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Rachel Cartier says 35 years is a long time for a volunteer service to not only survive, but to thrive. To mark the occasion, the corps will celebrate its 35th anniversary on June 22 in Madbury, N.H. The private, non-profit Durham Ambulance Corps was established in 1968 in memory of the late Dr. George G. McGregor, a longtime and beloved Durham physician. The corps has seen hundreds of volunteers pass through its ranks, including more than 20 who are now physicians and dozens of others now employed as paramedics, EMTs, nurses and other health care providers, says Patrick Ahearn '78, DAC's operations vice president. Most started with DAC when they were UNH undergraduates, he adds.

Erin Kelly '02, left, and Travis Fleury '05, check over the ambulance's equipment.

DAC, like UNH, has a long list of distinguished alumni, including Donald Bliss '73, '79G, state fire marshal and director of Homeland Security. Henny says one of the primary reasons that the corps prospers "is the symbiosis between the university and DAC," including a strong EMT class.

More than half of the current DAC membership is comprised of UNH students. Fleury, for example, is a sophomore business major from Pembroke, N.H. He took an EMT course while a senior in high school, joined DAC as a freshman and was averaging as many as 90 hours a month at DAC before his class work started demanding more of his time. (All volunteers are required to be on call for at least 48 hours or answer a minimum of four calls each month.) Argue, a lanky senior psychology major from Somersworth, N.H., squeezes his DAC on-call duty between a pre-med course load, a job at the Sheraton Hotel in Portsmouth, N.H., and his work with the Odyssey House in Hampton, N.H. He hopes to attend medical school after a three-month volunteer stint with a medical clinic in Sikkim, India, this fall.

Given that there's no pay and that, not unlike being a new parent, the job requires nights of little or no sleep and a distinct possibility of dealing with unpleasant messes, what attracts people to DAC? For some, it's the camaraderie. For most, it's a desire to help. "Sometimes it's hard, particularly when you have to give up sleep or a meal," says Henny. "But it comes back to, 'Somebody needs my help--that's why I'm here.' Whether we get paid is not the motivating factor. A paycheck would be nice, but for the majority of our members it's that core feeling of being able to help somebody else out, to make someone feel better about a crisis in their life."

"I'm glad I could be part of the success story," quipped professor Marty Lee, center, as her posed for a photo with students Travis Fleury '05, left, Lynn Gentile '03, and Rob Burnham '03, who came to his aid after a heart attack.

At 6:57 a.m. on Saturday, the alarm sounds again. Brian Cartier, asleep on a couch, rubs his eyes. "Three minutes before the end of my shift," he says, but rolls off the couch without hesitation. "The alarm goes off, and you don't think about yourself," says Rachel Cartier. "You think about the patient."

Smith, Cartier, Argue and I head off to a private home in Madbury, N.H. An 87-year-old man is experiencing sharp pain in his hip. His son-in-law found him in bed, unable to move, and we learn that he had fallen earlier. Complicating matters is diabetes and congestive heart problems. Smith asks "Leon" a series of questions that he answers correctly and then dryly observes, "Oh, I'm all there."

"The level of consciousness is key," Smith tells me afterwards. "It's always important to talk to your patients because the brain is the most sensitive organ and will be the first indication that something is wrong. Sometimes with older people who have diabetes, they can't feel the pain. So I was concerned about his heart."

Henny would have been proud of Smith's bedside manner and his on-the-mark evaluation. "Sometimes the most rewarding aspect of the job is just seeing someone who was frightened and in crisis and then seeing them smile by the time we got them to the hospital," she says. "We try to instill in our members the human component. Sometimes holding a hand is going to be just as important as taking a real fast blood pressure or other medical skill." For Henny, the most gratifying part of her job is "watching people grow as EMTs, to actually perform these life-saving skills and to see that they're up to the challenge--then you know you made a difference."

On the way to Dover, we lurch over a few frost heaves, and someone good-naturedly apologizes to Leon about the uncomfortable ride. "Not as smooth as my Cadillac," he says with a smile. How ironic, I think, that DAC's first ambulance 35 years ago was a hulking 1959 Cadillac wagon. At Wentworth-Douglass, Smith checks in with Leon one more time before we leave. "Thank you, for everything," Leon tells him. "It was our pleasure, sir," Smith replies. "You take care."

Brion O'Connor '83 is a freelance writer based in Hamilton, Mass. Names of patients have been changed to protect their privacy.

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