I, and three other guys tried to save a dying man today. Louis Martinez, one of my customers, suffered an apparent heart attack in the men's bathroom in the building where I work. It was difficult just getting to him, since he had his full weight leaning against the only door that opened inward. We had to get to him, so we could move him to the open hallway to render first aid. At first, there were only three of us rotating, doing CPR. One of us did chest compressions. The next guy did mouth to mouth, and the third guy held Louis' neck and head in a position to maximize flow of air through his windpipe. We were unable to get a pulse, and that was his condition when the medics took him rushed him to the emergency room. Through a series of circumstances, we estimated that Louis had been unconscious for at least 20 minutes.

I was just getting to know Louis. I knew that he sang in a mariachi group. He was a caring man who understood his friends faults without articulating them to all within earshot, yet remained loyal, regardless of them. I suspect that Louis deserves to be remembered for his life, and not for how and where he died. He was 58 years old. He was a good man.