We were standing on a jam-packed deck at The Boulevard Tennis Club, watching the 40-and-over final of the annual “King of the Hill” tournament, when the P.A. system interrupted the festive buzz with a chilling announcement.
“Is there a doctor in the house?”
When nobody responded, the request was repeated – this time with a greater sense of urgency. Someone said a man had a heart attack while dining in the clubhouse.
Immediately, I turned to my longtime tennis buddy, Allan Bentley, and said, “Get in there!”
Bentley isn’t a doctor. He is, however, a retired Toronto firefighter who spent more than 32 years responding to emergencies of all kinds in Canada’s most-populated city.
I knew he could help.
Twice in the past three years when we were dining with our wives at local restaurants, he had answered similar calls and successfully revived older men in apparent cardiac distress.
Once at the Ocean Grill.
Once at Trattoria Dario.
“I’m 3-0,” Bentley said lightheartedly after another heroic effort in his seasonal hometown last week.
Actually, my snowbird friend is 4-0 here: Five years ago, he came to the rescue of another older man who began wobbling and experienced an apparent heart issue while waiting to purchase a ticket at the Majestic 11 movie theater.
But I missed that one.
Truth is, I didn’t witness the Ocean Grill incident, either – because it occurred after Bentley had left the table to use the restroom.
I was getting up to check on his whereabouts and well-being when I saw him walking back to the table.
As Bentley would tell us: He had been returning from the men’s room when he noticed that an older man had collapsed near the entrance to the restaurant, prompting him to investigate and offer to help.
After realizing the man had suffered a heart attack and was not responsive, Bentley made sure someone had called 911. He then began applying chest compressions and continued to do so until an Indian River County Fire Rescue crew arrived.
“I didn’t hang around, but I would assume they shocked him with the defibrillator,” he said. “He had a pulse when they took him away.”
Would the man have survived if Bentley hadn’t stepped in?
“Maybe not,” he said. “You just don’t know.”
The situation at Trattoria Dario, where an older man became unconscious and his head dropped face-first into his plate, turned out to be not as critical. But Bentley didn’t know the extent of the problem until he went through the ABC – airways, breathing, circulation – checklist.
He quickly determined the man was breathing and had a pulse.
“He was unconscious when I first came over, but I was able to get him to respond,” Bentley recalled. “I never heard the what, where and why, but I just got him comfortable, calmed him down and assured him there was someone there to help.
“That’s the biggest thing,” he added. “I held his hand, looked him in the eye, told him he was going to be OK. Then the Fire Rescue guys showed up and took over.”
Bentley modestly downplays his role in these crises, but those of us who know him well aren’t at all surprised he is so willing and able to handle life-or-death scenarios.
He’s not merely a good guy to have around in an emergency. He’s a good guy.
To be sure, though, he’s not in any way seeking glory.
“I do NOT jump to the front of the line,” said Bentley, who has been visiting Vero Beach almost annually since 1979, bought a condo in the Tarpon Drive community in 2013 and became a seasonal resident after retiring from Toronto Fire Services in 2015.
“My first reaction is: Is there someone here more qualified than me?” he added. “If there is, I’m more than happy to pass it off. All I do is calm people down and try to reassure them. But if I need to do something, I can.
“In good conscience, I couldn’t just walk away and not at least try to do something to help.”
That’s why he took charge of the situation last week at The Boulevard, where 78-year-old Doug Sweeny – who was dining with club owner Tony Randazzo and their regular golf group – appeared to have had a heart attack.
According to Randazzo, Sweeny had just finished telling a joke when his eyes rolled back, his head dropped, his skin color turned ashen, and he lost consciousness.
“We thought he was dying, or was already dead,” Randazzo said. “Someone checked his pulse and said he didn’t have one. We called 911, but we thought he was gone. It was frightening because we didn’t know what to do.”
Then Bentley arrived.
He found Sweeny unconscious and slumped over in his chair, so he promptly picked him up, laid him on the floor and elevated his legs before proceeding to assess the man’s condition.
“His skin was gray and sweaty … all the signs of a cardiac problem,” Bentley said. “Someone mentioned that he wasn’t breathing, but you’ve got to check. The first rule is: Do no harm.
“So after laying him down, I gave him a pain stimulus – grabbed the muscle between his head and neck – and got no response,” he added. “I checked his pulse, and it was very, very weak.”
Bentley explained that it’s often difficult to find an extremely weak pulse in the commotion of the moment.
Fortunately, a club staffer had retrieved the on-premises defibrillator, which is equipped with pads that detect whether the victim has a pulse.
“I felt I had found a pulse, but we were able to confirm it,” Bentley said. “It was weak, but there was no need to shock him. He was also breathing, though it very shallow.”
At one point, Sweeny vomited, but Bentley said he could see it was coming and turned the man’s head so he wouldn’t choke or inhale his discharge.
Eventually, Sweeny was able to respond – at least with his eyes – as Bentley held his hand, told him he was a former firefighter and tried to keep him calm until the Fire Rescue team showed up and transported him to Cleveland Clinic Indian River Hospital.
Reached by phone last weekend, Sweeny, who lives at Grand Harbor, said he didn’t remember much about the incident, other than he was starting to get up when he felt woozy and blacked out.
He said a Fire Rescue member gave him an injection to raise his blood pressure and he was “awake and feeling fine” when he arrived at the hospital’s emergency room.
“I probably could’ve gone home, but they wanted to keep me overnight for observation,” Sweeny said. “The next night, my wife and I went to the Valentine’s Day dinner at Grand Harbor.”
Doctors at the hospital told Sweeny he had experienced Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, the symptoms of which can mimic a heart attack. He was released at noon Friday.
Sweeny then sent Bentley a text message, thanking him for his efforts: “Whatever you did, it worked! You saved my life!”
In a phone interview, Sweeny called Bentley his “new best friend,” adding, “This guy really knew what he was doing.”
Both men said the incident should serve as the impetus for more people to become trained in CPR and the use of defibrillators.
Randazzo said The Boulevard will add two more defibrillators on the tennis courts further from the clubhouse and offer courses in CPR and defibrillator use.
“When an Allan Bentley isn’t around, the rest of us might want to know the basics of CPR,” Sweeny said. “The staffs at clubs and restaurants should be trained to respond.”
Bentley, who said he responded to cardiac-related emergencies hundreds of times during his firefighting career, strongly agreed.
“Take a CPR course, know where the defibs are and how to use them, and don’t be afraid to get involved in you feel you can help,” he said. “And one more thing: Don’t hesitate to call 911.
“The emergency crews here are well-trained and well-equipped, and they have very good response times,” he added. “Get them on the site. In my years with Toronto Fire, I never went to a call where I was disappointed because there was no problem.”
Last week, it took only seven minutes for the Fire Rescue squad to get there. That’s impressive.
But so was Bentley.
Although his Canadian residence is a condo on the banks of Ontario’s Lake Muskoka, he considers Vero Beach to be home, too.
“This is my community,” Bentley said. “I volunteer when I can. I try to be a good neighbor. And I donate blood all the time. I have a rare blood type, AB negative, so it’s always in demand. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”
He paused briefly, then, with a wink and a smile, added: “It’s just the Canadian way – to help out.”
