A Sweet Recovery

It was the kind of lazy Saturday every kid dreams of.

The calendar read April 12. The midday sun hung high, shining down on Adriana Eassley as she played in the front yard of her great-grandfather’s home on Liberty Road.

Nearby, her great-uncle cut the grass, the steady hum of his riding mower filling the warm spring air.

Just days earlier, Adriana had celebrated her eighth birthday. Now, she buzzed with anticipation for the family dinner planned in her honor later that evening. Her grandmother, Donna Williams, affectionately calls her a “little pistol” — a nickname earned through boundless energy and fearless curiosity.

All seemed right with Adriana’s world.

Then, in a split second, everything changed.

“I thought it would be fun to walk behind the lawnmower,” the precocious, pint-sized dynamo said matter-of-factly.

“He was trying to go around a water meter,” Douglas County Fire Lt. Tony Daniel said. “He didn’t know she was behind him, so he backed up and knocked her down.”

The mower rolled over Adriana’s leg. The whirling steel blade did its worst, severing the front half of her right foot.

Chaos followed. A passing motorist stopped to help. Ripping off a military-style belt, he fashioned a makeshift tourniquet around Adriana’s leg.

“The doctors said he likely saved her life,” Williams said, gratitude filling her voice. “I asked him later if he had any training, and he said, ‘No.’ He just did what he thought would help.”

Within minutes, firefighters arrived — among them four-year veteran Ricky Powell. Hearing a child was injured sent a familiar wave of nerves through him. Calls involving children always have.

Then adrenaline took over.

“I saw little Adriana on the ground, and she’s screaming,” Powell recalled. “So I scooped her up and put her in the back of the ambulance.”

Inside, he applied a clinical tourniquet to stop the bleeding — and, just as importantly, began talking to her. What started as calm reassurance quickly turned into friendly banter.

Soon, Adriana was rattling off multiplication tables at lightning speed.

“That’s where we really connected,” Powell said with a smile. “We talked about school, her favorite colors, math.”

For the record, teal tops the colors list because, as Adriana explained, “it reminds me of the ocean.”

And reading has replaced math as her favorite subject — for now.

Back in the ambulance, a secret handshake sealed the bond.

“After that handshake, I thought of him as my best friend — like an older brother,” Adriana said.

They even discovered a shared love of mint chocolate chip ice cream — a detail that would later come back to haunt Powell.

Paramedics soon arrived, including Daniel, a 25-year EMT veteran.

“My priority was getting pain medication in her,” Daniel said.

As he wrapped the wound, Powell stayed close, continuing to talk to and distract Adriana.

“I could see it,” Daniel said. “They were really taking care of each other.”

The conversation felt natural, Powell said — not forced or clinical.

“She had these pink shoes. I told her I liked them,” he recalled. “‘They were pink,’ she said. ‘They’re all red now, so I’ve got to get a new pair.’”

Next came the helicopter ride to Arthur M. Blank Hospital — a moment that worried Daniel.

“She loved it,” he said. “She thought, ‘That was fun. Let’s do it again.’”

After several days and two operations to repair the remainder of her foot, Adriana returned home to begin a long recovery.

Taking it easy? She wasn’t having any of that. The next weekend, she returned to church in a wheelchair.

Within weeks, doctors fitted her with a prosthetic foot. Soon, she was running, jumping and turning cartwheels as if nothing had happened. She was cleared to swim — another passion.

“She was in the pool the very next day,” Williams said.

Adriana now has her sights set on dance lessons and picking up where she left off as a gymnast, swinging on the uneven bars and teetering on the balance beam.

As Adriana healed, Powell looked for ways to stay connected. On the first day of school, he surprised her with gifts and a dozen red roses.

“She saw me coming down the hallway and started running and skipping,” Powell said, smiling. “It was just beautiful.”

Recently, the two met for ice cream — where Powell made a rookie mistake.

As a show of solidarity, he promised to order whatever Adriana chose.

“I’m thinking she’s going to get mint chocolate chip,” he said. “Nope. She gets bubble gum ice cream with cotton candy sprinkles — the sweetest thing imaginable.”

Adriana later convinced Powell to help her chase a squirrel outside the ice cream shop.

Their friendship, born from tragedy, has grown quickly.

“He’s been amazing about checking in on her,” Williams said.

Powell recently received a gift card for his efforts that day.

“He didn’t go out and spend it on something he wanted,” Williams explained. “He asked her, ‘What are we going to spend this on?’ He wanted to get her something.”

The story is a reminder that something meaningful can emerge out of the toughest of times. Adriana endured a trauma no child should face — and gained a friend she deeply admires.

“He works hard, and he’s just a really great man that God blessed me with,” she said. She calls him “brave.”

Powell feels the same.

“I’m lucky I was on that call,” he said quietly. “Otherwise, I never would have met her. She’s an amazing girl.”

Judging by the sincerity in his voice, he’d do just about anything for his new friend.

Well — almost anything.

“That ice cream was too sweet for me,” he said, laughing. “I’m sticking with mint chocolate chip.”

Adriana, as always, had the last word.

“We have mint chocolate chip in our freezer,” she said, flashing the smile that rarely leaves her face.