The other night, I saw one of the best examples to set for our youth. Not really.

Just A Second: By Nate Hansen 

The other night, I saw one of the best examples to set for our youth. Not really.

While attending the 2007 National Night Out at Sedona City Hall and Sedona Police Department, I had the privilege of watching one of Northern Arizona Healthcare’s Guardian Air medevac helicopters land for a static display.

As the beating rotor blades fought the steady night, the evening’s festivities slowed.

Music stopped momentarily and people were forced to pause for a bit until continuing their discussions.

Sadly, I sat with a couple who obviously didn’t appreciate the helicopter because of the noise.

I’m fortunate I didn’t hear them complain.

The man, who will remain nameless, looked in the sky and scolded the noise. He then did the “[expletive] you and up yours” motion — clenched fist and everything.

The woman, again nameless and a friend, tried to continue our conversation, but became irritated as well. She rolled her eyes at the helicopter’s rude interruption.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

I nearly fell off my chair when this Oscar Madison-type character, a so-called “prominent Sedona citizen” and activist, pretended as if he was holding a shotgun directed at the helicopter.

Thankfully, he was only brandishing two empty arms, aimed by an identical empty head.

“Holy [expletive],” I thought. I’m scared to think of anything remotely dangerous in an airport these days, and this guy’s performing jihad against an airborne medical team.

I wanted to call this behavior childish, but all the children were standing near the make-shift landing zone waiting patiently to meet the crew and tour the aircraft. So, how about insane?

Ordinarily, the sight of the helicopter is a mixed blessing.

On one hand, its presence means a medical emergency. On the other hand, it means the fastest and best treatment available, in turn a greater chance of survival.

To these people, and numerous others who proudly wear nicely pressed shirts embroidered with certain initials under orange reflective vests, the sight of a helicopter is a sacrilege.

Thou shall not offend thy ears.

If I were them, I wouldn’t worry about my hearing, I’d be scared for my vision — it’s so narrow.

Who in their right mind wouldn’t take relief in knowing medevac helicopters are available.?

For heaven’s sake — and I think the messiah would side with me — what would a person do if an ambulance wasn’t able to reach them — die, then resurrect themselves? I think not.

A co-worker of mine suffered a mountain bike accident less than two months ago, for which she was airlifted to Flagstaff Medical Center. Had it not been for the air medevac, things could have been worse; she might not be here.

If you’d like to hear her story, let me know and I can arrange it. I’ll have her whisper.

Most people I know stop what they’re doing when they hear, then see, Guardian Air. They watch in envy and admire the professionalism, at the same time automatically feel empathy for those in need.

Those people — ones who don’t fire imaginary weapons at helicopters and make shooting sound effects — respect emergency medical technicians and understand their importance and necessity. I suppose they might pretend they’re B.J. Hunnicutt from “M*A*S*H” for a couple seconds.

I find it amusing the same people who hate loud noises are often the same ones who scream at me because they’re losing their hearing. They’re the ones who stand in the back of every audience yodeling “I can’t he-e-e-e-a-a-a-a-r yo-o-o-o-o-u.”

It’s funny how the same people who want a cultural park or a completed Barbara Antonsen Memorial Park for gatherings and entertainment venues must not realize amplifiers will accompany instruments, and some of these musicians are crazy enough to “turn it up to 11.”

I also find it ironic how the same people who hate helicopter noises fit the profiles of those more than likely to be picked up for transport.

If you’re a patient, lying in your own blood and urine, with a steering wheel wrapped around your head, or struggling with your last words as an aneurysm is taking your life, make sure to sign the waiver releasing EMTs of their duties to save your life, because I guarantee the last noise they want to hear is your last breath.

Nate Hansen can be reached at 282-7795, Ext. 132 or e-mail to This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it

To read past “Just a Second” columns visit www.redrocknews.com.

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