Twenty years on, Paul Henderson marvels upon the heroic efforts of a couple of Good Samaritans who brought him back to life at the edge of an idyllic stream in the Blue Mountains.
The retired graphic designer and lacrosse player had been cycling along the Osler Bluff Road on the Labour Day weekend as the summer of 2004 began to wane. A leisurely bike ride, he thought, would be a great way to get his legs limber in preparation for the hockey season.
He thought a spot alongside Silver Creek would make a perfect rest stop. The avid fisherman looked down into the water to see if he could spot any salmon.
“There was one as long as your leg,” he recounts, clearly remembering some of the details of that day. “Then I heard someone call my name.”
He turned around to see, Rob Bramwell who he knew from hockey and the YMCA, and Henderson called him over to look at the salmon.
“And just at that instant I just went down.”
Bramwell, a former ski patroller trained in advance first aid, felt, but couldn’t find a pulse. He dragged Henderson off the road to safety.
“I thought he fainted,” recalls Bramwell who was a father of young children at the time. “I noticed his eyes were open. But he was not there.”
He started CPR compressions and asked a couple who had stopped to call emergency services. At some point a volunteer firefighter from Clearview Township was at the scene and jumped in, providing the breaths in between Bramwell’s compressions.
Bramwell describes the scene as chaos. He wasn’t confident he was doing the right thing, despite his years of training, and he knew the chances of success were slim. And there was cracking, like dried spaghetti noodles, as he pushed, knowing that some ribs were breaking.
“CPR is not pleasant,” he concludes.
Paramedics arrived with a defibrillator. Bramwell believes one of them later said it had been 4.5 minutes since they were called. The combined efforts brought Henderson back, allowing him to repeat the story and enjoy the next 20 years as an active retiree who, at age 88, remains incredibly active.
When he stood up, Bramwell was surprised to see a crowd of about 20 people had surrounded him. And he looked down to see that his knees were bleeding from having kneeled and working so intently on the gravel surface.
Henderson remembers being fully conscious in the ambulance when one of the paramedics turned to him and said: “You know Paul, those two guys just saved your life.
“Everything had to line up that day,” Henderson adds.
Henderson later learned the chances of surviving his episode was in the five-per-cent range. Had the right people with the right skills not been on hand at that exact moment, the outcome would have been dramatically different.
From the Collingwood hospital, Henderson was taken to what is now called the Southlake Regional Health Centre in Newmarket where two stents were inserted into blocked arteries.
“I think in eight weeks I was back playing hockey,” says Henderson.
Henderson’s path to Craigleith, like many retiring in the area, traces back to the Toronto area – specifically Etobicoke and Mimico, where he grew up. After high school he apprenticed in graphic arts working on the Eatons’ catalogue, that later led to other major publications and retail catalogues.
Skiing, of course, led him to the area where he bought a place with his former wife. He lives there still with his cat. His three children are grown and Henderson has four grandchildren.
As a young man, he was a competitive lacrosse player, and was on the Port Credit Sailors team which won the 1960 Mann Cup, which is awarded to Canadian senior men's box lacrosse champions. He remains a member for the Ontario Lacrosse Hall of Fame.
He played until age 34 and then coached the sport.
He also played hockey, but that ended when, at the age of 80, he got a knee replacement. He still skates with his new knee and a new hip.
He is also frequently seen at the Collingwood YMCA where he works out, continuing a lifelong passion. He’s still active with the Georgian Bay anglers and he loves being in the woods, often venturing out on hikes with his family.
Henderson and Bramwell, whom he credits with saving his life, frequently get together and, inevitably, that tale of survival, or rather revival, surfaces at some point.
The two are planning for lunch again, the mark the anniversary this fall.
“I’ve got 20 lunches out of him now,” chuckles Bramwell who has done the math on the combined cost, concluding he has been paid handsomely for his efforts.
“If anyone tells you the CPR course is a waste of time, well, maybe not,” Bramwell adds on a serious note.
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