Chicago, IL—The Internet is
adding information at a rapid pace. I
often wondered what happened to a suicidal woman I helped pull from the Chicago
River in July of 1976. Today I found the
tragic answer.
It was just after eating a
rather large breakfast I was in my personal car Westbound on the Congress
Street Expressway Bridge by the huge post office building.
Suddenly in the stop and go rush
hour traffic I saw a women bleeding from both wrists climbing on the South side
railing of the bridge and suddenly she jumped into the filthy water below.
I pulled to the right and
stopped my car in an effort to deal with the obvious emergency. I crossed all the lanes of traffic on
foot. I discovered a man had broken the
glass covering a life preserver and managed to hopelessly tangle its attached rope
to the bridge.
I could see the woman
floundering below and ran down to the embankment to aid her. As I was running I saw a man later identified
as David M. McCauley dive into the water after the woman.
I was no champion swimmer and
dreaded the thought of the nasty sewer like water and fighting with this
suicidal woman in efforts to pull her out.
Whatever reluctance I may
have had disappeared when it was obvious that Mr. McCauley may be killed trying
to save this woman by himself.
I quickly striped off my gun belt and
uniform. Two women had come to the
riverbank and were watching. I told one
of them to run and call the police and fire departments (this was before the
911 system was established). I asked the
other woman to please watch out for my gun and clothing.
I swam out to the pair in
time to see that the woman had Mr. McCauley’s head under water. As I tried to help she managed to pull me
under too. Finally she gave in and we
were able to tow her to shore.
There was no way out of the
river because at the time it had sheer high walls on both sides. We soon could hear sirens
and saw firemen lowering a ladder into the water. A fire Lt. jumped in and helped us push the
woman up the ladder. Thankfully a fire station was very close to us.
McCauley and I got out of the
water and dried off with white fire department sheets. I put my uniform on and gave my car keys to
cops that had responded.
A sergeant from the First
District (I was assigned to 012 just West) told me to get into his car because
he was taking me to the hospital. We drove behind the ambulance transporting the woman. I soon
became nauseous and was ready to vomit.
That’s when the good sergeant flipped on the lights and siren.
Moments later we were at Rush St. Luke's Hospital's emergency room doors where I got out and upchucked in the driveway (that was much
better than in the patrol car!)
Other officers made a
hospitalization case report and I was given a prophylactic injection because of
my exposure to that nasty river water.
The next day I saw my picture
on the front page of the Chicago Tribune and the story accompanying it. Somehow it did not feel good. This came at the expense of the high profile exposure of a
woman’s emotional troubles. They had
published this troubled woman’s name along with the distant photos they had her in the actual rescue.
Mr. McCauley was a district
sales manager from Allstate Insurance.
McCauley was appropriately put in for a Carnage Hero Foundation Award
and received it. I received a Department Commendation and a second special
award from the late Mayor Richard J. Daley.
As to what happened to the
suicidal woman that’s the rest of this story.
Billie Gail Hubacher, 38 was placed in the psychiatric unit of the
hospital after they tended to her self-inflicted wrist wounds. Soon they released her for future out patient
treatment.
I knew nothing else until this
morning when I discovered she died just short of a year later at 39 years of age
on May 1, 1977. I can only assume that
Hubacher finally succeeded in taking her own life.
Depression can be so
deadly. I don’t know what demons
Hubacher was fighting in her last year on earth. Suicide at such a young age was certainly no
answer to her problems.
Hubacher was obviously an
emotional train wreck. She may have been
pretty and well educated but I could never tell from that fateful
encounter. Did that really matter in the
end?
I can’t imagine what I could
have done to help. However in retrospect
nearly four decades later I could have simply visited her at the hospital just
to let her know I cared that she lived.
I should have taken the time
to tell her the truth that there was much better life and adventures still
ahead for her.
I am indeed my brother’s (in
this case my sister’s) keeper. Here I know
I failed in my duty as a human being.
Comments
That's my experience, anyway.
Paul, I know it can be haunting, and you're a few years ahead of me, so it's kinda silly for me to advise... but this experience, and your rather oversized sense of duty, are part of what made you the good guy I perceive you to be now.
Anyway, sorry for your sense of loss.
I'm long retired an living in Italy today. I have a wife, children and grandchildren. Be proud of your service I'm proud of mine.
Had you not done what you did both may have drowned. Don't beat yourself for the woman's suicide. She lived another year because of you.