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9 injured, including newborn child, in ambulance rollover crash…See more

Posted on October 24, 2025 By Aga Co No Comments on 9 injured, including newborn child, in ambulance rollover crash…See more

DOUGHERTY COUNTY, Ga. (WALB) – A devastating and chaotic morning unfolded in Dougherty County this past Saturday, shaking the local community and emergency response teams to their core. Early around 7:00 a.m., a three-vehicle crash occurred at the busy intersection of Pine Avenue and Monroe Street, leaving eight people injured, including a newborn infant. What initially seemed like a routine morning quickly escalated into a scene of confusion, concern, and urgent medical attention.

The incident involved a Dougherty County EMS ambulance carrying three EMS personnel and two patients. Reports indicate that the ambulance, responding to an early morning call, collided with a Ford pickup at the intersection. The force of the collision then caused a nearby Buick Encore, which had been passing through the area, to be struck as well. The three vehicles were left crumpled, with debris scattered across the roadway. Bystanders described the scene as chaotic: tires smoking, shards of glass glinting in the early sunlight, and people running to assess injuries.

Emergency responders arrived almost immediately, rushing to provide aid to those affected. All nine people involved—including the ambulance passengers, the drivers, and the infant—were transported to Phoebe Main Hospital. Medical staff reported that thankfully, none of the injuries appeared life-threatening, though several patients required careful monitoring due to the shock, trauma, and potential complications from the accident. The newborn, in particular, was examined thoroughly to ensure there were no hidden injuries or stress-related effects.

Eyewitness accounts describe the terrifying moment as it happened. Several neighbors reported seeing a dark-colored van idling suspiciously near the scene late the previous night, which may have contributed to traffic congestion or distracted drivers. Tire tracks near the back fence of nearby properties suggested that one of the vehicles may have been moving hastily before impact. While the precise sequence of events is still under investigation, residents described the crash as a loud, sudden, and startling incident that reverberated through the neighborhood.

Dougherty County EMS officials emphasized that safety protocols had been followed meticulously. The ambulance personnel had ensured that patients were secured, safety equipment was engaged, and sirens and emergency lights were active. Despite these precautions, the unpredictable nature of traffic incidents and the involvement of multiple vehicles resulted in a serious collision. Authorities reassured the public that staff members acted with professionalism and adhered to established emergency procedures to minimize risk.

The crash has prompted an extensive investigation by local law enforcement and traffic safety officials. Investigators are examining all aspects of the incident, including vehicle speed, road conditions, visibility, and potential mechanical failures. Surveillance footage from nearby homes and businesses is being reviewed, along with statements from all drivers and passengers involved. Authorities are also assessing whether environmental factors, such as weather or road maintenance issues, may have contributed to the accident.

Community response has been immediate and compassionate. Neighbors and passersby offered assistance to the injured before paramedics arrived, helping to stabilize patients and keeping them calm. Many residents expressed gratitude for the quick response of emergency personnel, while others voiced concern over traffic safety and awareness in the area. Local social media groups were flooded with messages of support for the victims and their families, as well as calls for greater vigilance on the roads to prevent similar incidents in the future.

At Phoebe Main Hospital, medical staff worked diligently to assess and treat each injured person. Doctors and nurses attended to patients of all ages, from adults shaken by the crash to the vulnerable newborn who required careful observation. Hospital administrators praised EMS for their swift actions in delivering patients safely despite the chaos on the street. The hospital also provided counseling and emotional support to family members who had arrived anxiously, worried about the condition of their loved ones.

The incident has sparked wider discussions about emergency vehicle safety and the risks faced by first responders. Officials emphasized the importance of drivers giving way to ambulances and maintaining awareness in high-traffic areas, especially near intersections. “Our EMS personnel put their lives on the line every day,” said a spokesperson for Dougherty County EMS. “Even with strict adherence to safety procedures, accidents can happen. It’s a reminder to everyone on the road to remain vigilant, patient, and respectful of emergency vehicles.”

Though the investigation continues, the community has rallied around those affected by the crash. Local organizations, neighbors, and advocacy groups have offered assistance with medical expenses, transportation, and emotional support. Many volunteers have coordinated to provide meals, childcare, and other resources to families impacted by the incident. Social media campaigns highlighting the importance of road safety and the dedication of emergency personnel have also gained traction.

As authorities continue to piece together the chain of events that led to this collision, one fact remains clear: the dedication, courage, and professionalism of the EMS staff prevented what could have been a far more tragic outcome. Their prompt response ensured that all patients, including the most vulnerable, received immediate medical attention. Residents of Dougherty County are left with a powerful reminder of both the dangers of the road and the invaluable service provided by emergency responders every day.

In conclusion, while the crash at Pine Avenue and Monroe Street has left its mark on the community, it has also showcased resilience, compassion, and the commitment of those who serve on the frontlines. The investigation will continue in the coming weeks, but for now, the focus remains on the recovery of the injured and supporting the families affected by this shocking incident. Community leaders, hospital staff, and EMS personnel continue to work together to ensure that safety protocols are reviewed, lessons are learned, and such incidents are minimized in the future.

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  • I’m Sarah, thirty-four, a single mother of two, and a city bus driver. Not glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps the lights on. My daughter Lily is three; my son Noah isn’t even one yet. Their father vanished before Noah was born, leaving it to me and my mother, who helps however she can. Between the two of us, we trade sleep for survival — coffee for sanity. Most nights I clock out close to midnight. That’s when the city exhales. Streetlights hum softly, and the roads stretch out like endless ribbons of black. I always do one final walk-through before locking up my bus — checking for lost items, a forgotten purse, or a stray soda can rolling under a seat. It’s a ritual that keeps me grounded. That night, the cold air sliced at my face. My breath formed clouds against the fogged windows as I thought of home, of Noah’s tiny hand against my cheek — when I heard it: a faint, trembling sound from the back. At first, I thought it was the wind. Then it came again — not quite a cry, more a soft whimper. My heart slammed against my ribs as I walked down the aisle. In the last row, under a pink blanket dusted with frost, was a baby. She was impossibly small, her lips tinged blue, her fists limp. She wasn’t crying — only breathing shallow, fragile breaths. Panic hit like a tidal wave. I tore off my coat, scooped her up, and pressed her to my chest, whispering whatever words came. “Hey, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” No diaper bag, no note — until I spotted a small folded paper tucked in the blanket. It read: Please forgive me. I can’t take care of her. Her name is Emma. I didn’t think. I just ran, bolting off the bus into the freezing night, fumbling with my keys until my fingers froze. Somehow, I got to my car, turned the heat to full, and drove home with one arm wrapped around the child, her cold weight pressing against my heart. My mother met me at the door, eyes wide, fear written across her face. We didn’t speak. We moved on instinct — wrapping the baby in every soft thing we owned: quilts, towels, my winter coat. We sat by the heater, whispering prayers we hadn’t said since my childhood. I held her, rocked her, breathed warmth back into her tiny body. Her skin was ice. Her eyes stayed closed. A desperate thought struck me. I was still breastfeeding Noah, barely — he was weaning. Perhaps it could help. “Try,” my mother murmured. I did. For a long moment, nothing. Then, suddenly, she stirred, latched, and drank. Relief shattered me. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “She’s drinking. She’s alive.” We stayed awake until dawn, huddled together. By morning, her cheeks glowed pink, her tiny fists curling. When I finally called 911, the dispatcher’s voice trembled as I recounted the story. The paramedics arrived within minutes. One checked her pulse and smiled. “She’s stable,” he said. “You may have saved her life.” I sent them off with bottles of milk, a spare blanket, and Noah’s tiny hat. “Tell them she likes to be held close,” I said. “We will,” the medic promised. After they left, the house fell into thick silence. Baby lotion hung in the air, her pink blanket folded on the couch like something sacred. I tried to drink coffee, but my hands shook uncontrollably. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her blue lips turning warm against my chest. Three days later, while preparing roast chicken, I heard the sound — not a knock, but the quiet rumble of a powerful engine outside. Peeking through the curtain, I saw a black Rolls-Royce at the curb. It didn’t belong in my neighborhood. A tall man stepped out, silver hair immaculate, wool coat pristine, leather gloves on. He carried himself like a man who never had to ask twice. “Are you Sarah?” he asked. “I am,” I replied cautiously. “I believe you found a baby a few nights ago.” “Emma,” I whispered. “Is she okay?” “She’s alive,” he said softly. “Because of you.” He glanced at his gloved hands, then back at me. “I’m Henry — her grandfather.” We sat on the porch, wood creaking beneath us. Henry told me about his daughter, Olivia — her long battle with depression and addiction, the lost contact, the missing person reports, the countless searches. No one knew she was pregnant. “She turned herself in yesterday,” he said quietly. “She saw the news. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She just didn’t know what else to do.” I tried to piece it together — the bus, the note, the fragile face in the cold. “She left her on a bus,” I said. “She said you smiled at her when she got on,” he said. “She felt safe leaving Emma with you.” I tried to recall her — the blur of faces, people coming and going. Perhaps I smiled. Perhaps that single gesture made her believe some good remained in the world. “I smile at everyone,” I said. “Maybe that’s why she trusted you,” he replied. “Is she alright now?” “She’s in treatment. She’s getting help. She asked us not to bring Emma yet, but she’s fighting. Knowing Emma survived gave her a reason to start again.” He handed me an envelope. “I know you didn’t do this for money,” he said. “But please, accept this as gratitude.” When he left, I stood on the porch, shivering, the envelope trembling in my hand. Inside, a handwritten note: You didn’t just save Emma’s life. You saved my family’s last piece of hope. Beneath it, a check — enough to pay off debts, cover rent for a year, and finally breathe without fear. Months passed. Life resumed its rhythm, but differently. One morning, Henry called. “Emma’s thriving,” he said. “Healthy, smiling, full of life.” “I think about her every day,” I told him. “She’s strong,” he said. “Just like the woman who found her.” “Tell her she was loved that night,” I whispered. “Even if she never remembers it.” “I will,” he promised. “She’ll grow up knowing you, and what you did.” I still walk the length of my bus each night. I check every seat before clocking out. In the last row, sometimes I pause and listen — the hum of the engine, the creak of the floor, and, perhaps only in my mind, the faint sound of a baby’s breath. Not every miracle arrives in sunlight. Some come shivering, small, in a thin pink blanket. And sometimes, saving one life ends up saving your own.

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