Class #13 went on to have medical careers. They were heroes in my eyes. Many worked on the street as ‘medics for years, some were promoted within the FDNY infrastructure. Some became ER or specialty nurses at least one became a physician, some joined other EMS systems and were promoted to officers within those systems. The advancements to related careers were due to volition, for the system never offered paramedics a career path.
The last class of Jacobi Medical Center suffered through HHC incompetence, lousy equipment, the AIDS crisis, 9/11, a million calls a year and laughable benefits. New York City’s politicians should be proud of its #EMTs and #Paramedics, for my former brothers and sisters who wore the uniform made them all look good; politicians, slicky boys and New York influencers alike. We made them look maybe, too damn good.
At least one writer
Of that Jacobi paramedic class, at least one would become a professional writer. He (me) would quit the job way too early from #depression and a lack of money. I state it only as a fact without further embellishment. I extensively write about my mental health struggles in the book.
I am not alone.
That said, others made it through relatively unscathed. I admire their insulation.
This writer has become an old man. Unfortunately, some far younger than me have developed all manner of sickness and injury directly from the rigors of the work. The job carried risks. Every call implied the potential for injury. Paramedics have no innate protective shield.
Jacobi #13 has had its injuries, sickness and deaths. What we didn’t have was enough positive publicity. To this day, the public cannot discern EMTs from paramedics from ambulance drivers. To this day, paramedics struggle for greater recognition.
The last class of Jacobi Hospital accepts their memories, good and bad. I don’t know if they have regrets. The City of New York should have plenty. In a broader sense, paramedics were collateral to their indifference. In the best sense, the last class of Jacobi Hospital were among the finest people I have ever known.
