The kindness (and skilled quickness) of strangers

It was supposed to be a father-son outing, an evening playing football and baseball at Macalester's Leonard Center sports facility in St. Paul.

Getting together to toss a ball around was a bit of a family ritual for Jon Lurie, a visiting professor of creative writing at Macalester, and his 11-year-old son, Malcolm.

"We are constant companions," said Lurie. "We have a father-son relationship, but we are also best friends."

So, like they did a few days each week, they hit the gym together. But this time, they never made it past the reception desk.

As he was signing in, Lurie suddenly felt dizzy. He started to lie down, but instead collapsed face first onto the floor as his shocked son stood by.

Lurie remembers thinking: "I don't want to die."

"It's a horrible feeling to have that happen with your son standing next to you," he said.

It's what happened while he was unconscious that makes Lurie one of the more thankful guys in town this week: the quick and dramatic actions of strangers.

As soon as Lurie went down, the desk clerk ran into a gym, where a volleyball game was in progress, seeking help.

Kim Chandler, athletic director for Macalester, heard the commotion and grabbed an automated external defibrillator, or AED. She and building manager Soren Nelson rushed to Lurie. Each had responded to a heart attack before, and in each instance the victim had died. In fact, Chandler's experience, at a previous school of employment, had caused her to campaign for AEDs there.

At Macalester, everyone who works in the center is trained in lifesaving techniques. Amazingly, Chandler and Nelson had been recertified the day before Lurie's visit.

"He was in bad shape," said Chandler. "He didn't have a pulse and he wasn't breathing. He started to turn blue."

Lurie had swiped his membership card at 7:51 p.m. By 7:53, softball coach Tom Cross had called 911 and they were applying the AED, which advised them to shock Lurie. They jump-started his heart, and after two cycles of CPR, Lurie began breathing. Finally, he spoke.

"The first thing he did was ask for his son," said Chandler.

Basketball coaches Ellen Thompson and Tim Whittle had whisked Malcolm away from the unsettling scene. Malcolm was composed enough to give them key medical and family information. He knew his dad had previously gone to the U of M hospitals, and he remembered his sister's phone number.

"Malcolm was, for a moment, all alone in the world," Lurie said. "I'm really grateful for the way they handled the situation with him. And people see him for a bit of a hero for how he responded. He didn't cry until his mother got him home."

Lurie would later learn that without prompt application of the AED, "I had less than a 10 percent chance of surviving a trauma known as sudden cardiac death."

Because of those heroes, Lurie can fulfill a Thanksgiving promise to Malcolm, a huge fan of the New England Patriots.

On Thursday, father and son will attend the Patriots' game in Detroit.

Meanwhile, Chandler has a photo of Malcolm on her desk at work. "I look at that and realize how important it is, that it means Jon will be able to watch his kids grow up," she said.