There is an anxious crowd on the corner of Hungerford as we come lights and sirens down Park Street. A woman with tattooed arms waves for us to hurry. A man is on the ground with a crowd clustered around him. I can see another man kneeling over his chest. His arms together like he is doing CPR. â€œThey hit him twice,â€ a bystander says to me. “Lot of people packing it on this corner.”
â€œHe was just walking along and down he went,â€ another says.
â€œHe gave him four in the right,â€ the first man says, and then nodding toward a shorter man wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates hat, â€œand he gave him two in the left.â€
The man on the ground has his eyes open now and starts looking around as the crowd cheers.
â€œYou oded, man,â€ a man says to him, still holding the syringe with the atomizer on it.
â€œI did not,â€ he says. â€œWhat are you all looking?â€
â€œMan, you were out. I did CPR on you, man.â€
â€œNo, I fine,â€ he says. â€œI just fell out.â€
â€œNo, man,” a man with the 4 mg nasal spray in his hand says. “You werenâ€™t breathing. We gave you Narcan, man.â€
â€œNo, Iâ€™m good Iâ€™m good.â€
He insists he did not do drugs, but with the crowd’s backing, we get him on our stretcher and take him to the hospital. On the way, he admits he snorted a bag. This is the second time this week he has oded, he says.
In Tombstone, a man would drop a glass in a bar, and everyone would whip out their six-guns and point it at him. In Hartford, everyone is also packing. A man drops down in the street and everyone whips out their narcan. Just like the wild wild west.
Note: Park and Hungerford is also the twice a day location of the needle exchange van, where in addition to passing out clean needles, they provide narcan training and hand out free kits.