BERKELEY – Gerald LaCrosse and Patricia Kunkle met once before, five years ago, under much worse circumstances. They met again just after the anniversary of the crash that almost took his life. And he’s sure her intervention is what saved him.
Gerry was working inside his hot dog cart der Wunder Wiener on June 11, 2018. It was before 8 a.m. He wasn’t open, just doing some routine work when an SUV left the roadway and plowed into the stand.
The events of that day were fuzzy, and so much of it had to be told to him later. One thing that he was informed was that there was a nurse who had pulled over to help him. He had a head injury, and was on blood thinners. He’s sure that she saved his life and he never knew who she was.
After telling The Berkeley Times that he’d love to meet her and thank her personally, the article went online. Her proud husband tagged her in the story.
Their reunion was sweet, and they couldn’t say enough nice things about each other.
First, they walked along Route 9, by the original umbrella that has been waiting there for five years. Then, they made their way back to the trailer. Patricia was happy to move back; she got nervous with him close to the road. Everyone was happy to see that there are now barriers in front of the cart.
“They’re going to have to aim for me,” Gerry joked.
The two compared notes, going through what happened that fateful day, filling in holes in what each other knew.
Gerry said he doesn’t remember if he saw the SUV hit.
“I couldn’t hear anything. The sound of the crash was so great,” he said.
Kunkle got off from work at around 7:30 a.m. at the hospital in Lakewood.
“I saw the white truck crash,” she said. She immediately pulled over to see if she could help. The driver was fine. There were two men sifting through the debris and they said to her “He’s still in there!” She couldn’t believe that anyone could be in that wreckage.
She had a bit of gauze in her pocket still from work, but that wasn’t enough. One of the men had a first aid kit in his truck and she went to work using that.
Gerry remembers being trapped but he wasn’t panicked. Rather, he was strangely calm. He knew his defibrillator wasn’t working, so he thought “This is it. this is how it ends.” When darkness gave way to light, he thought he was seeing the light but it was the debris being lifted off him.
He saw a hand coming up, grabbing debris, and he recognized the sleeve of the work shirt as belonging to Frank, who he knew was already nearby before the crash. His hearing started to come back because he could hear a hiss. He said “Frank, Frank that’s propane!”
After that, Gerry’s memories fade out. The next thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital. Patricia was able to fill in the blanks.
“When we got the debris off, you said ‘Hi. I’m Gerry!'”
Gerry was amused that he apparently introduced himself five years ago. He didn’t realize he had the presence of mind to hold a conversation.
“You talked the whole time,” Patricia said. “I kept you talking because I didn’t want you to stop talking.”
“Thank God you were there,” Gerry said. “I’m so glad you didn’t work overtime.”
Gerry wanted Patricia to meet his family. They were on their way to der Wunder Wiener to meet her.
“You’ve got to meet my granddaughter,” he told her. “You have given me so much pleasure just the last five years with her.”
His wife, Beverly and daughter, Michelle Schiel, gave her hugs of thanks.
“Words can’t…” Schiel said, unable to continue.
“It’s a miracle,” Beverly said.
Both of them were humble about their contributions.
“I was just a small piece of the puzzle,” Patricia said. “You’re such an icon for the community.”
“I don’t want to be a celebrity,” Gerry said. “I just want to sell hot dogs.”
Five years went by quickly, and yet customers are watching the days drag on. Seeing the new building go up have made mouths water with anticipation, like Pavlov ringing a bell. Even when the families were outside the cart, someone drove up, asking if they were open.
Gerry said there’s still no set date on the re-opening, as it’s tied up in bureaucracy.
Their conversation was punctuated by people driving by, honking in support.
“It’s a wonderful sound,” he said.
