THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, February 7, 1997 TAG: 9702060174
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 06 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: COVER STORY
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: 136 lines
NED LANGHORNE HAS MADE a lifetime out of serving others.
As a young boy he worked on his daddy's farm in Pulaski. In World War II Langhorne, an Army officer, fought with General Patton's 3rd Army and was awarded the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart.
But it's the Virginia Beach Rescue Squad that has benefited more than anything else from Langhorne's generosity. Not only has he served the all-volunteer squad for 43 years, the last 10 as an advisory member, he also secured the funds for a new $95,000 ambulance, which arrived Feb. 1, and is helping to acquire another one.
Last month the squad bestowed the distinguished advisor emeritus title upon Langhorne, the second given in the squad's history. R. Bradshaw Pulley received the first one last January.
Langhorne's 43 years with the squad is the longest span of any of the 841 volunteer members in the 11 stations, according to Bill Kiley, deputy director of Emergency Medical Services. The next closest member, Bruce Edwards, has served more than 30 years.
``That's a big feat when you compare Ned to the other members,'' said Kiley. ``If we can hold them five years, I'm happy.''
Administrative Lt. Virginia Gilpin said that Langhorne has helped to shape what Station 14 is today, a 100-volunteer force that answers more than 7,000 calls a year with 10 vehicles on a $200,000 operating budget.
Station 14, formerly at 20th Street and Arctic Avenue, moved to a state-of-the-art facility on 17th Street. Langhorne, of course, also helped spearhead construction on the new building, which was dedicated Nov. 4, 1995.
There's a world of difference from when Langhorne joined in 1953. Then, two dozen men served in the 1-year-old squad with a broken down Cadillac ambulance (bought for $1), a small boat for water rescues and a donated laundry truck used as a salvage vehicle. Standard Oil Company had given the squad three metal buildings.
``Ask any of the members how important Ned has been to the squad - he gave excellent advice as captain and has always been very proud of the squad,'' Gilpin said. ``I'm real proud of Ned. My life is better for having known him.''
J. Peter Holland III, the founder of the rescue squad, echoed those sentiments. ``Ned wasn't any different from anyone else,'' said Holland, a retired lawyer who has known Langhorne since 1938 when they both attended the University of Virginia. ``I worked with him on certain cases. He and I get along just great. He's a man's man.''
He's also a quiet, soft-spoken man who is clearly uncomfortable being in the limelight. Just ask him why he thinks he was chosen for the advisor emeritus award and watch him squirm.
``I don't want to give the impression that I'm real pleased with myself,'' said Langhorne, a compactly built man with a ramrod-straight stance who keeps in better shape than most men half his age by working out at Wareing's Gym every afternoon. ``I really think the focus of this should be the rescue squad, not me.''
Langhorne, who lives at the Oceanfront, is known around town for that kind of humbleness. Laura Patton, director of development for the squad, calls him ``one of the nicest gentlemen I've ever met.''
From a female perspective, especially, Langhorne is unfailingly polite. He holds doors open for women and stands when one enters or leaves a room. You'll never find him wearing his University of Virginia ball cap inside a building.
Gilpin remembered his kindness when she became a member in 1973. ``There was a group of women who came in 1972, the first ones,'' she said. ``There was a little resistance from others, but Ned was helpful. He's a very caring person, very sensitive to people's needs.''
That sensitivity is what led Langhorne to the rescue squad in the first place. An owner of an insurance agency, Langhorne felt the need to serve. He retired from Brown-Arris-Langhorne in 1988.
But back in 1953 there were no emergency medical technicians or paramedics. Langhorne entered the squad as an American Red Cross first-aider and eventually became an EMT. He was captain in 1960 and again in 1969.
``The rescue squad gives you a sense of appreciation for your health; you see some really sad situations out there,'' he said.
In the beginning Langhorne drove the Cadillac ambulance home at night and took it to work every morning. He was on call from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., assisting at automobile accidents, poisonings, heart attacks, attempted suicides, suicides, births and other calls. Langhorne delivered four babies during his active tenure. One incident involving a soldier who was hit by a car at night in the 1960s has stayed in Langhorne's mind.
``Both of his legs were almost severed between the ankles and the calves and were turned around backward,'' he said grimly. ``He had on combat boots and we had to leave them on or his feet would have come off.''
The inclination to help people extended to Virginia Beach General Hospital, where Langhorne has served on the board of directors for 25 years. He's also a longtime member and senior warden of Eastern Shore Chapel Episcopal Church. Appropriately, Langhorne was given the Sertoma Club's Service to Mankind award in 1969 and the Division of Emergency Medical Services' Medal of Merit in 1984.
He still serves the rescue squad as a life member and an invaluable advisor. Kiley said that during meetings Langhorne is the type of person who ``sits very quietly and listens to everything.
``But when he talks, everyone listens,'' Kiley said. ``And 99.9 percent of the time he's right on target.''
The only time a hint of vanity appears is when Langhorne is asked his age. He's not telling. All he'll admit to is being born on June 18 and graduating from college in 1941 with a degree in economics.
``You figure it out,'' he said and laughed. ``I'm single. If people know how old I am, I'll never get another date.''
Langhorne married in 1958, had one daughter, Emily, and divorced in 1972. That's his only regret. ``Anybody who gets divorced has regrets,'' he said. ``She's a very nice person and still lives here. We're very cordial with each other.''
With his genteel Southern drawl and charming ways, cordial is an appropriate description of Langhorne. ``My mother's influence was a total delight,'' he recalled. ``She dictated my life not through harshness but kindness. She was a great lady.''
He relaxes by going to the gym and he likes to listen to jazz. The most fun for him, he said, is having a group of friends on his party barge to eat, drink and swim.
And, in keeping with the adrenalin rush of rescue squad work, Langhorne loves to drive sports cars. Fast.
Back in the 1960s he and Peter Holland owned Thunderbird coupes and used to drag race down Pacific Avenue at night. Now he owns a black Mitsubishi 300 GT, which tempts him just as much.
Driving expertly through the Oceanfront recently, Langhorne pulled up to a light on Pacific Avenue and looked over at a passenger.
``Do you want to feel how fast this car can go?'' he asked, a devilish glint in his brown eyes. And, laughing, he added, ``I would have been a damn good race car driver.''
But Langhorne wouldn't change anything about his life. He's satisfied with what he has done and is proud of his association with the rescue squad.
``The rescue squad has meant so much to me,'' he said. ``I've made lasting friendships and had the ability to help those in distress. That's really what it's all about.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photos by DAVID B. HOLLINSWORTH
With 43 years of volunteering for the Virginia Beach Rescue Squad to
his credit, it's a sure thing that Ned Langhorne is pictured in all
the squad photos behind him.
Langhorne and his dog, Rusty, relax at home.
Langhorne was presented the Lifetime Members award in 1963.