Tragedies Put Volunteers on Emotional Front Lines

Cherri Myers was among the first mothers on the scene May 3 when a driver rammed his Cadillac into a Costa Mesa day-care center, killing two children and injuring five other people.

Myers had no children of her own there. She was called by the city Fire Department to help any traumatized parents.

You think that wasn’t a gut-wrenching night? Myers and I were both wet-eyed after she relived it for me, three months later.

At home in Newport Beach after the tragic event, Myers said, came the second-guessing. “You worry that whatever you had to give just wasn’t good enough.”

But Myers is a veteran of lots of tragedies. She’s a volunteer with the Trauma Intervention Program. A growing number of Orange County police and fire agencies are using TIP, as it’s called, in emergencies large and small, primarily to assist victims in an immediate crisis.

A national program begun in San Diego County in the 1980s, TIP celebrates its fourth Orange County anniversary next month.

Among its biggest fans is Capt. Mike Bair, commander of the California Highway Patrol’s San Juan Capistrano office: “To have a resource like that at the scene during a crisis is invaluable to us. I’m extremely high on those people.”

The local TIP volunteers--two teams of more than 30 each now--are on call 24 hours a day. Primarily they work in south and central Orange County, where seven cities support it, plus the CHP and the county sheriff’s office.

Each volunteer is assigned to be on call for three 12-hour shifts each month and to serve a shift as a backup.

Sandy Hill of Mission Viejo, among the 25 in Orange County who took the first 55-hour training course, is such a staunch supporter she’s now its crisis team manager. She has been assigned everything you can imagine: suicides, traffic deaths, fires, heart attacks in the middle of the night, the Westminster water tank rupture. Yet no crisis is considered too small, even emotional support for a 10-year-old who felt guilty because his dog had died.

What Hill has learned is that people who are shocked by a loved one’s unexpected death, or other tragedies, are glad she’s there.

“Most people in a crisis welcome the support of other people,” Hill said. “We provide practical information, but most just want to have someone to listen to them talk about what they’re going through.”

Some practical tasks are immediate, like handling calls to the mortuary or a coroner, or helping reach out-of-town family members. That can mean anywhere from six to 10 hours of hand-holding help. How many of us are ready to put ourselves through that at all hours of the night?

“It takes courage and compassion,” Hill said. “It takes courage to set aside the tragedy that’s just happened so you can concentrate on being helpful.”

Not everybody can do it. Only a handful of those first trained in Orange County remain in the emotionally draining volunteer role. Many drop out before the training is completed. Once a call comes, you’re pressed immediately into putting your people skills to work.

“You develop an appreciation for life,” Hill said, “But you also learn to accept the reality of death.”

TIP promises a response time within 20 minutes. Lt. Ron Smith, spokesman for the Costa Mesa Police Department, says he can’t recall a time TIP was ever late.

“They never show up with an agenda,” Smith said, “And they let us do our job. They’re there to assist and do the right thing.”

TIP’s Orange County chapter was begun by then-Mission Viejo Mayor George Lowe, a firefighter who had seen TIP’s efforts work in other counties.

Cherri Myers inquired about TIP two years ago, but was reluctant to volunteer at first, thinking the trauma might be too much for her.

Myers had just lost a 19-year-old daughter, who died after a lifelong illness. But Myers and her other two children got so much support from friends at the time, it made her think what it might be like for those without someone to turn to immediately. So she decided to take the plunge with TIP.

Myers got an early baptism of fire: a freeway accident in which a teenager was killed and two other teens were badly injured. She passed the grisly scene en route to the hospital and thought, “Please God, let me know the right thing to say.”

She must have said the right thing. She stayed six hours and got warm hugs from two separate families who spoke no English.

Myers was at home the afternoon of May 3 when she saw the TV news about the crash at the Southcoast Early Childhood Learning Center. Moments later she was called to the scene. So were a dozen others from TIP, but Myers lived so close she got there first.

She was immediately assigned to assist Cindy Soto, mother of 4-year-old Sierra Soto, one of the two children killed. At first Soto didn’t seem to respond to this stranger in her life. But Myers shared with her the tragedy of losing her own daughter, and it seemed to help. Myers was by Soto’s side throughout the night. She helped arrange for Soto’s minister to be there and helped orchestrate the calls to other family members. Her biggest job, she said, was to keep Soto healthy because the mother was so paralyzed by the tragedy.

“I kept telling her, ‘You have to breathe,’ ” Myers said.

After that tragic day, Myers wanted to do more. She bought Soto a purple angel pin to let her know her thoughts were with her.

A week later, she learned that Soto had been asking for her, and they made plans to meet. When Myers arrived, Soto was wearing the purple angel. They talked for hours. And maybe Myers could sense that, at least this once, she’d said and done the right thing.

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Monday and Thursday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling (714) 564-1049 or by e-mail at jerry.hicks@latimes.com.