The Manual on the Shelf

Margaret Chen kept her Red Cross first aid manual on the kitchen shelf between a cookbook and a potted basil plant. She had taken the certification course twice, scored perfectly both times, and could recite the steps of CPR the way some people recite the Lord's Prayer — fluently, automatically, without thinking.

On a Tuesday evening in March, at a crowded diner on Elm Street in downtown Asheville, a man three booths away clutched his chest and slumped forward. His wife screamed. Forks clattered against plates. Everyone froze.

Margaret knew exactly what to do. She had read the chapter on cardiac emergencies so many times the pages were soft at the corners. But knowing and doing are separated by a distance that can be measured in lives.

She stood up. She moved toward him. She placed her hands on his chest and began compressions. Paramedics later told the man's wife that those first ninety seconds made all the difference.