In the midst of the screams and piercing cries that filled the air around him, a one-word plea — "medic" — cut through the noise and reached Rico Elmore.
Just seconds before, a would-be assassin's bullet had only grazed the intended target, but the gunman's shots had found others. One of them was in the bleachers a few rows behind Mr. Elmore, a technical sergeant for the Air National Guard.
Earlier, the Air National Guard member had stood on the rally's stage to give a warm-up speech to the crowd a few hours ahead of former President Donald Trump, and he was sitting in a VIP section right next to the platform when the shooting began, Sgt. Elmore told the Post-Gazette.
Hearing the plea for help, he jumped over the barricade separating him from the rest of the crowd and began telling people to move, to leave, that it wasn't safe.
He moved through the crowd until he reached the bleeding man, knelt at the left side of the man's head and pressed a towel he'd been given against the wound.
Military instructors had told him what to do in a situation like this. Buddy care, they call it. Still, this was new. In 15 years of service, he had deployed several times, including in support of Operation Enduring Freedom, the longest war in his country's history.
But he had never experienced a firefight until he attended an American political rally on a Saturday afternoon in Butler County.
"I had never witnessed an individual killed in front of me," Sgt. Elmore said.
The stranger whose head he held and pressed a towel against was Corey Comperatore, a father and firefighter who had put his body between his family and the barrel of a rifle when the shooting started.
Sgt. Elmore applied pressure to the wound just as he'd been taught, while a doctor performed CPR — but Sgt. Elmore had seen the wound. It was over. Still, they kept it up. It "seemed like forever," but was probably only a minute or so. When the medical team arrived, they covered Mr. Comperatore's head before taking him out of the crowd.
Little time had passed since the shooter fired his bullets, and a Secret Service sniper fired back, killing him. The stands were still crowded, and in the chaos, Sgt. Elmore did not know whether the danger had truly passed.
Again, he began telling people they had to get out of there. Some looked uncomprehendingly back at him, their eyes glazed. Others were screaming.
"There were older women, children, in shock from what they'd seen. They couldn't physically move. I had to put my hands on their shoulders," Sgt. Elmore said.
As he shepherded people out of the area, especially in the early, chaotic minutes, "There was a little voice in my head saying, 'What are you doing? You're not police, you're not EMS. This is not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to leave with everyone else.'
"I couldn't leave," Sgt. Elmore said. "I couldn't go."
For 20, perhaps 30 minutes, he steered people out of the bleachers, past the temporary barricades, away from the place that had suddenly become the focus of the nation's attention. And then he looked around, and the only people around him were Secret Service, police and sheriff's deputies.
"Are you OK," one of them asked.
He was fine, he said.
"You have blood everywhere on you."
That morning, on the day he was to meet the former president and get his picture taken with him, Sgt. Elmore, the vice chair of the Beaver County Republican party, had dressed in a crisp, white shirt. He looked down, and it was covered in someone else's blood.
But he was fine.
In the day that followed, he said, people he talked to called him a hero. He has told them about the man whose head he held in his hands.
"He's a hero. I jumped over a barricade. He jumped over his family," Sgt. Elmore said.
Asked what it was like to walk back into his house that night, he again steered the focus back to Mr. Comperatore and his family.
"They left their house as a family," he said. "They came back with one less."
___
(c)2024 the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
Visit the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette at www.post-gazette.com
Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.