thedrifter
07-28-08, 09:14 AM
CAMP FOSTER, Okinawa (July 25, 2008) —After the ambulance carried the 72-year-old basketball referee away, the Foster Field House turned into a place of mourning. People cried, some shook their heads and others just sat in the stands blankly, trying to comprehend what had just happened, all oblivious to the fact that they had witnessed a small miracle.
On Jan. 20, in the opening game of the Martin Luther King basketball tournament, referee John Zivic got a second chance at life thanks to the quick thinking of Staff Sgt. Kwan Cochrane, a maintenance administrator with Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 262.
Zivic, a retired Air Force master sergeant, threw up the opening tip of the tournament and refereed the first half of the game without showing any signs that he was about to experience a major heart attack. Cochrane recalled the events of that day recently during an interview before being officially recognized for his actions with a Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal July 13 and a Certificate of Recognition for Extraordinary Personal Action from the American Red Cross July 15.
"We were on the court at the beginning of the second half," Cochrane said. "My team had the ball. Just as I looked back down the court I saw the referee fall and hit his head."
As a young man, Cochrane learned the basics of saving someone's life in a CPR class and continued his training as a Marine.
"I immediately ran over to assess the situation," Cochrane said. "He wasn't breathing and he was shaking, turning blue by every second. I stuck my finger in his mouth and pulled out his tongue and then put him on his side. I was talking to him, trying somehow to keep him alive. Nothing was working so I began to perform CPR and chest compressions until the ambulance got there."
The incident lasted no longer than five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime according to Cochrane.
"From the time I saw him drop until the time the ambulance arrived, everything was in slow motion," said Cochrane. "It was like a movie. People were standing around looking at the horrific scene. Even the noises slowed down. It was a twilight experience."
Once the ambulance arrived, Zivic was rushed to U.S. Naval Hospital Okinawa. He was stabilized and transferred to Urasoe Sogo Hospital when it was determined the hospital's team of heart specialists were best equipped to perform the complex surgery required from the massive heart attack.
Once Zivic went into surgery, all his friends and family could do was wait, hope and pray.
"My wife Toyo told me that at one point there were six doctors standing over me, unsure if I would survive the night," Zivic said.
As it seemed Zivic would pull through, Cochrane showed up to the hospital to see how he was doing and offer support to his family.
"I went to the emergency room and saw his friends, family and doctors, and they told me that what I did led to the preservation of Zivic's life," Cochrane said.
Those who witnessed the ordeal were amazed to find out that Zivic had no recollection of any of the events of the fateful day.
"I woke up that day, got dressed, went to the game, threw up the opening tip and refereed the first half on the game before I collapsed," Zivic said. "I don't remember anything from that day at all. It's like my body knew what was coming and I was on auto pilot."
Aside from his CPR training, Cochrane credits his time in Iraq for his immediate response.
"Once you have been in that environment, you look at life a totally different way because there is no hesitation and you have to think on your feet."
For the three months following the heart attack, Zivic was not able to move about on his own and lost 40 pounds. He was fed intravenously for 60 days and was unsure if he would ever walk again.
"The doctors weren't sure whether or not I would regain full mobility in my legs," Zivic said. "Nowadays I walk about two miles each night with my wife and my dog."
Cochrane said from the moment he began CPR he had no doubt Zivic would pull through.
"For him to do what he does everyday at his age, I knew he had the will to live," Cochrane said. "He might not remember it, but I know that he was fighting like hell to live."
Cochrane said he hardly knew Zivic, so to allow Zivic time with his family after the heart attack he did not initiate much contact.
"I wanted to give him space, but I sent messages to his friends to check on him every once and a while," Cochrane said.
But after meeting July 14 for the first time since the ordeal, Cochrane and Zivic say they are now life-long friends.
The life-saving event renewed Cochrane's awareness of the importance of knowing CPR, and he attended another class to further enhance his life-saving skills.
"I highly recommend that everyone take CPR classes," Cochrane said. "They may need to someday save someone's life when they least expect it."
Zivic said he believes everything that occurred that day happened for a reason.
"If I would have stayed home that night, I probably would have died," Zivic said. "I suppose it just wasn't my time."
A slight glossiness came over Zivic's eyes as he continued.
"There's no way to repay somebody for saving your life," Zivic said. "I am forever indebted to him. I'm here because of professionalism. I think it's a beautiful thing. My family is very thankful. There isn't really anything I could even begin to say to describe how thankful I am."
Zivic said Cochrane is a great example of a Marine and person that should be looked up to.
"This is a good lesson for all of our Marines walking around everyday," Zivic said. "Staff sergeant showed everyone how important it is to be on your feet."
Cochrane remains predictably humble about his actions and credits God for the outcome.
"I just want to thank the Lord for giving me the ability to react the way I did in that situation," Cochrane said.
Cochrane said saving a man's life has opened his eyes to what really is important.
"Life is precious," he said. "Try to be prepared for the unexpected and always trust in your capabilities. You never know when you will be in a situation where you need to react."
Zivic is currently continuing physical therapy and plans on remaining active, though he does not have any plans to return to the court.
"I just want to continue to work," he said. "But no more basketball for me. After 40 years with the sport, I can let it go."
On Jan. 20, in the opening game of the Martin Luther King basketball tournament, referee John Zivic got a second chance at life thanks to the quick thinking of Staff Sgt. Kwan Cochrane, a maintenance administrator with Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 262.
Zivic, a retired Air Force master sergeant, threw up the opening tip of the tournament and refereed the first half of the game without showing any signs that he was about to experience a major heart attack. Cochrane recalled the events of that day recently during an interview before being officially recognized for his actions with a Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal July 13 and a Certificate of Recognition for Extraordinary Personal Action from the American Red Cross July 15.
"We were on the court at the beginning of the second half," Cochrane said. "My team had the ball. Just as I looked back down the court I saw the referee fall and hit his head."
As a young man, Cochrane learned the basics of saving someone's life in a CPR class and continued his training as a Marine.
"I immediately ran over to assess the situation," Cochrane said. "He wasn't breathing and he was shaking, turning blue by every second. I stuck my finger in his mouth and pulled out his tongue and then put him on his side. I was talking to him, trying somehow to keep him alive. Nothing was working so I began to perform CPR and chest compressions until the ambulance got there."
The incident lasted no longer than five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime according to Cochrane.
"From the time I saw him drop until the time the ambulance arrived, everything was in slow motion," said Cochrane. "It was like a movie. People were standing around looking at the horrific scene. Even the noises slowed down. It was a twilight experience."
Once the ambulance arrived, Zivic was rushed to U.S. Naval Hospital Okinawa. He was stabilized and transferred to Urasoe Sogo Hospital when it was determined the hospital's team of heart specialists were best equipped to perform the complex surgery required from the massive heart attack.
Once Zivic went into surgery, all his friends and family could do was wait, hope and pray.
"My wife Toyo told me that at one point there were six doctors standing over me, unsure if I would survive the night," Zivic said.
As it seemed Zivic would pull through, Cochrane showed up to the hospital to see how he was doing and offer support to his family.
"I went to the emergency room and saw his friends, family and doctors, and they told me that what I did led to the preservation of Zivic's life," Cochrane said.
Those who witnessed the ordeal were amazed to find out that Zivic had no recollection of any of the events of the fateful day.
"I woke up that day, got dressed, went to the game, threw up the opening tip and refereed the first half on the game before I collapsed," Zivic said. "I don't remember anything from that day at all. It's like my body knew what was coming and I was on auto pilot."
Aside from his CPR training, Cochrane credits his time in Iraq for his immediate response.
"Once you have been in that environment, you look at life a totally different way because there is no hesitation and you have to think on your feet."
For the three months following the heart attack, Zivic was not able to move about on his own and lost 40 pounds. He was fed intravenously for 60 days and was unsure if he would ever walk again.
"The doctors weren't sure whether or not I would regain full mobility in my legs," Zivic said. "Nowadays I walk about two miles each night with my wife and my dog."
Cochrane said from the moment he began CPR he had no doubt Zivic would pull through.
"For him to do what he does everyday at his age, I knew he had the will to live," Cochrane said. "He might not remember it, but I know that he was fighting like hell to live."
Cochrane said he hardly knew Zivic, so to allow Zivic time with his family after the heart attack he did not initiate much contact.
"I wanted to give him space, but I sent messages to his friends to check on him every once and a while," Cochrane said.
But after meeting July 14 for the first time since the ordeal, Cochrane and Zivic say they are now life-long friends.
The life-saving event renewed Cochrane's awareness of the importance of knowing CPR, and he attended another class to further enhance his life-saving skills.
"I highly recommend that everyone take CPR classes," Cochrane said. "They may need to someday save someone's life when they least expect it."
Zivic said he believes everything that occurred that day happened for a reason.
"If I would have stayed home that night, I probably would have died," Zivic said. "I suppose it just wasn't my time."
A slight glossiness came over Zivic's eyes as he continued.
"There's no way to repay somebody for saving your life," Zivic said. "I am forever indebted to him. I'm here because of professionalism. I think it's a beautiful thing. My family is very thankful. There isn't really anything I could even begin to say to describe how thankful I am."
Zivic said Cochrane is a great example of a Marine and person that should be looked up to.
"This is a good lesson for all of our Marines walking around everyday," Zivic said. "Staff sergeant showed everyone how important it is to be on your feet."
Cochrane remains predictably humble about his actions and credits God for the outcome.
"I just want to thank the Lord for giving me the ability to react the way I did in that situation," Cochrane said.
Cochrane said saving a man's life has opened his eyes to what really is important.
"Life is precious," he said. "Try to be prepared for the unexpected and always trust in your capabilities. You never know when you will be in a situation where you need to react."
Zivic is currently continuing physical therapy and plans on remaining active, though he does not have any plans to return to the court.
"I just want to continue to work," he said. "But no more basketball for me. After 40 years with the sport, I can let it go."