Say This One Thing and You Might Talk Someone Out of Suicide
17-year-old Desmond quickly realized the man sitting on the edge of the bridge was planning to end his life. So he struck up a conversation.
It was 9 p.m. on a dark, chilly night in November 2015. Desmond Powell, then 17, was walking home from a basketball game along an empty seven-lane road in Manchester, New Hampshire; he was looking forward to seeing his mom and grabbing dinner. As he approached the Granite Street Bridge, he noticed something peculiarโa person was sitting on the cement railing, legs dangling over the Merrimack River, about 100 feet below.
โAt first I thought he was just hanging out. But as I got closer, I heard him muttering. Then I clearly heard โIโm just gonna jump,โโ says Powell.
The stranger was slender, probably in his 20s, Powell thought. He wore dark clothing, and his red hair was topped by a baseball cap. โHey, buddy, what are you doing?โ Powell asked. He kept his distance, standing about six feet away so as not to spook the stranger.
โIโm gonna jump,โ the guy said.
โHis voice had pain in it, but I could tell he didnโt really want to do this. He just felt there wasnโt any other way,โ says Powell. (Suicidal thoughts often stem from depression. These are theย hiddenย signs thatย you have depression.)
Powell sought to engage him. โYou have any kids?โ
Without turning to look at Powell, the stranger pulled up a picture of his daughter on his cell phone. She looked to be two years old. โThink about how losing her dad at a young age will affect her,โ Powell suggested. Over the next ten minutes they talked, the stranger alternating between crying and staring vacantly at the churning black ยญwater below.
โMy heart was racing, but I stayed collected,โ says Powell. By doing so, he teased out the source of the strangerโs troubles.
โIโm having a rough time,โ the stranger said. โI canโt make any money, Iโm hungry, and Iโm addicted to heroin.โ
Powell, who by this point had inched closer to the stranger, assured him that he cared and that others would care, too, if he leaped into the river. Something about Powellโs calm, earnest entreaty caused the stranger to finally turn and look at him. ยญPowell, now about two feet from the stranger, held out his hand and left it there. โI felt I could grab him in time if he jumped, but I also wanted him to know that I was there for him,โ he says. To his surprise, the stranger took his hand and climbed down.
โLet me buy you something to eat,โ Powell said. โIโm Desmond.โ They walked a few minutes to a Dunkinโ Donuts. As they sat down to eat, someone whoโd overheard Powell talk about the strangerโs sad story suggested that the police be called. Afraid he might be arrested, the stranger bolted from the restaurant. โCome back!โ Powell yelled. But he was gone before Powell could stop him.
Powell scoured the area, looking for the stranger. While searching a parking lot, he heard โHey, Desmond.โ It was the stranger. โIโm sorry, man. I panicked.โ Then, after a pause: โCan you call the police so I can get help?โ
The two waited together on the street until the police arrived. During that time, the stranger turned the tables on Powell. โHe asked me about my life and goals,โ says Powell.
Fifteen minutes later, Powell watched the police drive the stranger away. He never did get his name, nor does he know what became of him. But Powell, who was honored by the city of Manchester for his caring response, will always remember the last words the stranger said to him. As he climbed into the patrol car, he turned to Powell. โThank you,โ he said. โYou really are a hero to me.โ
Don’t miss howย this crisis text hotline is preventing thousands of suicides. If someone in your life struggles with depression, use these psychologist-approved ways to show you care.