THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, February 23, 1995 TAG: 9502230349
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MIKE MATHER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: Medium: 75 lines
Winds howled at gale force, driving 5-foot waves into the beach at 24th Street. The pale beam of a spotlight glanced over the dark swells, searching for a suicidal man who, just after 1 a.m. Wednesday, had plunged into the icy Atlantic.
And there he was, bobbing in the 40-degree ocean.
Sgt. Mike Ronan stood on the beach and braced against the bitter wind.
The police dive team had already been dispatched, but it would take too long for them to arrive. A rescue boat would arrive too late as well.
The man would die soon. The cold water was draining his life.
On the beach next to Ronan was officer Russell Christe.
Ronan, 34, was a member of the police dive team before he was promoted to sergeant. Christe, 35, was a former Navy SEAL.
It was a fortunate combination.
Ronan turned to Christe. ``What do you think?'' the sergeant asked. ``I can't order you to go with me.''
``Let's go,'' Christe answered.
Ten minutes earlier, Ronan had been in the 2nd Precinct building finishing paperwork when he heard the voice of veteran officer Norman Pipkin on the police radio. Pipkin was trying to reason with a distressed 20-year-old man at the 24th Street Park.
Someone suggested to Pipkin that one of the man's friends might be able to calm him. But the plan unexpectedly backfired.
As soon as the friend arrived, the distressed man bolted into the ocean.
Christe, a six-year police veteran and member of the Naval Reserve, was also in the 2nd Precinct building. Unlike Ronan, whose shift was only an hour or so from ending, Christe was just beginning his 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. assignment.
After arriving at the beach, Ronan and Christe discarded their equipment-laden belts and stripped to their T-shirts and pants. Then they forged into the ocean.
They battled through the wind-whipped surf until the breakers turned to rolling swells. They swam perhaps 100 feet into the dark ocean, the frigid water sapping their energy.
Ronan had tucked handcuffs into his pocket in case the man fought them, but they weren't needed. The man's eyes were glazed and his body limp when the officers grabbed him.
They locked their arms around the man's and began swimming ashore, towing him headfirst.
``Don't fight us,'' Ronan told the man. ``We'll take care of you.''
Each officer tried to touch the bottom, but the bottom wasn't there. They kicked and paddled, struggling to shore with the limp man.
Their limbs were numbing. Their muscles were weakening. Twice, the man slipped below the surface. Twice they yanked him above.
Finally, exhausted, they reached shore.
While other officers grabbed the nearly lifeless man, Ronan and Christe lumbered to their cars and cranked the heat.
``Then,'' Ronan said, ``the shakes set in.''
All three were taken to Virginia Beach General Hospital for hypothermia. The officers were released a few hours later. The man they saved checked into a mental health facility.
``When I got home, I jumped into a hot shower, and then piled on the blankets,'' Ronan said. ``And I haven't been warm yet. I'm sitting here with a 20-ounce cup of coffee, and I'm still not warm.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photos
Sgt. Mike Ronan
Officer Russell Christe
KEYWORDS: RESCUE VIRGINIA BEACH POLICE DEPARTMENT by CNB