It started out as a typical homework confusion turning into a local hero rescue mission for an eight year old boy.
A third grader in [insert city/state], Ryan Crosby sat on the dining table just after sunset, pencil in one hand and an arm with his head leaned against the other. His math textbook lay open, numbers and problems as riddles as opposed to assignments, filling his eyes.
He muttered: “How am I supposed to solve this one?”
Normally, Ryan enjoyed school. Matilda Crosby was always by his side, or otherwise, he could usually figure things out on his own. But this night felt different. The house was quiet—too quiet. Hours had also passed since Ryan had returned from school, but Matilda wasn’t home.
Ryan was frustrated and overwhelmed and remembered a secret that his mom told him if he ever needed help he never had to be scared to call 911.
Ryan picked up the phone then, with innocent logic humming uselessly through his brain and growing concern, forcing the phone from his hand.
“911. On the other end, the dispatcher came with a calm voice: “What’s your emergency?”
Ryan had come to me for help with my math homework.
There was a pause.
“Come again? The dispatcher was puzzled as you needed help with: ‘math…’?
“Ryan nodded,” My mom said if I ever need help, I can call 911.”
Though momentarily surprised by this, the dispatcher was soon able to flick through confusion to genuine fear. Ryan’s wasn’t joking; it just sounded desperate and alone. There was an adult present, she gently asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m all alone.”
It was nearly 10 p.m.
Within minutes, there was an officer dispatched to where Ryan was. He was alone in the house with no babysitter no family member and not a word from his mother.
“Ryan, where is your mom? One officer asked, ‘How long have you been here alone?’
He told Ryan he had let himself in after school using a spare key. He would wait for his mom to come home as usual. Yet her phone had been going directly to her voicemail, and she never did.
The officers began to look for something was wrong. The record on Matilda Crosby’s phone showed the last signal from a spot in the same remote part of town as an abandoned mill. Remote and unfrequented was a strange location.
A K9 unit was brought in. Caesar, the dog, picked up the scent with a scarf from Matilda’s bedroom and took officers down a desolate country road. They’d found a small car, its engine off and the windows partially open. There was a woman, unconsious, slumped across the front seat.
It was Matilda.
On the scene, paramedics stabilized her. In the ambulance she began to come around.
An officer called to Mrs. Crosby, ‘can you hear me?””
She slowly opened her eyes … and tried to tell whatever she remembered. She had come to visit her sister in a nearby town, had gone on a shortcut through the countryside, and stayed for a moment to shop. The heat had gotten to her. The doctors later said that she had suffered heat exhaustion and passed out behind the wheel.
Her phone had died. The night might have ended very differently had it not been for the cracked window allowing some air and the 911 call of her son, unexpected.
The officer told her: “Your son’s call probably saved your life.”
That night, however, soon after, Matilda came home assisted by the company of an officer. Ryan ran into her arms as soon as the front door opened.
“Mommy! Where were you? I missed you!” he cried.
Tears pooled in Matilda’s eyes as she held him tightly.
“You went about it about right, sweetheart.” You saved me,” she whispered.
And in the days that followed Ryan himself became a sort of local celebrity. News spread quickly through the community. Cards were sent from neighbors who stopped by to bring them, and he was mentioned by his school during the morning announcements.
Ryan, however, seemed to ignore the attention. For him, it was simple. That was just what his mom had said, he was only doing what she’d told him to do, ask for help when he needed it.
A math problem can even become miraculous sometimes.
