We docked the boat, secured it, grabbed our stuff and went to get lunch on the deck overlooking Narragansett Bay. The Newport Bridge looms large on the horizon, its majestic silhouette one of the things I love about Rhode Island. Enlisted men and women, contractors and visitors shared the space, and it was a pleasant hour spent at the Navy Yard in Newport.
The man who opened fire at a similar Navy Yard in Washington, DC may have joined us, he was in Newport right around that time. He called the Newport Police, told them he was hearing voices, and that people were using microwaves to disturb his sleep.
I have shared space with people hearing voices for decades, and the experience is chilling. One side of my brain insists the person is pulling my leg, the other keeps a close eye on things, ready to respond to an attack. It's the fight or flight mechanism working at full tilt during a psych transport, things change fast, and it is best to be prepared.
I felt secure while having lunch in Newport with my brother, the Naval War College sitting high on a hill overlooking the grounds, platoons of sailors doing drills, and a sense of infallibility exuding from the concrete buildings.
I bet the people in DC felt the same. Just like the thousands of medics doing psych transports every day, alone in the back of an ambulance, surrounded with glass and needles.